My Lagan Love (Live At The BBC DUSTY 19.09.67) - Dusty Springfield

Where Lagan stream sings lullaby

There grows a young man fair

The twilight gleam is in his eye

The night is on his hair

And like a lovesick lenan he

He hath my heart in thrall

No life I owe no liberty

His love is lord of all

And often when the beetles' horn

Hath lulled the eve to sleep

I steal unto his shieling lorn

And thro' the dooring peep

There on the cricket's singing stone

He spears the bird in fire

And hums in sad sweet undertone

The song of his desire