Context: This song was written in the mid-1800s by lawyer and poet, John Francis Waller.
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 Spritely 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" "Eily, I surely hear somebody sighing" "'Tis the sound mother dear of the autumn winds dying." Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring Swings the wheel, spins the wheel while the foot's stirring Spritely and lightly and merrily ringing Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. "What's the noise that I hear at the window I wonder" "'Tis the little birds chirping, the holly-bush under" "What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on And singing all wrong the old song of 'The Coolin'? " Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring Swings the wheel, spins the wheel while the foot's stirring Spritely and lightly and merrily ringing Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. 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 on the stool, through the lattice step lightly And we'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly." Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring Swings the wheel, spins the wheel while the foot's stirring Spritely and lightly and merrily ringing Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. 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 one foot on the stool, spins the wheel with the other. Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring Swings the wheel, spins the wheel while the foot's stirring Spritely and lightly and merrily ringing Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. Lazily, easily, swings now 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. Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring Swings the wheel, spins the wheel while the foot's stirring Spritely and lightly and merrily ringing Trills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. Slower and slower and slower the wheel rings Lower and lower and lower the reel rings E're the reel and the wheel stopped their ringing and moving Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.
An Tuirnín Lín
Unique Word Count: 139
Loinnir ón ngealach ag cur leis an niamh, Taobh leis an bhfuinneog tá Eibhlín ag sníomh; Mamó go suanmhar ag cniotáil cois tine, Cromtha ’gus dall is ag crónán le binneas. “Eibhlín, a stóirín, tá cnag ar an bhfuinneog.” “Sé ’n t-eidhneán, a Mhamó, á shéideadh mar dhuilleog.” “Eibhlín, ar m’anamsa, cloisimse osna.’ “Siod é siosarnach gaoithe, a Mhamó, sa bhrosna.” Callánach croíúil ceolmhar gan chliseadh Castar an tuirne le fuinneamh na coise; Álainn is aigeanta, aerach is aoibhinn – An bhruinneall ag canadh go caoin lena faí bhinn. “Cén trup sin a chloisimse lasmuigh den fhuinneog?” “Tá, éanlaith, a Mhamó, ag canadh i loinneog.” “Cén chúis ’tá led bhogadh ’s led chorraí id’ stóilín ’S led’ rá bunoscionn an tseanamhráin, An Chúilfhionn?” Tá ’n leannán cois comhla is labhrann go béalbhinn: “Cogar, a chailín, is téana, a Eibhlín! Éirigh den stóilín ’s amach tríd an gcrannaíl – Amach linn sa gharrán ag siúl faoi na crannaibh.” Éiríonn an ainnir, a méar lena beoilín, Éiríonn den stóilín, ach fanann go fóillín; Amharcann faoi rún ar an tseanmháthair mhuirneach, Cuireann cos leis an stóilín is cos leis an tuirne. Go réidh is go liosta, go mall is go suaimhneach Casann an tuirne go héasca ’s go luaimneach; Go ciúin is go héadrom ’sea léimeann an bhruinneall – An leannán ag feitheamh, gan corraí, ar tinneall.
-Diarmaid Ó Tuama