Wipe from mine eyes and cheeks a tear.
O mother of God, the which each year
In Aix I visit and adore,
Help me now as ye have done yore,
And ye in Maestricht, Saint Servace,
Devoutly have I set in place
Full many a candle, as ye wot:
I pray you now, forsake me not.
In time of need it is to one’s friends one must look;
I will now let search for her in every nook