Phil Coulter
The Gartan Mother’s Lullaby
Sleep O babe, for the red bee hums
The silent twilight falls
Aoibheal from the grey rock comes
To wrap the world in thrall
A leanbhan O, my child, my joy
My own, my heart's desire
The crickets sing you lullaby
Beside the dying fire
Dusk is drawn and the green man's horn
Is wreathed in rings of fog
Siabhra sails his boat till morn
Across the starry bog
A leanbhan O the paly moon
Has ringed her cusp in dew
And weeps to hear the sad sweet tune
I sing O love to you