(Benjamin Britten)
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
