The October winds lament around,the castle of Dromore
Yet peace is in her lofty halls, my loving treasure store
Though autumn leaves may droop and die, a bud of spring are you
Sing you hushabye loo, low loo, low lan
Sing hushabye loo, low lan
Bring no ill wind to him nor us, my helpless babe and me
Dread spirits all of black water, Clan Owen's wild banshee
And Holy Mary pitying us to Heaven for grace doth sue
Sing you hushabye loo, low loo, low lan
Sing hushabye loo, low lan
Take time to thrive, my ray of hope, in the garden of Dromore
Take heed, young eaglet, till thy wings are feathered fit to soar
A little rest and then the world is full of work to do
Sing you hushabye loo, low loo, low lan
Sing hushabye loo, low lan
