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sing of a maiden That is makeles; King of alle kinges To her son she ches. He cam also stille Ther His moder was, As dew in Aprille That falleth on the gras. He cam also stille To His moderes bowr, As dew in Aprille That falleth on the flowr. He cam also stille Ther His moder lay, As dew in Aprille That falleth on the spray. Moder and maiden Was never none but she; Wel may swich a lady Godes moder be. |
I sing
of a maiden That is matchless She chose as her son The king of all kings He came as still To where his mother was As dew in April That falls on the grass He came as still To his mother's bower As dew in April That falls on the flower He came as still Where his mother lay As dew in April That falls on the spray Mother and maiden Was there never one but she Well may such a lady God's mother be. |