/Lully, lullay, thou tine child/

O sisters too, how may we do, for preserve this day. This poor youngling for whom we sing.

/"Bye, Bye, lully, lullay"?/


Three wise men would  
ascertain,
Great Herod's crown, it would wane.

So mothers they weep for sons two and under, bodies seem gaudy amongst clothes, asunder.

Though the son of man  is left not slain.
Should he die,
                          It shan't be in vain.