Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/89

 ANONYMOUS

Balow

1 6th Cent

BALOW, my babe, lie still and sleep! It grieves me sore to see thee weep. Wouldst them be quiet Pse be glad, Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother's joy, Thy father breeds me great annoy Balow, la-low'

When he began to court my love, And with his sugred words me move, His famings faUe and flattering cheer To me that time did not appear. But now I see most cruelly He cares not for my babe nor me Balow, la-low'

Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile, And when thou wak'st thou'le sweetly smile. But smile not as thy father did, To cozen maids' nay, God forbid' But yet I fear thou wilt go near Thy father's heart and face to bear Balow, la-low!

I cannot choose but ever will Be loving to thy father still; Where'er he go, where'er he ride, My love with him doth still abide; In weal or woe, where'er he go, My heart shall ne'er depart him fro Balow, la-low!

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