Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning,|
Close by the window young Eileen is spinning.
Bent o'er the fire her blind grandmother sitting,
Is crooning and moaning and drowsily knitting.
Merrily cheerily noiselessly whirring,
Swings the wheel spins the wheel while the foot's stirring.
Sprightly and lightly and merrily ringing,
Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.
Eileen, a chara, I hear someone tapping.
'Tis the ivy dear mother against the glass flapping.
Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing.
'Tis the sound mother dear of the autumn winds dying.
What's the noise that I hear at the window I wonder?
'Tis the little birds chirping on holly bush yonder
What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on?
And singing all wrong the old song of the "Coolin"?
There's a form at the casement, the form of her true love,
And he whispers with face bent, I'm waiting for you love.
Get up from the stool, through the lattice step lightly,
And we'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly.
The maid shakes her head, on her lips lays her fingers,
Steps up from the stool, longs to go and yet lingers,
A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother,
Puts her foot on the stool spins the wheel with the other.
Lazily, easily, now swings the wheel round
Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound
Noiseless and light to the lattice above her
The maid steps, then leaps to the arms of her lover.
Slower and slower and slower the wheel swings
Lower and lower and lower the reel rings
Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving
Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.
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