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.

23. Tarry not till to-morrow.

(9 stanzas of 8, abab bcbc)

Ilke a wys wiht scholde wake
And waite, with werk heuen to wynne,
Sadliche, for goddes sake,
And set ȝoure soule sauely fro synne.
Ȝif þou haue kynges of þi kynne,
And in þi clos, catel and corn,
Amende þi misses more and minne,
And mak no tarijng til to-Morn.
Þou leod þat liues as lord in londe,
Þenk hou lowe þou schalt aliht, Page  726
Þauȝ þou haue hundredus at þin honde
To holde þin heste in herte has hiht.
Ȝif þou bragge for þi Beȝanus briht,
Bi-holde hou bare þat þou was born;
Þis dai þou dresse þi dole and diht,
Leste þat þou dye longe er to-Morn.
Þou freike þat art in frendschupe fast
And þinkest no foot mon is þi fere;
Whon þi pompe and pride is past,
A pore renaunt schal beo þi pere.
Loke in londe, and þou mai lere
Hou liȝtly þat þi lyf is lorn;
Whon þi bodi is brouht on bere,
As þou hast browen, þou broukest to-Morn.
Gome, er þou giue vp þi gost,
Bi-greiþ ho schal gripe þi goode:
He schal hit haue þou hatest most:
So fares hit ofte, be myn hode!
Þen al þi fee fonges but foode.
ffor-þi ordeyne þi fare be-forn,
And with a-boue mende þi mis in mode:*. [[or a bone]]
Hit wol þe menske aȝeyn to-Morn.
Parte with ȝor godes in priuete
Vn-to þe pore with-outen pride:
Hit wol þe brynge in blisse to be,
Wiþ-outen bale to buylde & byde.
Þou sette þi seketur fro þi syde,
He wol þe swyke þouȝ he be sworn,
Þin hord, whon he may, hent oþur hyde,
Trust him not after to-Morn.
Þe Sikernes of þi Seketoure,
Þis is þe soþe to seo and say;
Þauȝ he for þi loue lurke and loure,
Þat he has lauht he wol nouȝt lay, Page  727
But skelpe and scrope al þat he may;
He lettes nouþer for skaþe ne skorn;
Þi goodes whon he has geten a-way,
Trust nouȝt on hem after to-Morn.
Mony a wiht wenes ful wel
Out of þis world þei schal neuur wende;
ffor feole lykinges þat þei feel,
Þei make no fors of fo nor frende.
Now trust riht wel þei schal be tenede,
Ar bodi and soule a-two be torn.
Of erþly ese þis is þe ende,
Here to-day, a-wey to-morn.
Ihesus þat on þe Rode was don,
ffrom wo and wondreþ þou vs wisse!
Gladly graunte us vre bone
And bryng us blessedly to þi blisse!
ffor vre loue, Soþ hit is,
Þi syde wiþ scharpe spere was schorn:
Þou saue us þat we ben not his
Þat wolde þat we weore tynt to-Morn.
Marie Moder, Mayden Mylde,
On al mon-kuynde ȝe haue Merci!
In feole fulþes we ben fuylede;
Þis world vseþ þe flessches foly;
Vn-to þi sone þou calle and cry,
Crist crounet wiþ kene þorn,
He ȝiue vs grace to wone him by!
Þen schal vs tyde no teone to-Morn.