aude Maria! Christes mother,
Mary mild of thee I mean;
Thou bare my Lord, thou bare my brother,
Thou bare a lovely child and clean!
Thou stoodest full still without blin
When in thy ear that errand was done so,
Tho gracious God thee light within.
Gabrielis nuncio!
Gaude Maria! [preva]lent with grace
When Jesus thy Son on thee was bore,
Full nigh thy breast thou gan Him brace,
He sucked, He sighed, He wept full sore.
Thou fed'st the flower that never shall fade
With maiden's milk, and sung thereto
Lullay, my sweet! I bare thee, babe!
Cum pudoris lilio.
Gaude Maria! thy mirth was away,
When Christ on cross, thy Son, gan die,
Full dolefully on Good Friday,
That many a mother's son it sy.
His blood us brought from care and strife
His watery wound us washed from woe,
The third day from death to life
Fulget resurrectio.
Gaude Maria! thou bird so bright,
Brighter than blossom that bloweth on hill!
Joyfull thou were to see that sight,
When the Apostles, so sweet of will,
All and some did shriek full shrill
When the fairest of shape went you fro,
From earth to heaven he styed full still,
Motu quod fertur proprio.
Gaude Maria! thou rose of Ryse!
Maiden and mother both gentle and free,
Precious princess, peerless of price,
Thy bower is next the Trinity!
Thy Son as law asketh a right,
In body and soul thee took Him to,
Thou reignes with Him right as we find.
In coeli palatio.
Now, blessed bird, we pray thee a boon,
Before thy Son for us thou fall,
And pray Him, as He was on the rood done
And for us drank eisell and gall,
That we may wone within that wall
Wherever is well without woe,
And grant that grace unto us all.
In perenni gaudio.
Of a rose, a lovely rose
And of a rose I sing a song!
earken to me both old and young,
How a rose began to spring,
A fairer rose to my liking
Sprung there never in Kinges land.
Six branches are on that rose beme,
They be both bright and sheen.
The rose is called Mary, heaven queen,
Of her bosom a blossom sprung.
The first branch was of great might,
That sprung on Christmas night!
The star shone over Bethlehem bright,
That men might see both broad and long.
The second branch was of great honour,
It was sent from heaven tower!
Blessed be that fair flower,
Break it shall the fiendes bonds!
The third branch wide spread,
There Mary lay in her bed,
The bright stream three Kings led
To Bethlem there that branch they found.
The fourth branch sprung into hell,
The fiendes boast for to fell,
There might no soul therein dwell,
Blessed be that time that branch gan spring!
The fifth branch was fair in foot,
That sprung to heaven, top and root,
There to dwell and be our bote,
And yet is seen in priestes hands.
The sixth branch by and by,
It is the five joys of mild Mary!
Now Christ save all this company,
And send us good life and long!
Make me merry both more and less,
For now is the time of Christymas!
et no man come into this hall,
Groom, page, nor yet marshall,
But that some sport he bring withal!
For now is the time of Christmas!
If that he say, he can not sing,
Some other sport then let him bring!
That it may please at this feasting!
For now is the time of Christmas!
If he say he can naught do,
Then for my love ask him no mo!
But to the stocks then let him go!
For now is the time of Christmas!
Can I not sing but Hoy!
The jolly shepherd made so much joy!
he shepherd upon a hill he sat,
He had on him his tabard and his hat,
His tarbox, his pipe, and his flagat,
His name was called Jolly, Jolly Wat!
For he was a good herds-boy,
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Can I not sing but hoy.
The shepherd upon a hill was laid,
His dog to his girdle was tayd,
He had not slept but a little braid
But "gloria in excelsis" was to him said
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
The shepherd on a hill he stood,
Round about him his sheep they yode,
He put his hand under his hood,
He saw a star as red as blood.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Can I not sing, etc.
Now farewell Mall, and also Will,
For my love go ye all still,
Unto I come again you till,
And ever more will ring well thy bell.
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Now must I go there Christ was born,
Farewell! I come again to-morn,
Dog, keep well my sheep fro the corn!
And warn well Warroke when I blow my horn!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
When Wat to Bethlehem come was,
He sweat, he had gone faster than a pace,
He found Jesus in a simple place,
Between an ox and an ass.
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
The shepherd said anon right:
I will go see yon farly sight,
Where as the angel singeth on height,
And the star that shineth so bright!
Ut hoy!
For in [his] pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Jesus, I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tarbox and my scrip,
Home to my fellows now will I skip,
And also look unto my sheep!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Now farewell, mine own herds-man Wat!
Yea, fore God, Lady, even so I hat!
Lull well Jesus in thy lap,
And farewell Joseph, with thy round cap!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.
Now may I well both hope and sing,
For I have been at Christ's bearing,
Home to my fellows now will I fling,
Christ of heaven to His bliss us bring!
Ut hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy!
Can I not sing, etc.