Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern/Annotated/A, my dere son
A, MY DERE SON.
A, my dere son, sayd mary, a, my dere,
kys þⁱ moder Jηesu wᵗ a lawghyng chere.
This endnes nyght I sawe a syght
- all in my slepe,
Mary þᵗ may she sang lullay
- & sore did wepe.
To kepe she sawght full fast a bowte
- her son fro colde;
Joseph seyd, wiff, my joy, my leff,
- say what ye wolde;
no thyng my spouse is In þˢ howse
- unto my pay;
my son a kyng þᵗ made all thyng
- lyth in hay.
- A my dere son.
my moder dere, a mend yoʳ chere,
- & now be styll;
thus for to ly it is sothely
- my fadirs will.
derision gret passion
- Infynytely,
as it is fownde many a wownd
- suffyr shall I,
of caluery that is so hye
- ther shall I be;
man to restore naylid full sore
- uppon a tre.
- A my dere son.