Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern/Annotated/A, my dere son

by William Sandys

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.

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