Lollyby, Lolly, Lollyby by Eugene Field — Read

Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing, / I heard a moder to her dearie singing / "Lollyby, lolly, lollyby. " / And presently that chylde did cease hys weeping, / And on his moder's breast did fall a-sleeping, / To "lolly, lolly, lollyby."

Faire ben the chylde unto his moder clinging, / But fairer yet the moder's gentle singing, -- / "Lollyby, lolly, lollyby. " / And angels came and kisst the dearie smiling / In dreems while him hys moder ben beguiling / With "lolly, lolly, lollyby!"

Then to my harte saies I, "Oh, that thy beating / Colde be assuaged by some swete voice repeating / 'Lollyby, lolly, lollyby; ' / That like this lyttel chylde I, too, ben sleeping / With plaisaunt phantasies about me creeping, / To 'lolly, lolly, lollyby!"

Sometime -- mayhap when curfew bells are ringing -- / A weary harte shall heare straunge voices singing, / "Lollyby, lolly, lollyby; " / Sometime, mayhap, with Chrysts love round me streaming, / I shall be lulled into eternal dreeming / With "lolly, lolly, lollyby. "