There on the cricket's singing stone
She hath my heart in thrall
With love is Lord of all
I steal unto her shilling low
No life have I, no liberty
Is from her heart within
And like a love sick, lenanshee
When twilight gleam is in her eyes
And hums in soft, sweet undertones
The song of heart's desire
Her welcome like her love for me
The night is on her hair
And through her dooreen peep
And sometimes when the beetles horn
She stirs the bog wood fire
Her warm kiss is felicity
Hath lulled the eve to sleep
