| Sleep, oh babe, for the red bee hums
|
| The silent twilight’s fall
|
| Aoibheall from the gray rock comes
|
| To wrap the world in thrall
|
| A leanbhín ó, my child, my joy
|
| My love and heart’s desire
|
| The crickets sing you lullaby
|
| Beside the dying fire
|
| Dusk is drawn and the Green Man’s thorn
|
| Is wreathed in rings of fog
|
| Siabhra sails his boat 'til morn
|
| Upon the starry bog
|
| A leanbhín ó, the paly moon
|
| Hath brimmed her cusp in dew
|
| And weeps to hear the sad sleep-tune
|
| I sing, my love, to you
|
| Sleep, oh babe, for the red bee hums
|
| The silent twilight’s fall
|
| Aoibheall from the gray rock comes
|
| To wrap the world in thrall
|
| A leanbhín ó, my child, my joy
|
| My love and heart’s desire
|
| The crickets sing you lullaby
|
| Beside the dying fire |