Altenglische legenden.

                                
                                  Vpon a cros suffrede passioun — [suffredyst.] 
                                
                                  Nat of our merit, but of thyn hih pite, [not. meryte.] 
                                
                                  Fro Sathanys power to make us to go fre: [Sathanas. vs goon, to fehlt.] 
                                  Line 805 
                                
                                  Now graunte me, Lord, of thy magny|ficence, [graunt.] 
                                
                                  Of thyn hih mercy and benygnyte,
                                
                                  In my deyeng to haue meek pacience, [deying. meke.] 
                                
                                  And in my passioun forto grante me
                                
                                  By meek exaumple to folwe the charite [meke example.] 
                                  Line 810 
                                
                                  Which thow haddist hangyng on the roode,
                                
                                  Whan thow list deie for our alder goode! [aldir.] 
                                
                                  Now in myn eende grante me ful con|stance, [ende. graunt.] 
                                
                                  That I may deyen as thy trewe knyht
                                
                                  And with the palme of hool perseuerance [hooly.] 
                                  Line 815 
                                
                                  Parfourme my conquest only for thy riht; [performe. oonly.] 
                                
                                  That cruel Hyngwar, which stant in thy siht,
                                
                                  May neuer reioise nor putte in memorye [nevir. reioysshe. put.] 
                                
                                  Of my soule that he gat victorye! [gat the v.] 
                                
                                  Vnto Tirantis ys nat victoryous [Vnto.] 
                                  Line 820 
                                
                                  Thouh they thy seruantis slen off fals hatrede; [sleen.] 
                                
                                  For thylke conquest is more glorious
                                
                                  Wher that the soule hath of deth no dreede.
                                
                                  Now, blissid Jhesu, for myn eternal meede,
                                
                                  Only of mercy, medlyd with thy ryht, [thy fehlt.] 
                                  Line 825 
                                
                                  Receyue the speryt of me that am thy knyht!" [spirit.] 
                                
                                  And with that woord he gan his nekke enclyne,
                                
                                  His hed smet off, the soule to heuene wente. [went.] 
                                
                                  And thus he deied, kyng, martyr, and virgyne. [deyde.] 
                                
                                  In gostly feruence so hoote his herte brente: [brent.] 
                                  Line 830 
                                
                                  His liff, his blood for Cristys sake he spente; [Crystes. spent.] 
                                
                                  Such heuenly grace god list vnto hym sende: [suych.] 
                                
                                  With grace he gan, with grace he made an eende. [his ende.] 
                                
                                  Danys of despit the body ther forsook,
                                
                                  A gloryous tresour of gret worthynesse;
                                  Line 835 
                                
                                  But of the martyr the holy hed they took [the hooly martir þe gloryous hed.] 
                                
                                  And bar it forth of froward cursidnesse
                                
                                  In tacouert, shrowded with thyknesse [Into a c. shrowdid.] 
                                
                                  Of thornys sharpe, the story makith mynde,
                                
                                  And ther they hid it, that no-man shulde it fynde. [there.] 
                                  Line 840 
                                
                                  Bvt blissid Jhesu, which euery thyng may se,
                                
                                  His holy martir listnat so forsake,
                                
                                  (B)vt of his grace and merciful pite,
                                
                                  Knowyng that he deied for his sake, [deyde.] 
                                
                                  Suffred a wolf his holy hed to take [suffryd. woulfs. heed. to fehlt.] 
                                  Line 845 
                                
                                  And to conserue it ageyn assautis alle, [assawtys.] 
                                
                                  That foul nor beeste sholde upon it falle — [shuld.] 
                                
                                  An vnkouth thyng and strange, ageyn nature,
                                
                                  That a beeste furyous of felnesse,
                                
                                  Which of custum doth ay his bestial cure [custom.] 
                                  Line 850 
                                
                                  With mannys flessh to stanche his gredy|nesse;
                                
                                  But now he hath forgoten his woodnesse [forgotyn.] 
                                
                                  And meekly lith awaytyng nyht and day
                                
                                  Vpon the hed, as for a synguler pray! — [heed. singuleer.] 
                                
                                  Thus kan the lord his martyrs magnefie [can.] 
                                  Line 855 
                                
                                  Of his goodnesse with many fair myracle,
                                
                                  The rage of beestis appese and modefie;
                                
                                  Ageyn whos myht may been noon obstacle:
                                
                                  Which hath heer shewid a wonderful spectacle: [here. a wondir spectacle.] 
                                
                                  That a fers wolff bamaner obseruance [woulf. be maneer.] 
                                  Line 860 
                                
                                  To serue the martyr list doon his atten|dance.

About this Item

Title: Altenglische legenden.
Author: Horstmann, Carl, ed. b. 1851.
Canvas: Page 411
Publication: Heilbronn,: Gebr. Henninger,; 1881.
Subject terms: Saints -- Legends; English poetry; Legends

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Collection: Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse
Link to this Item: https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001
Link to this scan: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/c/cme/afw1383.0001.001/583:4.21

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Full citation: "Altenglische legenden." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 22, 2025.

Altenglische legenden.

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