University of Virginia Library

CXXXII.

[A my dere a my dere son sayd mary, a my dere]

A my dere a my dere son sayd mary, a my dere

[bis]

kys þi moder Jhesu with a lawghing chere.
This endurs nyght
I sawe a syght
all In my slepe
mary þat may
she sang lullay

bis

and sore did wepe.
To kepe she sawght
fful fast abowte
her son fro colde

[bis]

Joseph seyd wiff
my Joy my leff
say what ye wolde
no thyng my spouse
is In þis howse
vnto my pay
my son a kyng
þat made all thyng
lyth in hay.
A my dere

[ut supra].

my moder dere
amend your chere
and now be styll
thus for to ly
it is sothely

bis

my fadirs will
derision
gret passion
Infynytly
as it is fownde
many a wound
suffyr shall I
on caluery
that is so hye
ther shall I be
man to restore
naylid full sore
vpon a tre
A my dere

[ut supra].