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Astonyd was that lady free,
And had meruayle of that gretynge, Aungell, she sayd, how may that be,
For neuer of man I had knowynge ?
Nowell, &c. Drede the nothynge, Mary mylde,
Thou art fulfylled with great vertew, Thou shalt conceyue and bere a chylde,
That shall be named swete Jesu.
Nowell, &c. She knelyd downe vpon her knee, As thou haste sayd, so may it be, With hert, thought, and mylde chere, Goddes handmayd I am here.
Nowell, &c. Than began her wombe to sprynge,
She went with chylde without man, He that is lorde ouer all thynge,
His flesshe and blode of her had than.
Nowell, &c. Of her was borne our heuen kynge,
And she a mayden neuer the lesse, Therfore be mery, and let vs synge,
For this new lorde of Chrystmas.
Nowell, Nowell, &c. |
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