| The maiden tok the child here mide, Stille awai in aven tide, Alle the winteres longe night. The weder was cler, the mone light; Than warhth she war anon Of an hermitage in a ston: An holi man had ther his woniyng. Thider she wente on heying, An sette the cradel at his dore, And durste abide no lengore, And passede forth anon right. Hom she com in that other night, And fond the levedi al drupni, Sore wepinde, and was sori, And tolde hire al togeder ther Hou she had iben and wher. The hermite aros erliche tho, And his knave was uppe also, An seide ifere here matines, And servede God and Hise seins. The litel child thai herde crie, And clepede after help on hie; The holi man his dore undede, And fond the cradel in the stede; He tok up the clothes anon And biheld the litel grom; He tok the letter and radde wel sone That tolde him that he scholde done. | The maiden took the child away Stealing into the evening gray, Long she journeyed through wintry night. The weather turned with morning light Then soon she was made aware Of a hermit's house of stone and there A holy man his dwelling made. With great haste, the lad she laid In his cradle at this door, And staying not a moment more, Toward home she took flight. Arriving back the next night, She found her mistress in spirits low, Weeping and crying, filled with woe, And told her all there was to share Of how she had proceeded and where. The hermit rose to morning's glow And up with him his servant also, Together, then, Matins they prayed: To God and his saints, honor they made. Then they heard a baby's yelp The child, it seemed, cried for help. The holy man unlocked the door And found the cradle on the floor; Stripping all the cloths away He looked upon the boy that day. The letter's instructions he carefully read Taking note of all that was said. |
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