Sweet babe! a golden cradle holds thee,

And soft the snow-white fleece enfolds thee;

In airy bower I'll watch thy sleeping,

Where branchy trees to the breeze are sweeping.

Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!

When mothers languish broken-hearted,

When young wives are from husbands parted,

Ah! little think the keeners lonely,

They weep some time-worn fairy only.

Shuheen sho, lulo lo!

Within our magic halls of brightness,

Trips many a foot of snowy whiteness;

Stolen maidens, queens of fairy—

And kings and chiefs a sluagh-shee airy,

Shuheen sho, lulo lo!

Rest thee, babe! I love thee dearly,

And as thy mortal mother nearly;

Ours is the swiftest steed and proudest,

That moves where the tramp of the host is loudest.

Shuheen sho, lulo lo!