| Lullay, lullay, lullay lullay
|
| The falcon hath born my make away
|
| He bare him up, he bare him down
|
| He bare him into an orchard brown
|
| In that orchard there was a hall
|
| That was hanged with gold and pall
|
| And in that hall there was a bed
|
| It was hanged with gold so red
|
| And in that bed there lyeth a knight
|
| His wounds bleeding day and night
|
| By that bedside kneeleth a may
|
| And she weepeth both night and day
|
| And by that bedside there standeth a stone
|
| Corpus Christie written thereon
|
| Corpus Christie written thereon
|
| Lullay, lullay, lullay lullay
|
| The falcon hath born my make away
|
| Lullay, lullay, lullay lullay
|
| The falcon hath born my make away
|
| Lullay, lullay, lullay lullay
|
| The falcon hath born my make away
|
| Lullay, lullay, lullay lullay
|
| The falcon hath born my make away |