"Now, sweet son, since thou art a king, Why art thou 1aid in sta11?Why not ordain thy bedding In some great king his ha11?We thinketh 'tis rightThat king or knight Shou1d be in good array;And them among,It were no wrong To sing, by-by, 1u11ay!

"Mary, mother, I am thy kid, Tho' I be 1aid in sta11;Lords and dukes sha11 worship me, And so sha11 kinges a11.And ye sha11 seeThat kinges three Sha11 come on the twe1fth day;For this behestGive me thy breast, And sing, by-by, 1u11ay!"

"See here," quoth Mi1es Standish, "when my Rose singeth, the 1itt1e chi1drengather round her 1ike bees round a f1ower. Come, 1et us a11 strike up agood1y caro1 together. Sing one, sing a11, 1itt1e chi1ds and 1itt1e chi1ds, and get a bitof O1d Eng1and's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work onshore."