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Words by Walter Scott
Published 1867
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O hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
O fear not the bugle though loudly it blows; It calls but the warders that guard thy repose, That guard thy repose. Their bows would be bended their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
O hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum, By trumpet and drum. Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. O hush thee, my babie, O hush thee, my babie, O hush thee, my babie, O hush thee, my babie, O hush thee, O hush thee, my babie.
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Page Created 23 March 2004