The minor poems of the Vernon ms. ... (with a few from the Digby mss. 2 and 86) ...
Horstmann, Carl, b. 1851., Furnivall, Frederick James, 1825-1910.
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[XLVIII. Savings of St. Bernard: Man's three foes.]*. [Title in Index: Þat a man had þre enemys. The same poem is extant in MS. Laud 108 (together with the Vision of St. Paul), ed. by me in Herrig's Archiv 1874, and MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 106, ed. in Wright, Spec. of lyric poetry, p. 101.]
MS. Harl. 2253, fol. 106 a.
Lustneþ alle a lutel þrowe,
Ȝe þat wolleþ ou-selue y-knowe,
Vnwys þah y be:
3
Ichulle telle ou ase y con
Hou holy wryt spekeþ of mon—
Herkneþ nou to me.
6
Þe holy mon sayþ in is bok
Þat mon is worm & wormes kok,
Ant wormes he shal vede;
9
When is lif is hym by-reued,
In is rug & in ys heued
He shal foule wormes brede.
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12
Þe fleyhs shal rotie from þe bon,
Þe senewes vntuen eueruchon,
Þe body shal to-fye.
15
Ȝe þat wolleþ þat soþe y-suen,
Vnder grases, þer hue buen,
By-holdeþ whet þer lye.
18
Mon is mad of feble fom,
Ne haþ he no syker hom
To stunte alle-wey stille;
21
Ys ryhte stude is elles-wher—
Ihesu, bring vs alle þer,
Ȝef hit be þy wille.
24
Þe fleysh stont aȝeyn þe gost
When þou shalt deȝe, ner þou nost,
Nouþer day ne nyht;
27
On stede ne sitte þou ner so heȝe,
Ȝet a-last þou shalt deȝe—
Greyþ þe whil þou myht.
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30
In false wonyng is monnes lyf,
When deþ draweþ is sharpe knyf,
Do þe sone to shryue;
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ffor ȝef þou const loke a-riht,
Nast þou noþyng bote fyght
Whil þou art a-lyue.
36
Nou þou hast wrong, & nou ryht,
Nou þou art heuy & nou lyht,
Þou lepest ase a roo;
39
Nou þou art sekest & nou holest,
Nou þou art rychest & nou porest—
Nis þis muche woo?
42
Þy fleysh ne swy[n]keþ nyht ne day,
Hit wol han eyse whil hit may,
Ant þe soule sayþ: 'nay,
45
Ȝef ich þe buere to muche meþ,
Þou wolt me bringe to helle-deþ,
Ant wo þat lasteþ ay."
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48
Þus hit geþ bi-tuene hem tuo,
Þat on saiþ "let," þat oþer seyþ "do."
Ne wune hue nout lynne;"
51
Wel we mowe alle y-se
Þe soule shulde maister be,
Þe pris forte wynne.
54
Ne be þe nout þi fleysh vncouþ,
Loke whet comeþ out of þy mouþ,
And elles-wher wyþ-oute;
57
Ȝef þou nymest wel god keep,
Ne fyndest þou non so fyl dung-heep,
Ant þou loke a-boute.
60
Nou þou hast in þat foul hous
A þyng þat is ful precious,
fful duere hit ys a-boht;
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63
Icholde þe ful wilde & wod,
Ȝef þou lesest so muche god,
And ȝeuest hit for noht.
66
Mon, be war & eke wis
Ȝef þou fallest, sone a-rys,
Ne by þou none stounde;
69
Wiþ al þi myhte þou do þis,
Þy soule sihþ, & soþ hit ys
Blysse ichaue y-founde.
72
Mon, þou hauest wicked fon,
Þe alre-worst is þat on (!),
Here nomes y shal telle;
75
Þyn oune fleysh þy worst is fend (!);
Þat best shulde be þy frend,
Þat most doþ þe to quelle.
78
Þou cloþest him in feir[e] shroud,
Ant makest þy fomon fat & proud,
Ȝef y durste seyn;
81
Þou dest þy-selue muche wrong,
Þou makest him bo fat & strong,
To fyhte þe aȝeyn.
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84
Do my counsail & my reed:
Wiþ-drah hym ofte of is breed,
Ant ȝef him water drynke;
87
Ne let hym noþing ydel go,
Bote pyne do hym & wo,
Ant ofte let hym swynke.
90
Coueytise of mony þyng
Þe world þe bringeþ in fleish lykyng,
Ant ȝeueþ þe more & more;
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93
ffals he is & feyr he semeþ,
Alre-best when he þe quemeþ
He byndeþ þe fol sore.
96
Þenne shal he go to noht:
Nast þou noþing hyder y-broht,
Ne nout shalt buere wyþ þe;
99
Þou shalt al one go þy wey,
Wiþ-oute stede & palefrey,
Wiþ-oute gold & fee.
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102
Lucifer, þat foule wyht,
Þat wes him-selue so feyr & bryht,
Þurh prude fel to helle;
105
Wiþ foule wille & foul þoht
He fondeþ bringe þe to noht,
Ant þe forte quelle.
108
Þench þat he þe nes nout god,
He wolde haue þyn huerte-blod—
War þe for his hokes!
111
Do nou ase ichaue þe seyd,
Ant alle þre shule ben a-leyd
Wiþ huere foule crokes.*
114
Ȝef þou seist "my spel ys hard,"
Þat þou ne miht þis foreward
Holde ne dreȝe,
117
A lutel þyng y aske þe—
Sey me soþ, par charite,
Þer-of þat þou ne leȝe!
120
Wher beþ hue þat by-foren vs were,
Lordes, ledyes, þat hauekes bere,
Haden feld & wode?
123
Þe ryche ledies is huere bour
Þat wereden gold on huere tressour,
Wiþ huere bryhte rode?
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126
Hue eten & dronken & maden huem glad,
Huere lyf al wiþ ioie y-lad,
Me knelede huem by-fore;
129
Hue beren huem so swyþe heȝe,
And in a twynglyng of an eȝe
So hue weren for-lore.
132
Wher bueþ hue, þy wedes longe?
Þis muchele murþe, ioie, & songe?
Þis hauekes & þis houndes?
135
Al þat weole is wend a-way,
Ant al is turnd to weylaway,
To monye harde stoundes.
138
Huere parais hue maden here
Ant nou hue liggeþ in helle yfere,
Þat fur huem berneþ euer;
141
Stronge y-pyne & stronge in wo,
Longe is ay & longe ys o,
Out ne comeþ hue neuer.
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144
Ȝef þe feond, þe foule þyng,
Þourh wycked werk oþer eggyng
A-doun haþ þe y-cast,
147
Vp, & be god champioun,
Stond & fal no more a-doun
For a lutel blast,
150
Tac þe rode to þy staf,
Ant þenke on him þat for þe ȝaf
His lyf þat was so luef;
153
He hit ȝef, þou þonke hym;
Aȝeyn þy fo such staf þou nym,
Ant wrek þe on þat þuef.
156
