Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Anglo-Irish poems of the Middle Ages: The Kildare Poems (Author: [unknown])

Poem 10

Lollai, Lollai, litil child

{MS fol 32r}

    1. 1] Lollai, lollai, litil child, whi wepistou so sore?
      Nedis mostou wepe, hit was iyarkid the yore
      Euer to lib in sorow, and sich and mourne euere,
      As thin eldren did er this while hi aliues wore.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, child lolai, lullow.
      Into vncuth world incommen so ertow.
    2. 7] Bestis and thos foules, the fisses in the flode,
      And euch schef aliues imakid of bone and blode,
      Whan hi commith to the world hi doth ham silf sum gode;
      Al bot the wrech brol that is of Adam is blode.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, to kar ertou bemette;
      Thou nost noght this worldis wild before the is isette.
    3. 13] Child, if betidith that thou ssalt thriue and the,
      Thench thou were ifostred vp thi moder kne.
      Euer hab mund in thi hert of thos thinges thre:
      Whan thou commist, whan thou art and what ssal com of the.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, child lollai, lollai,
      With sorow thou com into this world, with sorow ssalt wend awai.
      4. {MS fol 32v}
    4. 19] Ne tristou to this world, hit is thi ful vo.
      The rich he makith pouer, the pore rich also;
      Hit turneth wo to wel and ek wel to wo.
      Ne trist no man to this world, whil hit turnith so.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, thi fote is in the whele.
      Thou nost whoder turne to wo other wele.
    5. 25] Child, thou ert a pilgrim in wikidnis ibor,
      Thou wandrest in this fals world, thou loke the bifor.
      Deth ssal com with a blast vte of a well dim horre
      Adam is kin dun to cast, him silf hath ido befor.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, so wo the worth Adam
      In the lond of paradis, throgh wikidnes of Satan.
    6. 31] Child, thou nert a pilgrim bot an vncuthe gist,
      Thi dawes beth itold, thi iurneis beth icast;
      Whoder thou salt wend north or est,
      Deth the sal betide with bitter bale in brest.
      Lollai, lollai, litil child, this wo Adam the wroght,
      Whan he of the appil ete and Eue hit him betacht.