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AN OLD CAROL, WITH LULLABY.
1. Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby,
My sweet little babie, what meanest thou to cry ? Bee still, my blessed babe, though cause thou hast
to mourne, Whose bloud most innocent the cruell king hath
sworne : And lo, alas, behold, what slaughter he doth make, Shedding the blood of infants all, sweet Saviour, for
thy sake: A king is borne, they say, which king this king
would kill, Oh woe, and woeful heauy day, when wretches haue
their will.
2. Lulla, &c.
Three kings this king of kings to see, are come
from farre, To each unknowen, with offerings great, by guiding
of a starre: And shepheards heard the song, which angells
bright did sing, Giuing all glory vnto God, for comming of this king* Which must be made away, King Herod would him
kill, Oh woe, and woful heauie day, when wretches have
their will. |
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