Poem


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||  ||  || hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.
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O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman drew near to thy bed. O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.

O hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.

[|Lullaby of an Infant]
 * Sir Walter Scott**

This poem relates to romanticism because the baby is a part of the circle of life. The babies imagination is all it knows. The baby is full of innocence. The mother is probably worried and using her imagination to see what will happen in the future.