Cradle Song
O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit,
Prepare thy creddil in my spreit,
And I sall rock thee in my hert
And never mair from thee depart.
But I sall praise thee evermoir
With sangis sweit unto thy gloir;
The knees of my hert sall I bow,
And sing that richt
Balulalow!
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.