I Sing Of A Maiden

i sing of a maiden that is makeless
king of all kings to her son she ches
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 godës mother be