A little school of Christian folk there stood Down at the farther end, in which there were Children an heap y-come of Christian blood, That learned in that schoolë year by year Such manner doctrine as men used there; This is to say, to singen and to read, As smallë children do in their childhead.
Among these children was a widow’s son, A little clergion, seven year of age, That day by day to scholay was his won, And eke also, whereso he saw th’ image Of Christë’s mother, had he in uságe, As him was taught, to kneel adown, and say Ave Maria, as he went by the way.
Thus had this widow her little son y-taught Our blissful Lady, Christë’s mother dear, To worship aye, and he forgot it not; For sely child will always soonë lear. But aye when I remember on this mattére, Saint Nicholas stands ever in my presence; For he so young to Christ did reverence.
This little child his little book learning, As he sat in the school at his primére, He Alma redemptoris heardë sing, As children learned their antiphonere; And as he durst, he drew him nere and nere, And hearken’d aye the wordës and the note, Till he the firstë verse knew all by rote.
Nought wist he what this Latin was to say, For he so young and tender was of age; But on a day his fellow gan he pray To éxpound him this song in his languáge, Or tell him why this song was in uságe: This pray’d he him to construe and declare, Full oftentime upon his kneës bare.
His fellow, which that elder was than he, Answér’d him thus: “This song, I have heard say, Was maked of our blissful Lady free, Her to salute, and ekë her to pray To be our help and succour when we dey. I can no more expound in this mattére: I learnë song, I know but small grammére.”
“And is this song y-made in reverence Of Christë’s mother?” said this innocent; “Now certes I will do my diligence To conne it all, ere