O sisters, too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor Youngling for whom we sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

Herod the King, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his own sight,
All young children, to slay.

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say;
For Thy parting, nor say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.
By, by, lully, lullay.
By, by, lully, lullay.

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