Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning
Close by the
window young Eileen is spinning
Bent o'er the fire her blind grandmother
Crooning and moaning and drowsily knitting.
cheerily noiselessly whirring
Spins the wheel, rings the wheel while the
Sprightly and lightly and merrily ringing
sweet voice of the young maiden singing.
Eileen, a chara, I hear
'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 I hear at the window I wonder?
'Tis the little birds chirping, the holly-bush under
What makes you
shoving and moving your stool on
And singing all wrong the old song of the
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
Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound
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.