Dream Angus listen online
Dream Angus is a sort of Scottish Sandman who helps children off to sleep
Can you not hush your weeping?
All the birds are sleeping
Birdies are nesting, nestling together
Dream Angus is hurtling o're the heather.
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell!
Angus is here with dreams to sell.
Hush, my dear baby, and sleep without fear
Dream Angus has brought you a dream, my dear.
List' to the curlew crying, oh
Faintly the echoes dying, oh
Even the birdies and beasties are sleeping,
But my bonnie bairn lies weeping, weeping.
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell
Angus is here with dreams to sell
Hush my dear baby and sleep without fear
Dream Angus has brought you a dream, my dear
Soon the lavrock sings his song
Welcoming the coming dawn
Lambies hurry down together
With the ewes all in the heather
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell
Angus is here with dreams to selll
Hush my dear baby, sleep without fear
Dream Angus has brought you a dream, my dear
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell
Angus is here with dreams to sell
Hush my dear baby and sleep without fear
Dream Angus has brought you a dream, my dear
Listen other Lullabies from England, Scotland and Wales
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
My Bonnie lies over the sea
My Bonnie lies over the ocean
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me
Bring back, bring back
Bring back my Bonnie to me, to me
Bring back, bring back
Bring back my Bonnie to me
Last night as I lay on my pillow
Last night as I lay on my bed
Last night as I lay on my pillow
I dreamt that my Bonnie was dead
Oh blow the winds o’er the ocean
And blow the winds o’er the sea
Oh blow the winds o’er the ocean
And bring back my Bonnie to me
The winds have blown over the ocean
The winds have blown over the sea
The winds have blown over the ocean
And brought back my Bonnie to me
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
But where is the boy, who looks after the sheep?
He's under a haystack, he's fast asleep.
Will you wake him? No, not I,
For if I do, he's sure to cry.
Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare,
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.