Now ye folks that be here ye may not long endure, But that ye shall turn to earth I do you ensure; And if ye list of the truth to see a plain figure, Go to St. Paul's and see the portraiture. All is earth and shall to earth as it sheweth there, Therefore ere dreadful death with his dart you dare, And for to turn into earth no man shall it forbear, Wisely purvey you before, and thereof have no leaf. Now sith by death we shall all pass, it is to us certain, For of earth we come all, and to the earth shall turn again; Therefore to strive or grudge it were but vain, For all is earth and shall be earth--nothing more certain. Now earth upon earth consider thou may How earth cometh to earth naked alway, Why should earth upon earth go stout alway, Since earth out of earth shall pass in poor array? I counsel you upon earth that wickedly have wrought, That earth out of earth to bliss may be brought. -- Of songs, nursery rhymes, and carols, there are very many, of which the next three are specimens:-- Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away, He bare him up, he bare him down, He bare him into an orchard brown. Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away. In that orchard there was a hall, That was hanged with purple and pall, And in that hall there was a bed That was hanged with gold so red, Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley. And in that bed there lyeth a knight, His wounds were bleeding day and night; By the bedside there kneeleth a may, And she weepeth both night and day, Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley. And by the bed side there standeth a stone, Corpus Christi is written thereon. Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away. I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and brown, And they go a grazing down by the town, With haye, with howe, with hoye! Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy? I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and white, And they go a grazing down by the dyke, With haye, with howe, with hoye! Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy? I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and black, And they go a grazing down by the lake, With haye, with howe, with hoye! Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy? I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and red, And they go a grazing down by the mead, With haye, with howe, with hoye! Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou pretty little boy? -- Make we merry in hall and bower This time was born our Saviour. In this time God hath sent His own Son to be present, To dwell with us in verament, God is our Saviour. In this time that is befal, A child was born in an ox stall, And after he died for us all, God is our Saviour. In this time an Angel bright Met three shepherds upon a night, He bade them go anon of right To God that is our Saviour. In this time now pray we To Him that died for us on tree, On us all to have pitee, God is our Saviour. -- And how exquisitely graceful too is this:--