Þus seide Poule·, Cristes clerk;—
Line 228
Þe feolle Iewes·, wiþ false oþe,
Iewes· ston hard, in sinnes merk,
Beoten a lomb· wiþ-outen loþe,
Softur þen watur· vndur serk,
Line 232
Meode· or· Milk· medled boþe;
Þe Iewes· weoren harde stones;
Softur þen watur· or eny licour,
Or dewȝ þat liþ· on þe lilie flour
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Was cristes bodi· in blod colour,
Þe Iewes wolden· ha broken his bones·:
XIX.
And mony A prophete· gan make mon,
And seide· "lord send us þi lomb
Line 240
Out of þe wildernesses ston,
To fende vs· from þe lyon cromp:"
Of mylde mount of Syon
Be-com mon·, In A Maydens womb,
Line 244
Made a bodi·, wiþ blessed bon,
In a Maidens blod· þi bodi flomb:
At Barreres· weore debate;
Þorwȝ stones· In þe wildernes
Line 248
Men miȝte better· ha crepet I·-wis,
Þen bored· in-to heuene blis,
Til blod· brac vp þe ȝate·:
XX.
Sin monnes sone· was so nedi,
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To beo lad· wiþ lomb mylde,
Whi weore gylours· so gredi
For to defoule· my faire childe?
Cros whi weore þou· so redi
Line 256
To rende my fruit·, feor in fylde?
