Her little child lay weeping in her arm, And, kneeling, piteously to him she said, “Peace, little son, I will do thee no harm:” With that her kerchief off her head she braid, 1662 And over his little eyen she it laid, And in her arm she lulled it full fast, And unto heav’n her eyen up she cast.

“Mother,” quoth she, “and maiden bright, Marý, Sooth is, that through a woman’s eggement 1663 Mankind was lorn, 1664 and damned aye to die; For which thy child was on a cross y-rent: 1665 Thy blissful eyen saw all his torment, Then is there no comparison between Thy woe, and any woe man may sustene.