A baby is born us bliss to bring;
A maiden I heard lullay sing:
‘Dear son, now leave thy weeping,
They father is the king of bliss.’
‘Nay, dear mother, for you weep I not,
But for the things that shall be wrought
Or that I have mankind i-bought:
Was there never pain like it iwis.’
‘Peace, dear son, say thou me not so.
Thou art my child, I have no mo.
Alas! That I should see this woe:
It were to me great heaviness.’
‘My handes, mother, that ye now see,
They shall be nailed on a tree;
My feet, also, fastened shall be:
Full many shall weep that it shall see.’
‘Alas! dear son, sorrow is now my hap;
To see the child that sucks my pap
So ruthfully taken out of my lap:
It were to me great heaviness.’
‘Also, mother, there shall be a spear
My tendere heart all-to-tear;
The blood shall cover my body there:
Great ruthe it shall be to see.’
‘Ah! dear son, that is a heavy case.
When Gabriel kneeled before my face
And said, “Hail! Lady, full of grace,”
He never told me nothing of this.’
‘Dear mother, peace, now I you pray,
And take no sorrow for that I say,
But sing this song, “By, by, lullay,”
To drive away all heaviness.’
No comments:
Post a Comment