%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Lullaby. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1650-1650 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 11/14/2018 36255

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R227890 COme little Babe, come silly Soule, / thy Fathets shame & Mothers grief, Manchester Central Library Blackletter Ballads Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 29 A Lullaby. A Lullaby. 1650-1650 J.W.

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction / health alcohol Americas animals / nature Bible / biblical figures buildings / architecture catastrophe children class clothing / appearance country / nation crime death economics / commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays / seasons infidelity labor / craft law London love maritime marriage military / war monstrosity mythology / Classical news nobility / court politics / government procreation punishment race / ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex / sexuality supernatural / magic travel trickery / deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth / age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 11/14/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 11/14/2018 1:34:51 PM XBallad McCants, Kristen Created XML Version of Ballad 11/14/2018 1:34:51 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/14/2018 1:34:51 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Adkison, Katie Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/14/2018 1:34:51 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/14/2018 1:34:51 PM Transcriptionist One Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/19/2018 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/7/2017 Bibliographer Rachel LevinsonEmley Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/7/2017 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/7/2018 Checker Sage Gerson Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/7/2018 Checker Sage Gerson Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/16/2018 Transcriber Levinson-Emley, Rachel Created Ballad XML 10/16/2018 Transcriber McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 10/16/2018 Double-Key Transcription Merger Adkison, Katie Created Ballad XML 10/16/2018 Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 10/16/2018 XBallad Raychawdhuri, Anita Created Ballad XML
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">A Lullaby.</hi></hi></seg>
COme little Babe, come silly Soule, thy Fathets shame & Mothers grief, Borne (as I doubt) to all our doles, and to thyself unpappy chief: Sing Lullaby, and wrap it warme, Poore Soul it thinks no creature harm. Thou little think'st, and least dost know the cause of this his Mothers moane, Thou wantst the wit to wayle her woe, and I myself am all alone: Why dost thou weep, why dost thou wail, And knowst not now what thou dost ail? Come little wretch, ah silly heart! mine onely joy, what can I more? If there be any wrong thy smart, that may thy destinie, deplore; 'Twas I, I say against my will, I waile the time, but be thou still. And dost thou smile? Oh thy sweet face, I would thy Dad the same might see, No doubt but it would purchase grace, I know it well, for thee and me: But come to Mother, Babe, and play, For Father false is fled away. Sweet Boy, if it thy fortune chance. thy Father home againe to send, If Death doth strike me with his Lance, yet may'st thou me commend? If any aske thy Mothers name, Tell how by love she purchas'd blame. Then will his gentle heart soon yeeld, I know him of a noble mind, Although a Lyon in the field, a Lamb in Town thou shalt him find, Ask blessing Lad, be not afraid, His sugred lips have me betray'd. Then may'st thou joy and be right glad, although in woe I seeme to moane: Thy Father is no rascall Lad, a noble Youth of blood and bone; His glancing look, if he once smile, Right honest Woman will beguile. Come little Boy, and rock asleep, sing Lullaby, and be thou still, I that can doe nought else but weep, will sit by thee and Lullaby, God blesse my Babe and Lullaby From this his Fathers quality.
Finis London, Printed for J.W. dwelling in the Old-Bayly.