MADONNA AND CHILD.

This endris night *

I saw a sight,

A star as bright as day;

And ever among

A maiden sung,

Lullay, by by, lullay.

This lovely lady sat and sang, and to her child she said,

"My son, my brother, my father dear, why liest thou thus in hayd?† My sweet bird,

Thus it is betide

Though thou be king veray;

But, nevertheless,

I will not cease

To sing, by by, lullay."

The child then spake; in his talking he to his mother said,

"I bekid I am king, in crib though I be laid;

* Endris night: last night.

Nevertheless.

† Hay.

For angels bright

Down to me light,

Thou knowest it is no nay,

And of that sight

Thou mayest be light

To sing, by by, lullay."

"Now, sweet Son, since thou art king, why art thou laid in stall?

Why not thou ordain thy bedding in some great kingès hall?

Methinketh it is right
That king or knight

Should be in good array;

And them among

It were no wrong

To sing, by by, lullay."

"Mary, mother, I am thy child, though I be laid

in stall,

Lords and dukes shall worship me and so shall kingès all.

Ye shall well see

That kingès three

Shall come on the twelfth day;

For this behest

Give me thy breast

And sing, by by, lullay."

"Now tell me, sweet Son, I thee pray, thou art

my love and dear,

How should I keep thee to thy pay * and make thee glad of cheer? For all thy will

I would fulfil

Thou weet'st full well in fay,

And for all this

I will thee kiss,

And sing, by by, lullay."

"My dear mother, when time it be, take thou me up aloft,

And set me upon thy knee and handle me full soft.

And in thy arm

Thou wilt me warm,

And keep me night and day;

If I weep

And may not sleep

Thou sing, by by, lullay."

"Now, sweet Son, since it is so, all things are at thy will,

I pray thee grant to me a boon if it be right and skill,

* Peace.

That child or man,
That will or can,

Be merry upon my day; To bliss them bring,

And I shall sing,

Lullay, by by, lullay."

A ROCKING HYMN.

Sweet baby, sleep; what ails my dear? What ails my darling thus to cry? Be still, my child, and lend thine ear To hear me sing thy lullaby.

My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;

Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear?
What things to thee can mischief do?
Thy God is now thy Father dear;
His holy Spouse thy Mother, too.
Sweet baby, then, forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing,

For thee great blessings ripening be; Thine eldest brother is a king,

And hath a kingdom bought for thee.
Sweet baby, then, forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear,
For whosoever thee offends,

By thy protector threatened are,

And God and angels are thy friends.