Where Lagan stream sings lullaby, there blooms a lily fair
The twilight gleam is in her eye, the night is on her hair
And like a lovesick lenanshee, she hath my heart in thrall
Nor life I own, nor liberty, for love is lord of all

Her father sails a running-barge 'twixt Leamh-beag and The Druim
And on the lonely river-marge she clears his hearth for him
When she was only fairy-high her gentle mother died
But dew-love keeps her memory green on the Lagan-side

And oft-times when the beetle's horn hath lulled the eve to sleep
I steal into her shieling lorn and through the dooring peep
There on the crickets' singing-stone she spares the bogwood fire
And hums in sad, sweet undertone the song of heart's desire

Her welcome, like her love for me, is from her heart within
Her warm kiss is felicity that knows no taint of sin
And when I stir my foot to go, 'tis leaving love and light
To feel the wind of longing blow from out the dark of night
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