Lullay, lullay, Thou lytill Child, Sleep and be well still; The King of bliss Thy father is, As it was his will. The other night I saw a sight, A mayd a cradle keep: "Lullay," she sung, and said among, "Lie still, my Child, and sleep." "How should I sleep? I may not for weep, So sore am I begone: Sleep I would; I may not for cold, And clothes have I none. "For Adam's guilt mankind is spilt And that me rueth sore; For Adam and Eve here shall I live Thirty winter and more." |