hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, <br />Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; <br />The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, <br />They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo. <br /> <br />O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, <br />It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; <br />Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, <br />Ere the step of a foeman drew near to thy bed. <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo. <br /> <br />O hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come <br />When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; <br />Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, <br />For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, <br />O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lullaby-of-an-infant-chief/
