Ȝif hym þi herte, with good will,
He will neþer grucche ne grete;
Hys goost he ȝelde with schrikes schrylle,
So loþe he was þi love to lete.
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¶ Oure lady her hede sche schette in a schete,
And ȝit lay still doted and dased,
As a womman mapped and mased,
Fro riȝtfull resoun robbed and rased,
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Till fele teres gan flete.
XVII.
¶ Þe boke seiþ god askeþ lyte
With þee to make a loveday;
Þi hert weyeþ not half a myte
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Ageyn þe lyf þat lastiþ ay.
Ȝif hym þat, he will not flyte,
But flemon all þi foos away;
He wil þe make chartre and skryte
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In heuen hall to holde þi way.
¶ Vppon a blody bay
A chartre of pees god made to a þef, [folio 133]
To aske mercy he was leef;
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God bad hym go with-oute greef,
Into paradys forto play.
XVIII.
¶ Thys feest at freeste
Godlyche gladed geste,
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Mayden cryst keste,
And rokked hym riȝt in her reste.
XIX.
¶ At neweȝere þe flour ful fressche, [Circumcisio [MS. Circimcisio.] domini.]
In holy writte I vndirstode
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