BALOW, my babe, lie still and sleep! 
It grieves me sore to see thee weep. 
Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad, 
Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: 
Balow my boy, thy mother's joy, 
Thy father breeds me great annoy? 
Balow, la-low! 

When he began to court my love, 
And with his sugred words me move, 
His faynings false and flattering cheer 
To me that time did not appear: 
But now I see most cruellye 
He cares ne for my babe nor me? 
Balow, la-low! 

Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile, 
And when thou wak'st thoo'le sweetly smile: 
But smile not as thy father did, 
To cozen maids: nay, God forbid! 
But yet I fear thou wilt go near 
Thy father's heart and face to bear? 
Balow, la-low! 

I cannot choose but ever will 
Be loving to thy father still; 
Where'er he go, where'er he ride, 
My love with him doth still abide; 
In weal or woe, where'er he go, 
My heart shall ne'er depart him fro? 
Balow, la-low! 

But do not, do not, pretty mine, 
To faynings false thy heart incline! 
Be loyal to thy lover true, 
And never change her for a new: 
If good or fair, of her have care 
For women's banning 's wondrous sare? 
Balow, la-low! 

Bairn, by thy face I will beware; 
Like Sirens' words, I'll come not near; 
My babe and I together will live; 
He'll comfort me when cares do grieve. 
My babe and I right soft will lie, 
And ne'er respect man's crueltye? 
Balow, la-low! 

Farewell, farewell, the falsest youth 
That ever kist a woman's mouth! 
I wish all maids be warn'd by me 
Never to trust man's curtesye; 
For if we do but chance to bow, 
They'll use us then they care not how? 
Balow, la-low!