A traditional Irish tune. The rhythm of the words actually invokes the spin of the wheel, as the young girl tries to convince her grandmother there are no sounds from outside the window but those made by nature. There’s a lovely version of the song by Catherine McKinnon with the Jubilee Singers here.
THE SPINNING WHEEL
Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning,
Close by the window young Eileen is spinning.
Bent o’er the fire, her blind grandmother sitting,
Crooning and moaning and drowsily knitting.
Merrily, cheerily, noiselessly whirring,
Spins the wheel, rings the wheel while the foot’s stirring.
Sprightly and lightly and merrily ringing
Sounds the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.
“Eileen, a chara, I hear someone tapping.”
“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 Coolin?”
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 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.
Slower and slower and slower the wheel turns,
Lower and lower and lower the reel rings,
Ere the reel and the wheel stop their spinning and moving,
Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.