O hush thee my baby, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright;
The fields and the folds from the window we see,
They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee
CHO: O ho roe ri rerry, cadoo-goo-lo
      O ho roe ri rerry, cadoo-goo-lo.

O fear not the bugle tho loudly it blows,
It calls but the warder to guard thy repose.
His bow would be bended, his blade would be red
E'er the step of a foeman draw nigh to thy bed

O hush thee my wee one- the time soon will come
When thy slumber be broken by trumpet and drum.
O hush now and slumber, take rest whilst thou may
For strife comes with manhood, as waking with day.