A Lyric from a Play

Hail! King I thee call,
Hail! most of might,
Hail! the worthest of all,
Hail! duke, hail! knight.
Of greatt and small
Thou art Lorde by right.
Hail! perpetual,
Hail! farest wight.
Here I offer—
I pray thee to take,
If thou wold for my sake;
With this may thou lake—
This litill spruse cofer. Second shepherd:

Hail! litill tiny mop,
Rewarder of mede.
Hail! bot oone drop
Of grace at my nede.
Hail! litill milk sop,
Hail! David sede,
Of oure crede thou art crop.
Hail! in god hede,
This ball
That thou wold resave.
Litill is that I have:
This will I vouchesave
To play thee withall. Third shepherd:

Hail! maker of man,
Hail! sweting,
Hail! so as I can,
Hail! praty miting.
I couche to thee than,
For fain nere greting.
Hail! Lord, here I ordan,
Now at oure meting,
This botell:
It is an old byworde,
It is a good bourde,
For to drink of a gourde—
It holdes a mett potell. Mary:


He that all mightes may,
The Makere of Heven—
That is for to say
My son that I neven—
Rewarde you this day,
As he sett all on seven.
He graunt you for ay
His blis full even
Continuing.
He gif you good grace
Tell furth of this case.
He spede youre pace,
And graunt you good ending. First shepherd:

Farewell! fare Lorde,
With thy moder also. Second shepherd :
We shall this recorde
Where as we go. Third shepherd :
We mon all be restorde,
God graunt it be so. First shepherd :
Amen! to that worde.
Sing we therto
On hight,
To joy all sam,
With mirth and gam,
To the laude of this lam,
Sing we in sight.
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