Saturday, 20 December 2014
I Sing of a Maiden. 15th Century. I sing of a maiden that is makeless, King of all kings to her son she ches. He came also stilly there His mother was; As dew in Aprille that falleth on the flower. He came also stilly where is mother lay, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the spray. Mother and maiden was never none but she - Well may such a lady God's mother be! Anon.