Sodenly afraid

Sodenly afraid,
Halfe wakinge halfe sleping,
And gretly dismayd,
A woman sate weping,
With favour in her face far passinge my reson
And of her sore weping this was the encheson.
Her sone in her lappe laid, sche seid, slein by treson,
If weping might ripe be, hit semed then in seson.
Jhesus, so sche sobbed,
So her sone was bobbed
And of his live robbed;
Seinge this wordes as I sey thee,
‘Who can not wepe, com lerne of me.’

I seid I coude not wepe, I was so hard herted.
Scheanswerd me schortly with wordés that smarted,
‘ Lo, nature schall meve thee, thau must be converted,
Thine owne fader this night is dede?’ ‘This sche thwerted.
‘ Jhesus, so my sone is bobbed,
And of his live robbed,
For soth then I sobbed
Verifying this wordes, seing to thee,
Who can not wepe com lerne at me.

‘Now breke hert, I thee praye! this cors lieth so rewlie,
So beten, so wounded, entreted so fuly.
What wight may behold, and wepe not? None truly,
To see my ded dere sone bledinge, lo, this newly.’
Ever stille sche sobbed,
So her sone was bobbed
And of his live robbed.
Newing these wordes, as I sey thee,
“Who can not wepe, com lerne at me.’

On me sche cast her ye, and seid ‘See, man, thy brother!’
Sche kiste him and seid ‘Swete, am I not thy moder?’
And swoninge sche felle; ther hit wold be no nother.
I not which more dedlie, the tone or the toder.
Yett sche revived and sobbed
How her sone was bobbed
And of his live robbed.
‘Who can not wepe,’ this is the lay,
And with that wordes sche vanisched away.