This ae nighte, this ae nighte, --_Every nighte and alle_, Fire and fleet and candle-lighte, _And Christe receive thy saule_. When thou from hence away art past, --_Every nighte and alle_, To Whinny-muir thou com’st at last; _And Christe receive thy saule_. _381._ fleet] house-room. If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon, --_Every nighte and alle_, Sit thee down and put them on; _And Christe receive thy saule_. If hosen and shoon thou ne’er gav’st nane --_Every nighte and alle_, The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane; _And Christe receive thy saule_. From Whinny-muir when thou may’st pass, --_Every nighte and alle_, To Brig o’ Dread thou com’st at last; _And Christe receive thy saule_. From Brig o’ Dread when thou may’st pass, --_Every nighte and alle_, To Purgatory fire thou com’st at last; _And Christe receive thy saule_. If ever thou gavest meat or drink, --_Every nighte and alle_, The fire sall never make thee shrink; _And Christe receive thy saule_. If meat or drink thou ne’er gav’st nane, --_Every nighte and alle_, The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; _And Christe receive thy saule_. This ae nighte, this ae nighte, --_Every nighte and alle_, Fire and fleet and candle-lighte, _And Christe receive thy saule_. _382._ _The Seven Virgins._ A CAROL All under the leaves and the leaves of life I met with virgins seven, And one of them was Mary mild, Our Lord’s mother of Heaven. ‘O what are you seeking, you seven fair maids. All under the leaves of life? Come tell, come tell, what seek you All under the leaves of life?’ ‘We’re seeking for no leaves, Thomas, But for a friend of thine; We’re seeking for sweet Jesus Christ, To be our guide and thine.’ ‘Go down, go down, to yonder town, And sit in the gallery, And there you’ll see sweet Jesus Christ Nail’d to a big yew-tree.’ So down they went to yonder town As fast as foot could fall, And many a grievous bitter tear From the virgins’ eyes did fall. ‘O peace, Mother, O peace, Mother, Your weeping doth me grieve: I must suffer this,’ He said, ‘For Adam and for Eve. ‘O Mother, take you John Evangelist All for to be your son, And he will comfort you sometimes, Mother, as I have done.’ ‘O come, thou John Evangelist, Thou’rt welcome unto me; But more welcome my own dear Son, Whom I nursed on my knee.’ Then He laid His head on His right shoulder, Seeing death it struck Him nigh-- ‘The Holy Ghost be with your soul, I die, Mother dear, I die.’ O the rose, the gentle rose, And the fennel that grows so green! God give us grace in every place To pray for our king and queen.