My Lagan Love (Live)歌词
歌曲名:My Lagan Love (Live) 歌手:Celtic Woman 所属专辑:《Celtic Woman: Bonus Tracks》
介绍:《My Lagan Love (Live)》是由Celtic Woman演唱的歌曲,该歌曲收录在Celtic Woman的《Celtic Woman: Bonus Tracks》专辑之中,如果您觉得该歌曲好听的话,就把这首歌分享给您的朋友一起支持Celtic Woman的My Lagan Love (Live)的吧!
My Lagan Love (Live)歌词
作曲 : Traditional
Charlotte Church - My Lagan Love
Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
There blows a lily fair:
The twilight gleam is in her eye,
The night is on her hair.
And, like a love-sick lenanshee,
She hath my heart to thrall:
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
For love is lord of all
And often when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thro' the dooring peep.
There on the cricket's singing stone
She spares the bog wood fire.
And hums in sad sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.
Charlotte Church - My Lagan Love
Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
There blows a lily fair:
The twilight gleam is in her eye,
The night is on her hair.
And, like a love-sick lenanshee,
She hath my heart to thrall:
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
For love is lord of all
And often when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thro' the dooring peep.
There on the cricket's singing stone
She spares the bog wood fire.
And hums in sad sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.
My Lagan Love (Live)LRC歌词
作曲 : Traditional
Charlotte Church - My Lagan Love
Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
There blows a lily fair:
The twilight gleam is in her eye,
The night is on her hair.
And, like a love-sick lenanshee,
She hath my heart to thrall:
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
For love is lord of all
And often when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thro' the dooring peep.
There on the cricket's singing stone
She spares the bog wood fire.
And hums in sad sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.
Charlotte Church - My Lagan Love
Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
There blows a lily fair:
The twilight gleam is in her eye,
The night is on her hair.
And, like a love-sick lenanshee,
She hath my heart to thrall:
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
For love is lord of all
And often when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thro' the dooring peep.
There on the cricket's singing stone
She spares the bog wood fire.
And hums in sad sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.
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