The Gartan mother's lullaby

Sleep, o babe, for the red bee hums

The silent twilight's fall.

Eeval from the Grey Rock comes

To wrap the world in thrall.

A lyan van o, my child my joy,

My love and heart's desire.

The crickets sing you 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 lyan van o, the paly moon

Hath brimmed her cup in dew

And weeps to hear the sad sleeptune

I sing, o love to you.