[C]Sleep O [Em]babe, for the [Am]red bee [Emhums the[F] silent [C]twilight's fall Aoibheall [G]from the [Am]grey rock [G]comes, to [F]wrap the [Em]world in [F]thral[G]l A[C] leanbhan O, my [Am]child, my [G]joy, my [F]love my [Em]heart's de[F]sire[G] The [F]crickets [C]sing you [Dm]lulla[Am]bys Be[Dm]side the [F]dying [C]fire Dusk is drawn and the Green Man's thorn is wreathed in rings of fog Siabhra 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.
Faintly sweet doth the chapel bell, ring o'er the valley dim Tearmann's peasant voices swell, in fragrant evening hymn A leanbhan O, the low bell rings, my little lamb to rest And angel-dreams till morning sings, its music in your breast.