_Can I not sing but Hoy!_
_When the jolly shepherd made so much joy!_
The shepherd upon a hill he sat,
He had on him his tabard and his hat,
His tar-box, his pipe, and his flagat.
His name was called Jolly, Jolly Wat;
For he was a good herds-boy,
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
_Can I not sing but hoy._
The shepherd upon a hill was laid,
His dog to his girdle was tayd,
He had not slept but a little braid,
But _gloria in excelsis_ was to him said;
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
The shepherd on a hill he stood,
Round about him his sheep they yode,
He put his hand under his hood,
He saw a star as red as blood.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
Now farewell Mall, and also Will,
For my love go ye all still,
Unto I come again you till,
And ever more Will ring well thy bell.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
Now must I go there Christ was born,
Farewell, I come again to-morn;
Dog, keep well my sheep fro the corn,
And warn well Warroke when I blow my horn!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
When Wat to Bethlehem come was,
He sweat, he had gone faster than a pace.
He found Jesus in a simple place,
Between an ox and an ass.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
The shepherd said anon right:
‘I will go see yon ferly[23] sight,
Where as the angel singeth on-height,
And the star that shineth so bright!’
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
‘Jesus, I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tar-box, and my scrip,
Home to my fellows now will I skip,
And also look unto my sheep!’
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
‘Now farewell, mine own herds-man Wat!’
‘Yea,’fore God, Lady, even so I hat![24]
Lull well Jesus in thy lap.
And farewell, Joseph, with thy round cap!’
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
‘Now may I well both hop and sing,
For I have been at Christ’s bearing;
Home to my fellows now will I fling;
Christ of heaven to His bliss us bring!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
_Can I not sing, &c._
[23] Wondrous.
[24] Am called.