Oh, hush thee, my baby,
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 baby, to thee.
Oh, hush thee, my baby,

Thy sire was a knight,
Oh, hush thee, my baby,
So bonnie, so bright.

Oh, fear not the bugle,
Tho' 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
Draws near to thy bed.
Oh, hush thee, my baby,

Thy sire was a knight,
Oh, hush thee, my baby,
So bonnie, so bright.