Long Description: The Fate of the Children of Lir, European Music, Scottish Music, television music, music for tv and stock music
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Fate of The Children of Lir
Words and music by Gordon McLeod
Copyright 2000, 2002
Soft float the mists from lake to shore,
Sad is the tale told o’er and o’er,
Children of Lir your woeful fate,
To swim as swans on mirror lake.
Beauty may seem a worthy prize,
But often wears a thin disguise,
A jealous heart, an evil fear,
Transformed the children of good King Lir
Fianuallu, Aod, Fiachra, Conn,
Nine hundred years your fate as swans,
No voice or harp can music bring,
To match the plaintive song you sing.
A widowed king’s desire led,
Him to an envious beauty wed.
Her grace a darkened heart concealed,
Her curse did her true self reveal.
His precious children left in her care,
Did to the countryside repair,
Down to the lake for sport and game,
Her curse she placed, swans they became.
And Oh forlornly did they cry,
Across the lake, circling the skies,
Their father hearing of their fate,
Rushed madly, sadly to the lake.
Oh good King Lir, a tragic pain,
Within your heart now must remain,
No charm have you to end the spell,
No words your depth of grief can tell.
Repeat Chorus twice