Lady Anne Bothwell's Balow

Balow, my babe, lie still and sleipe!
It grieves me sair to hear thee weipe:
If thoust be silent, Ise be glad,
Thy maining makes my heart ful sad.
Balow, my boy, thy mothers joy,
Thy father breides me great annoy.
CHORUS: Balow, my babe, ly stil and sleipe,
        It grieves me sair to hear thee weepe.

When he began to court my luve,
And with his sugred wordes to muve,
His faynings fals, and flattring cheire
To me that time did not appeire:
But now I see, most cruell hee
Cares neither for his babe nor mee.

Lye still, my darling, sleipe a while,
And when thou wakest, sweitly smile:
But smile not, as thy Father did,
To cozen maids: nay God forbid!
But yett I feire, thou wilt gae neire
Thy fatheris hart, and face to beire.

I cannae chuse, but ever will
Be luving to thy father still:
Whair-eir he gae, whair-eir he ryde,
My luve with him doth still abyde:
In weil or wae, whair-eir he gae,
Mine hart can neire depart him frae.

But doe not, doe not, prettie mine,
To faynings fals thine hart incline;
Be loyal to thy luver trew,
And nevir change hir for a new:
If gude or faire, of hir have care,
For women's banning's wonderous sair.

Bairne, sin thy cruel father is gane,
Thy winsome smiles maun ease my paine;
My babe and I'll together live,
He'll comfort me when cares doe grieve:
My babe and I right saft will ly,
And quite forgeit man's cruelty.

Fareweil, fareweil, thou falsest youth
That evir kist a woman's mouth!
I wish all maides be warnd by mee
Never to trust mans curtesy;
For, if we doe but chance to bow,
They'le use us then they care not how.

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin