A noble youth of blood and bone,
His glancing looks, if he once smile,
Right honest women may beguile.
Come, little boy, and rock a-sleep!
Sing lullaby, and be thou still!
I, that can do naught else but weep,
Will sit by thee and wail my fill:
God bless my babe, and lullaby,
From this thy father's quality.
[Transcribers' note 1: 'lown' in the original]