Baloo, my babe, lie still and sleep; It grieves me sore to see thee weep. When thou art merry, I am glad; Thy weeping makes my heart full sad. Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy, Thy father breeds thee much annoy. Baloo, my babe, Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy, Baloo, my babe, lie still and sleep. Baloo, my babe, lie still awhile, And when thou wakest, sweetly smile, But do not smile as father did To cozen maidens, God forbid. But now I fear that thou will leer, Thy father's flattering heart to bear. Baloo, my babe . . . When he began to court my love, With sugared words he did me move, His feigning face and flattering tears That unto me in time appears. But now I see that cruelty Cares neither for my babe nor me. Baloo, my babe . . . Now by my griefs I vow and swear Thee and all others to forbear. I'll neither kiss nor cull nor clap, But lull my youngling in my lap. Be still, my heart; leave off to moan And sleep securely all alone. Baloo, my babe . . .
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 17th century )  [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: John Versmoren
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 29
Word count: 193