12th Century - Anonymous*

Lullay, lullay, my tiny child,
Too soon you’ll know the world so wild,
Yes all too soon, you will be grown,
And I’ll bide here, alone, alone.
The rushing billows you shall ride,
And the light of the North Star will be your guide,
But yet awhile, I’ll have you stay,
Lullay my sweet one, my child lullay.
For you shall run in meadows green,
And sport with otters all in the stream,
And you shall chase the dappled deer,
And swim with salmon in waters clear.
To pluck the small birds from the sky,
On the tail of the South Wind you shall fly,
And take the high hills for your home,
Blood of my blood, bone of my bone.
The moon must sleep beyond the tree,
So weep sweet maid of Galilee,
The sun must rise before the cross,
To dry your tears and share your loss.
The darkest hour of the starless night
Must bow to the power of the Eastern light,
That heals the Earth and makes us whole,
Heart of my heart, soul of my soul.
And when at last your course is run,
Joy of my joy, my little one,
Beneath the sky you’ll stand alone,
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.
Yes, you shall stand on the coal black sands,
To cross o'er the waters of Western Lands,
But now I have you at my breast,
Lullay my sweet one, gently rest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SrQ9tTEKaI