| lyric | O my deare hert, young Jesu sweit,
Prepare thy creddil in my spreit,
And I sall rock thee to my hert,
And never mair from thee depart.
But I sall praise thee evermoir
with sanges sweit unto thy gloir:
The knees of my hert sall I bow.
And sing that richt Balulalow! |