My Lagan Love Lyrics - Van Morrison
Review The Song (2)
Traditional, arranged by Van Morrison/Paddy Moloney
Where Lagan streams sing lullabies
There blows a lily fair.
The twilight gleam is in her eye,
The night is on her hair.
And like a lovesick lenashee
She hath my heart in thrall.
No life have I, no liberty,
For love is Lord of all.
And often when the beetles horn
Has lulled the eve to sleep,
I'll steal into her sheiling lorn
And through the doorway creep.
There on the cricket's singing stone,
She makes the bogwood fire
And sings in sweet and undertone,
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Same urban soul to rural setting | Reviewer: email@example.com | 5/19/12
Van Morrison always sings about the soul of the thing. Madam George represents the urban soul of the shipyard city of Belfast and My Lagan Love represents the old rustic soul of the rural outers of Belfast.
Another comparison easily found is that in plaintiveness the lyrics of Madam George sound curiously similar to My Lagan Love.
The environment of My Lagan Love in fact shared by Ireland and Scotland and which survived in Scotland right up to the 1950s was that of transhumance.
Transhumance was the seasonal cycle of shifting grazing cattle from the river valleys and lowlands to the highlands in summer and from the highlands to the river valleys and lowlands in winter. Women tended to watching the grazing creatures.
The shieling that Van M. mentions in verse 2 is a temporary rockpile hut overgrown with a grass roof and straw thatch in line with the semi-nomadic lifestyle as it were.
The fire in the shieling was a small square pit in the the floor by the wall and fuelled with turf or peat. The doorway was no more than a gap sin the rock pile wall.
In summer the shieling women and any lads would get together up the mountain for a song and dance entertainment evening called a hooley or booley.
Van sounds like he might have met the woman with the twilight gleam in her eye and the night on her hair at a hooley or booley.
I suppose this is all more of a background than a critical review.
the heart's song | Reviewer: peter d pipinis | 10/10/05
Van Morrison's singing the wordless song of the heart at the end has to be heard to be believed. A religious experience.
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