Youre fadire dauid, þat an harpowre was,
Conforted men þat stod in hevy cas.
Line 63
(10)
Me thinkith ye do not to me aright,
Line 64
that were his súccessoures, sith instrument
Have ye non left, wherwith to hauë light,
And me counfort in my woful turment.
Me to [doon] esë, have ye no talent,
Line 68
And knowë my counfort[e]les distresse:
Ye aught to wepë for myn hevynesse.
Line 70
(11)
O blissed sone, on the wil I owt-throwe
Line 71
My salt[ë] teres; for singulerly on the
My loke is sette. o, thinke how many a throwe
Thu on myn armës lay, and on my knee
Thu sat, & had many a cusse of me;
Line 75
Also, the to sowke, of my brestis yaf I, [folio 64b]
Thé norissching [right] faire & tenderly.
Line 77
(12)
Now the, from me, withdrawith bitter deth,
Line 78
And makith a wrong[ful] disseueraunce.
Think þou not, sone, in me þat ony breth
Endurë may, þat fele al this greuaunce.
Mi martirdom, me hath at vtteraunce;
Line 82
I nedës stervë mot, sith I the see
Shamefully naked, streit upon this tree.
Line 84
(13)
And this me sleth, that in the open day
Line 85
Thin hertis wondë schewith him so wide,
That allë men see and be-holde it may,
So largëly, lo, openèd is thi side;
O, wo is me, þat sith I may not hide!
Line 89
And, among other of my smert[ë] grevës,
Thu art now put also among [the] thevës,
Line 91
(14)
As thowe, my sone, had be a wiked wight.
Line 92
And lest þat som men also, perauenture,
