Balow, Lalow

J. Mulholland

Balow, lalow! Balow! lalow!

Balow, my babe, lie still and sleep!

It grieves me sore to see thee weep.

Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad,

Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad:

Balow my boy, thy mother's joy,

Thy father breeds me great annoy

Balow, lalow!

When he began to court my love,

And with his sugred words me move,

His faining false and flattering cheer

To me that time did not appear;

But now I see most cruelly

He cares not for my babe nor me

Balow, lalow!

Lie still my darling sleep a while

and when thou wak'st thou'le surely smile;

But smile not as thy father did,

To cozen maids -- nay, God forbid!

But yet I fear thou wilt go near

Thy father's heart and face to bear

Balow, lalow!

I cannot choose but ever will

Be loving to thy father still;

Where'er he go, where'er he ride,

my love with him doth still abide;

In weal or woe, where'er he go

My heart shall ne'er depart him fro,

Ah!