'This is a mery mornyng,' said Litulle Johne,
'Be Hym that dyed on tre;
A more mery man than I am one
Lyves not in Christiante.
'Pluk up thi hert, my dere mayster,'
Litulle Johne can say,
'And thynk hit is a fulle fayre tyme
In a mornynge of May.'
sheyne] bright.
Anonymous. 15th Cent.
23. Carol
I SING of a maiden
That is makeles;
King of all kings
To her son she ches.
He came al so still
There his mother was,
As dew in April
That falleth on the grass.
He came al so still
To his mother's bour,
As dew in April
That falleth on the flour.
He came al so still
There his mother lay,
As dew in April
That falleth on the spray.
Mother and maiden
Was never none but she;
Well may such a lady
Goddes mother be.