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.