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THE GARTAN MOTHER`S LULLABY (Trad. arr. Coulter) The Dubliners Sleep, O babe, for the red bee hums the silent twilight fall. Eaval from the Grey Rock comes to wrap the world in thrall. A leanbhan o, my child, my joy, my love and heart`s desire The crickets sing you a lullaby beside the dying fire. Dusk is drawn and the Green Man`s thorn is wreathed in rings of fog. Sheevra sails his boat till morn upon the starry bog. 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.

    


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