The Spinning Wheel – Irish Song Lyrics

“The Spinning Wheel” is a beloved traditional Irish folk song written by John Francis Waller, an Irish poet from County Limerick, who published it under the pseudonym “Jonathan Freke Slingsby” in 1865. The song portrays a tender domestic scene in a traditional Irish cottage, featuring young Eileen spinning wool while her blind grandmother knits by the fire. The narrative unfolds as the grandmother pretends to fall asleep, allowing Eileen to meet with her sweetheart.

The song gained significant popularity during the Irish cultural revival of the late 19th and early 20th centuries and became a staple in collections of Irish folk music. Its enduring appeal owes much to Delia Murphy’s influential recording in the 1940s, which helped introduce the song to international audiences. “The Spinning Wheel” captures the essence of traditional Irish domestic life, intergenerational relationships, and romantic customs of rural Ireland, preserving a glimpse into historical Irish culture through its lyrical storytelling.

Lyrics

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.

Chorus
Merrily cheerily noiselessly whirring
Spins the wheel, rings the wheel while the foot’s stirring
Sprightly 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
Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing
‘Tis the sound mother dear of the autumn winds dying.

(Chorus)

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.

(Chorus)

Slower… and slower… and slower the wheel swings
Lower… and lower… and lower the reel rings
Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving
Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving