THE GARTAN MOTHER'S LULLABY
Sleep O babe, for the red bee hums the silent twilight's fall,
Aoibheall from the grey rock comes, to wrap the world in thrall.
A leanbhan O, my child, my joy, my love and my heart's desire,
Dusk is drawn and the Green Man's thorn is wreathed in rings of fog,
A leanbhan O, the paly moon hath brimmed her cusp in dew,
And weeps to hear the sad sleep-tune, I sing O love to you.
Faintly sweet doth the chapel bell, ring o'er the valley dim,
Tearmann's peasant voices swell, in fragrant evening hymn.
A leanbhan O, the low bell rings, my little lamb to rest,
And angel- dreams till morning sings, its music in your breast.
Harp Plays Solo