3 Joseph and Mary walked
through a garden gay,
Where the cherries they grew
upon every tree.
4 O then bespoke Mary,
with words both meek and mild:
'O gather me cherries, Joseph,
they run so in my mind.'
5 And then replied Joseph,
with words so unkind:
'Let him gather thee cherries
that got thee with child.'
6 O then bespoke our Saviour,
all in his mother's womb:
'Bow down, good cherry-tree,
to my mother's hand.'
7 The uppermost sprig
bowed down to Mary's knee:
'Thus you may see, Joseph,
these cherries are for me.'
8 'O eat your cherries, Mary,
O eat your cherries now;
O eat your cherries, Mary,
that grow upon the bough.'
9 As Joseph was a walking,
he heard an angel sing:
'This night shall be born
our heavenly king.
10 'He neither shall be born
in housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,
but in an ox's stall.
11 'He neither shall be clothed
in purple nor in pall,
But all in fair linen,
as were babies all.
12 'He neither shall be rocked
in silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle,
that rocks on the mould.