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Browse Carols: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # This Endres Nyght A, my dere son, sayd mary, a, my dere, Kys thi moder Jhesu wt a lawghyng chere. This endnes nyght I saw a syght all in my slepe, Mary tht may she sang lullay & sore did wepe. To kepe she sawght full fast a bowte her son fro colde; Joseph seyd, wiff, my joy, my leff, say what ye wolde; No thyng my spouse is In ths howse unto may pay; My son a kyng tht made all thyng lyth in hay. A my dere son. My moder dere, a mend yor chere, & now be styll; Thus for to ly it is sothely my fadirs will. Derision gret passion Infynytely, As it is fownde many a wownd suffyr shall I, On caluery that is so hye there shall I be; Man to restore naylid full sore uppon a tre. A my dere son. Browse Carols: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # |
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