Classic Poem

" Lullay, my child, and wepe no more,
Slepe and be now still;
The King of Blis thy fader is,
As it was His will."

This endris night
I saw a sight,
A maid a cradel kepe;
And ever she song
And said among:
" Lullay, my child, and slepe."

" I may not slepe,
But I may wepe,
I am so wobegone;
Slepe I wold,
But I am cold,
And clothes have I none",

Me thought I herd
The child answerd;
And to His moder He said:
" My moder dere,
What do I here?
In crib why am I laid?

" I was born
And laid beforn
Bestes, both ox and ass;
My moder mild,
I am thy child,
But He my Fader was.

" Adams gilt,
This man had spilt;
That sin greved me sore.
Man, for thee
Here shal I be
Thirty winter and more. . . .

" Here shal I be
Hanged on a tree,
And die, as it is skill;
That I have bought
Lese will I nought:
It is my Faders will.

" A spere so sharp
Shall perse my hert,
For dedes that I have done.
Fader of Grace,
Whether thou has
Forgeten thy litel sone?" ...