| When the moon-cradle's rocking and rocking
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| Where a cloud and a cloud go by Silently rocking and rocking
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| The moon-cradle out in the sky.
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| Then comes the lad with the hazel
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| And the folding star’s in the rack
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| 'Night's a good herd' to the cattle,
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| He sings, 'She brings all things back.'
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| But the bond woman down by the boorie
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| Sings with a heart grown wild
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| How a hundred rivers are flowing
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| Between herself and her child.
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| 'The geese, even they trudge homeward
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| That have their wings and the waste,
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| Let your thoughts be on Night the Herder,
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| And be quiet for a space.'
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| The moon-cradle's rocking and rocking,
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| Where a cloud and a cloud go by,
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| Silent rocking and rocking
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| The moon-cradle out in the sky.
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| The snipe they are crying and crying
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| Liadine, liadine, liadine
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| Where no track’s on the bog they are flying:
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| A lonely dream will be mine! |