Where Lagan stream sing lullaby
There blows a lily fair The twilight gleam is in his eyes 
The night is on his hair And like a love-sick lennan-shee 
he has my heart in thrall Nor life have 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 his shieling lorn
And [bad word] the doorway keep.
There on the cricket's singing stone,
he makes the bogwood fire,
And sings in sweet undertone
The song of heart's desire