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MY LAGAN LOVE

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 lenanshee,

She hath 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 her eye to sleep,

I steal unto her shieling lorn

And thro' the dooring peep;

There on the cricket's singing stone

She stirs the bog-wood fire,

And hums in sad, sweet undertone

The song of heart's desire.

Her welcome like her love for me

Is from the heart within.

Her warm kiss is felicity

That knows no taint or sin.

When she was only fairy small,

Her gentle mother died.

But true love keeps her memory warm

By Lagan's silver side.