| Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
|
| There blows a lily fair
|
| The twilight gleam is in her eye
|
| The night is on her hair
|
| And like a love-sick lennan-shee
|
| She has my heart in thrall
|
| Nor life I owe nor liberty
|
| For love is lord of all
|
| And often when the beetle’s horn
|
| Hath lulled the eve to sleep
|
| I steal unto her shieling lorn
|
| And thru the dooring peep
|
| There on the cricket’s singing stone
|
| She spares the bogwood fire
|
| And hums in sad sweet undertone
|
| The songs of heart’s desire
|
| Nor life I owe nor liberty
|
| For love is lord of all
|
| For love is lord of all |