I sing of a maiden (anon, 15th century)

I sing of a maiden that
 Matchless is,
King of all Kings is her son
 I wis.
 He came all so still
 Where his mother was
As dew in April
 That falleth on grass.
He came all so still
 To his mother's bower
 As dew in April
 That falleth on shower.
He came all so still
 Where his mother lay
As dew in April
 That falleth on spray.
Mother and maiden
 Was ne'er none but she
Well may such a lady
 God's mother be.