This Endres Nyght Lyrics

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.