Old Carol

He came all so still
Where His mother was,
As dew in April
That falleth on the grass.

He came all so still
To His mother’s bower,
As dew in April
That falleth on the flower.

He came all so still
Where His mother lay,
As dew in April
That falleth on the spray.

Mother and maiden
Was never none but she;
Well may such a lady
God’s mother be.

Anonymous