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Lullay my liking, my dear Son, my Sweeting; Lullay my dear Heart, mine own dear Darling. I saw a fair maiden sitten and sing: She lulled a little child, A sweete Lording Lullay my liking . . . That Eternal Lord is He That made alle thing; Of alle Lordes He is Lord, Of every King He's King. Lullay my liking . . . |
There was mickle melody At that childes birth: Though the songsters were heavenly They made mickle mirth. Lullay my liking . . . Angels bright they sang that night And saiden to that Child "Blessed be Thou and so be she That is so meek and mild." Lullay my liking . . . Pray we now to that child, As to His Mother dear, God grant them all His blessing That now maken cheer. Lullay my liking . . . |
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