Hymns to the Virgin & Christ, the Parliament of devils, and other religious poems.

Poems to Christ.

The Sweetness of Jesus.

[Lambeth MS. 853, ab. 1430 A.D., page 14.]

IHesu, þi swetnes, who-so myȝte it se, And þerof haue a cleere knowynge, Al erþeli loue bittir schulde be Saue þin a-loone without leesinge. Line 4 I praie þee, lord, þat lore leere me, Aftir þi loue to haue longynge, And sadli to sette myn herte on þee, In þi loue to haue most liking. Line 8

So likinge loue in erþe noon is; In soule who-so coude him soþeli se, Him to loue were mykil blis, For king of loue callid is he. Line 12 ¶ With true loue, y wolde þis, So faste to him bounde be, Þat myne herte were holli his So þat no þing likid me but he. Line 16

IF y for kyndenes schulde loue my kyn, [page 15] Þan me þenkiþ in my þouȝte Bi kyndeli skile y schulde bigynne At him þat haþ me maade of nouȝt. Line 20 ¶ His lijknes he sette my soule with-inne, And al þis world for me haþ wrouȝt, As fadir he fondid my loue to wynne, For to heuene he haþ me brouȝt. Line 24

Line 24

As moder of him, y make now mynde, Þat bifore my birþe to me toke hede, And siþen with baptym waischiþ þat kynde Þat foulide was þoruȝ adams dede. Line 28 ¶ With noble mete he norischiþ oure kynde, For with his fleisch he dooþ us fede, A betere fode may no man fynde, To lastynge lijf it wole us lede. Line 32

Oure broþer & sustir he is bi skile, For he so seide, & lerid us þat lore Þat who so wrouȝte his fadris wille Briþeren & sustren to him þei wore. Line 36 ¶ Mi kinde also he took þer-tille, [page 16] Ful truli truste y him þerfore Þat he wole neuere lete me spille, But wiþ his mercy salue my sore. Line 40

The loue of him passiþ, certis, Al erþeli loue þat may ben here; God & man, my spouse he is, Weel ouȝte y, wrecche, to loue him dere. Line 44 ¶ Boþe heuen and erþe holli is his, He is lord of greet powere, Callid he is þe kyng of blis, His loue me longiþ for to leere. Line 48

Aftir his loue me þenkiþ long For he haþ myne ful dere y-bouȝte; Whanne y was wente fro him with wrong, From heuen to erþe he me souȝte. Line 52 ¶ Mi wrecchid kynde for me he fonge, And al his nobley he sette as nouȝt, Pouert he suffride, & peynes stronge, Aȝen to blis or he me brouȝte. Line 56

Line 56

Whanne y was þral, to make me fre, [page 17] Mi loue fro heuene to erþe him ledde, My loue aloone haue wolde he, For þerfore he leide his lijf to wedde. Line 60 ¶ Wiþ my foo he fauȝte for me, Woundid he was, and bittirli bledde, His preciouse blood ful greet plente Ful piteuouseli for me was schedde. Line 64

Hise sidis bloo and blodi were Þat sumtyme were ful briȝt of blee; His herte was persid wiþ a spere, Hise ruli woundis were ruþe to se. Line 68 ¶ Mi raunsum forsoþe he paied þere, And ȝaf his lijf for gilt of me, His deeþ schulde be to me ful dere, And perse myn herte for pure pitee. Line 72

For pitee myn herte schulde breke on two, To his kyndenes if y took hede; Encheson y was of al his woo, He suffride ful harde for my mis-dede. Line 76 ¶ To lastyng lijf þat y schulde go, [page 18] He suffride deeþ in his manhede; And whanne his wille was to lyue also, Aȝen he roos þoruȝ his godhede. Line 80

To heuen he wente with myche blis Whanne he ouercome his bataile, His baner ful brode displaied is Whanne so my fo wole me assaile. Line 84 ¶ Weel ouȝte y, wrecche, to ben his, He is þat freend þat neuere wole faile: No þing desiriþ he þat is, But true loue aȝen for his trauaile. Line 88

Line 88

Thus wolde my spouse for me fiȝt, And for me was woundid sore, For my loue his deeþ was diȝt; What loue myȝte he kiþe more? Line 92 ¶ To ȝelde his loue haue y no myȝte But loue him hertili þerfore, And worche weel with werkis riȝt Þat he haþ lerid me with loueli lore. Line 96

Wiþ loueli lore his werkis to fille, [page 19] Weel ouȝte y, wrecche, if y were kynde, Nyȝt & day to worche his wille, And euere haue þat lord in mynde. Line 100 ¶ But goostli foos greuen me ille, And my freel fleisch makiþ me blinde; Þerfore his mercy y take me tille, For betere bote can y noon fynde. Line 104

Betere bote is noon to me Þan to his mercy truli me take Þat with his fleisch haþ made me free, And me, wrecche, his childe wole make. Line 108 ¶ I praie þat lord for his pitee Þat he for synne me not forsake, But ȝeue me grace fro synne to flee, And him to loue let me neuere slake. Line 112

Ihesu, for þe swetnes þat in þee is, Have mynde of me whan y hens wende, With stidfast truþe my wittis þou wis, And, lord, þou scheelde me from þe feende! Line 116 ¶ For þi mercy forȝeue me my mys, [page 20] Þat wickid werk my soule neuere schende, And lede me, lord, in-to þi blis, With þee to wone withoute eende. Line 120

AMEN.

Be my Coumfort, Crist Ihesus!

[Lambeth MS. 853, ab. 1400 A.D., page 20.]

IHesus þat sprong of iesse roote, As us haþ prechid þi prophete, Flour and fruyt boþe softe and sote, To mannis soule of sauour sweete; Line 4 Ihesu! þou brouȝtist man to boote Whanne gabriel gan marie greete, To felle oure foomen vndir foote, In hir þou siȝ a semeli sete: Line 8 ¶ A mayden was þi modir meete, Of whom þou took fleisch for us; As ȝe may boþe my balis beete, So be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 12

Ihesu, þou art wijsdom of witt Of þi fadir ful of myȝt! Mannys soule, to saue it, In poore aparaile þou were piȝt. Line 16 ¶ Ihesu! þou were in cradil knyt, [page 21] In wede wrappid boþe day & nyȝt, In bethleem born, as þe gospel writt, With aungelis song and heuene liȝt. Line 20 Barn y-born of a beerde briȝt, Ful curteis was þi comeli cus; Þoruȝ uertu of þat sweete siȝte, So be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 24

Ihesu, þat were of ȝeeris ȝong, Fair and sresch of hide and hue,

Whanne þou were in þraldom þrong, And turmentid with many a iewe, Line 28 ¶ Whanne blood and watir were out wrong, For beetinge was þi bodi blewe; As a clot of clay þou were for-clonge, So deed in þrouȝ þanne men þee þrewe. Line 32 ¶ But grace of þi graue grew; Þou roos up quik coumfort to us. For hir loue þat þis councel knewe, So be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 36

Ihesu, sooþfast god and man, [page 22] Two kindis knyt in oon persone, Þe wondir werk þat þou bigan Þou hast fulfillid in fleisch & bone. Line 40 ¶ Out of þis world wiȝtli þou wan, Liftynge up þi silf a-loone; For myȝtili þou roos, & ran Streiȝt vnto þi fadir in trone. Line 44 ¶ Now dare man make no more moone; For man it is þou wrouȝte þus, And god wiþ man is maade at oone, So be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 48

¶ Ihesu crist, holi and hende, Þat beerde was blessid þat bare þee, Aftir hir whanne þou gan sende, In heuene blis wiþ þee to bee. Line 52 ¶ Out of þis worlde whanne sche wende, Boþe bodi & soule were sett in see Hiȝer þan ony of [of in margin.] aungelis kinde, In troone a-fore þe trynyte. Line 56 ¶ Þere may þe sone his modir se [page 23] In heuene an hiȝ to helpen us; Þou peerless princes, praie for me! And be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 60

Line 60

Ihesu, my souereyne sauyour, Almyȝti god, þere ben no moo: Crist, þou be my gouernour, Þi seiþ lete me not fallen fro. Line 64 ¶ Ihesu, my ioye and my socoure! In my body and soule also, God, þou be my strengist fode, And wisse þou me whan me is wo. Line 68 ¶ Lord, þou makist freend of foo, Lete me not lyue in langour þus, But se my sorowe, & seie now 'ho,' And be my coumfort, crist ihesus. Line 72

Ihesu, to þee y crie and greede; Prince of pees, to þee y praye; Þou woldist bleede for mannis nede, And suffre manye a feerdful fray. Line 76 ¶ Þou me fede in al my drede [page 24] Wiþ pacience now and ay Mi lijf to lede in word & dede As is moost plesaunt to þi pay, Line 80 ¶ And to deie weel whanne it is my day. Ihesu, þat deied on tree for us, Lete me not be þe feendis pray, But be my coumfort, crist ihesus! [[The two Hymns to the Virgin, "Heil be þou, Marie," printed on pages 4-7 of this Text, follow here.]] Line 84

AMEN.

Richard de Castre's Prayer to Jesus.

[Lambeth MS. 853, ab. 1430 A.D., page 28, written without breaks.]

Oratio magistri Richardi de castre, quam ipse posuit.

IHesu, lord, þat madist me, And wiþ þi blessid blood hast bouȝt, Forȝeue þat y haue greued þee With worde, with wil, & eek with þouȝt. Line 4

¶ Ihesu, in whom is al my trust, Þat deied upon þe roode tree, Withdrawe myn herte from fleischli lust, And from al wordli vanyte! Line 8

¶ Ihesu, for þi woundis smerte On feet & on þin hondis two, Make me meeke & low of herte, And þee to loue as y schulde do! Line 12

¶ Ihesu, for þi bitter wounde Þat wente to þin herte roote, For synne þat haþ myn herte bounde, Þi blessid bloode mote be my bote. Line 16

¶ And ihesu crist, to þee y calle Þat art god ful of myȝt; Kepe me cleene, þat y ne falle In deedli synne neiþer be day ne nyȝt. Line 20

Line 20

¶ Ihesu, graunte me myne askinge, Perfite pacience in my disese, And neuere mote y do þat þing Þat schulde þee in ony wise displese. Line 24

¶ Ihesu, þat art oure heuenli king, Sooþefast god, & man also, Ȝeue me grace of good eendinge, [page 29] And hem þat Y am holden vnto. Line 28

¶ Ihesu, for þe deedly teeris Þat þou scheeddist for my gilt, Here & spede my praiers, Aud spare me þat y be not spilt. Line 32

¶ Ihesu, for them y þe biseche Þat wraþþen þee in ony wise, With-holde from hem þin hond of wreche, And lete hem lyue in þi seruice. Line 36

¶ Ihesu, moost coumfort for to se Of þi seintis euerychoone, Coumfort hem þat careful been, And helpe hem þat ben woo bigoon. Line 40

¶ Ihesu, keepe hem þat been goode, And ameende hem þat han greued þee, And sende hem fruytis of erþeli fode As ech man nediþ in his degree. Line 44

¶ Ihesu, þat art with-outen lees Almyȝti god in trynyte, Ceesse þese werris, & sende us pees Wiþ lastinge loue & charitee. Line 48

Ihesu, þat art þe goostli stoon Of al holi chirche in myddil erþe,

Bringe þi fooldis & flockis in oon, And rule hem riȝtli with oon hirde. Line 52

¶ Ihesu, for [page 30] þi blessidful blood, Bringe, if þou wolt, þo soulis to blis For [[? for Fro]] whom y haue had ony good, And spare þat þei han do a-mys. [["Who-so wilneþ," printed on pp. 11-12 of The Babees Book, &c., follows here, on p. 30 of the MS.]] Line 56

AMEN.

Do Merci bifore thi Iugement.

[Lambeth MS. 583, ab. 1340 A.D., page 54, written without breaks.]

There is no creatour [MS. 'creature,' but a later hand has written our over the ure of 'creature,' and dotted the ure out.] but oon, Maker of euery creature, God a-loone, & euer more oon, And þre in oon alway to endure. Line 4 ¶ To þat lord we make oure moone To whom al coumfort is, & cure, To þinke how freel we ben echoon. In þis world is hard auenture: Line 8 ¶ Who-so þerof is moost ensure, Sunnest schal he be schamed and schent. Or þou þe world with fier pure, Do merci bifore þi iugement. Line 12

Lord, do mercy or þat þou deeme, Lest þou dampne þat þou hast wrouȝt: What ioie were it a feend to qweme, To ȝeue him þat þou hast dere bouȝt. Line 16 ¶ Out of þi siȝt if þou us fleme, We ben dampned riȝt as nouȝt; Þi passioun make us briȝt & schene In wil, in worde, in dede & þouȝt! Line 20

Line 20 ¶ For whi, synne haþ us þoruȝ souȝt; Þer-fore ameende þou oure entent To þe doom or we bee brouȝt! Do mercy bifore þi iugement. Line 24

We axe þi mercy, þou heuenli king, [page 55] For þou art lord of ech degre; Of erþe þou madist oure bigynnynge, And aftir with spirit enspirid us free. Line 28 ¶ Wiþ trees and gras þou ȝaf us growinge, Wiþ beestis, feelinge lijf haue we, And with aungils we haue vndirstondinge, And þerbi we schulden know þee. Line 32 Þou baddist þat alle schulde multiplie, But we ben fals & necligent: For we may not hide us from þin iȝe, Do merci bifore þi iugement. Line 36

Þou baddist us axe merci, & we schulden haue; It dooþ us coumfort on þee to calle, Þou hast ordeined man to saue, For þi merci passiþ þi werkis alle. Line 40 ¶ Þi herte blood for us þou ȝaue, Þou madist us free where we were þralle: Lete neuere þe feend oure soulis craue Þat waischen was in þin holi welle! Line 44 ¶ Oure fleisch is freel, it makiþ us falle, Wiþ grace [page 56] we risen & schulen repente; And in hope of þee we schal: Haue merci to-fore thi iugement. Line 48

We axe mercy bi riȝtwijsnes, For þi biheest is al oure riȝt, And of þi greet kindenes Þou hast mercy to us bihiȝt. Line 52

Line 52 ¶ We ne be but erþe watirlees, Þat to springe vertu haþ no myȝt; Þis worldis likerose bittirnes Bireueþ us discrecioun & oure siȝt. Line 56 ¶ Þe feend, þe fleisch, þe worlde, wiþ us ay fiȝt; Þus be we taken in turment; Þerfore, lord, or þi doom be diȝt, Do merci bifore þi iugement. Line 60

Wiþ synne we han defoulid oure kinde, And kinde may we not eschewe; To wraþþe þee, god, we ben vnkinde; Þou kindeli king, we ben vntrewe! Line 64 ¶ Aȝens þis can no clerk skile fynde; Graciose god, upon us rewe; Take not oure trespase in to mynde, But in þi doom lete merci sue! [page 57] Line 68 ¶ For þouȝ we wolden from þee remewe, In ech place þou art present; Or we were born, lord, þou us knewe; Do merci bifore þi iuggement. Line 72

Lord! oure soule, oure spirit, oure lijf, Into þin hondis, lord, we bitake; Out of temptacioun and strijf, Lord, kepe us wheþer we slepe or wake. Line 76 ¶ Ihesu, for þi woundis fyue, And for þi [blessid] modir sake, Þe feend away from us þou dryue Whanne deeþ with us maistrie schal make, Line 80 ¶ And suffre him not oure soule away to take For whiche on roode þou were to-rent; Aȝens þi doom we tremble & quake; Do merci tofore þi iugement! Line 84

God, þou deeme us riȝtwijsli, Medele þou merci with execusioun,

For we han forfetid wrongfulli; Take hede to oure contricioun! Line 88 ¶ We ȝeelde us synful & sory By [page 58] Knowliche & confessioun; [MS. confessoun.] Þi passioun & þi mercy We take to oure entensioun. Line 92 ¶ Bileeue is oure saluacioun, With keping of þi comaundement. God, putte þin holi passioun Bitwixe us & þi iugement! [["As y gan wandre," printed below, follows here.]] Line 96

Amen.

The Love of Jesus.

(Pages 90-102, written without breaks.)

LOue is lijf þat lastiþ ay Þere it is in crist made fest, Whanne wele ne wo it slake may, As writen han men wisest. Line 4 ¶ Þe nyȝt it turneþ in-to day, Traueile it turneþ in to rest: If þou wolt do as y þee say, Þou schalt þanne be with þe best. Line 8

¶ Loue is a þouȝt with greet desijr, And also of a fair loouynge; Loue y likne in-to a fier Þat slakeen may for no þing. Line 12 ¶ Loue clensiþ us of oure synne, loue oure blis schal bringe, Loue þe kingis herte may wynne, loue of ioie euere may synge. Line 16

Þe socour of loue is liftid hie, For into heuene it ran; Me þenkiþ in herte þat it is sliȝe, Þat makiþ þe peple boþe pale & wan. Line 20 ¶ Þe beed of blis it goiþ ful nyȝe,— [page 91] I telle ȝou it as y can,— Þerof us þenkiþ þe wey to drie, For euere loue coupliþ god to man. Line 24

Line 24 ¶ Loue is hetter þan þe cole To hem þat of it is fayn & frike, Þe flawme of loue, who myȝte it þole, If it were euermore lijke: Line 28 ¶ Loue us heliþ, & makiþ in qwart, And liftiþ us up in-to heuene-riche, And loue rauischiþ crist in-to oure herte, I woot nowhere no loue it is lijke. Line 32

¶ Leerne to loue if þou wolt lyue Whanne þou schalt hens fare; Al þi þouȝt to him þou ȝeue Þat may þee kepe from care; Line 36 ¶ Loke þou þin herte fro him not twynne Þouȝ þou wandre euery where, So þou may weelde him with-inne, And loue him hertili euermore. Line 40

Ihesu, þat me loue hast lende, [page 92] In-to þi loue þou me bringe, Take to þee al [al in margin.] myn entente Þat þou be to me myn ȝerninge, Line 44 ¶ And þat synne from me awei were went, And loue come myn owne coueitynge, Þat my soule hadde herd & hent Þe songe of þi sweete louynge. Line 48

¶ Þi loue is to us euerelastynge Fro þat tyme þat we may it verrili fele, Þerinne make we euere brennynge, Þat no þing may it uerrili keele. Line 52 ¶ Mi þouȝt, take it into þin hand, And stable þou it ilke a dele, Þat y be no þing hildande To loue uerrili þe worldis wele. Line 56

Line 56 ¶ If y loue ony erþeli þing Þat paieþ to my wille, And sette my ioie in foule likinge, Whanne it may come me tylle. Line 60

I may drede at my departynge [page 93] Þat it wole be attir & ille, For alle my welþis ben wepinge whanne peyne my soule wolde spille. Line 64

¶ Þe ioie þat men heere seen Is ful likinge vnto þe iȝee; Þat now is fair, freische, and grene, And anoon aftir is welkid awey: Line 68 ¶ Þis is þe world, alle men moun seen, And wole be vnto domysday, Ful greet traueile, & myche tene; To flee þat is ful hard in fay. Line 72

¶ If þou leue yuel in al þi þouȝt, And hate þe filthe of synne, And ȝeue to him þat þee dere bouȝt, Þat he weelde þee with-inne, Line 76 ¶ Al þi soule þi lord haþ souȝt, And þerof he wolde not mynne; Þus schalt þou to blis be brouȝt, And wonye heuene wiþ-ynne. Line 80

¶ For- [page 94] soþe þe kinde of loue is þis,— Þere it is trusty and trewe,— To stoonde euere in stabilnes, And chaunge neuere for no newe. Line 84 ¶ Þat wiȝt þat þat loue may finde, Or euere in herte it knewe, Fro care it turneþ þat kinde: Such a mirþe fyndiþ to fewe. Line 88

Line 88

¶ For-þi, loue þou as y þee rede; Crist is trewe loue, as y þe telle; Wiþ aungilis take þou þi stide; Þat ioie loke þou not felle. Line 92 ¶ In erþe hate [? loue.] þou no maner qweed, But loke þat þi loue may dwelle, For loue is more strenger þan deed, Loue is more harder þan helle. Line 96

¶ Loue is liȝt, & a birþun fyne; Loue gladiþ boþe ȝonge and oolde; Loue is wiþout ony pyne, As louers han me toolde. Line 100 ¶ Loue is goostli deli- [page 95] ciouse as wijn Þat makiþ men boþe big & bolde; To þat loue y schal me so faste tyne, Þat y in herte it [it in margin.] euermore holde. Line 104

¶ Loue is þe swettiste þing Þat heere in erþe men may han; Loue is goddis owne derlinge; Loue byndiþ boþe blood & baan. Line 108 ¶ In loue, þerfore, be oure likinge; I knowe no betere won; For me oonli, & my louynge, Loue makiþ boþe but oon. Line 112

¶ But al fleischli loue schal fare As dooþ þe flouris of may, And schal be lastande na mare But as it were an hour of a day; Line 116 ¶ And sorewen aftir þat ful sare Hir lust, her pride, & al her play, Whanne þei aren cast in care, In-to pyne þat lastiþ ay. Line 120

Line 120

¶ Whanne her bodies in þe fen liggen, Þanne schulen her soulis be in drede, [page 96] And up aȝen as men schulen risen, And answere for her mys dede. Line 124 ¶ If þei be seen þan in synne, And now heere þer liif þei ledde, Þan schulen þei ligge helle wiþ-inne, And derkenes haue to mede. Line 128

¶ Riche men her hondis schal wrynge, And her wickid werkes abie In flawmes of fier bitterli brennynge, Wiþ care and sorewe schamefastli. Line 132 ¶ If þou wolt loue, þan may þou synge To þi lord crist in melodie: Þe loue of him ouercomeþ al þing; In loue lyue we & die. Line 136

Ihesu! god-is sone þou art, lord of moost hiȝ magiste, Sende verrili loue in-to myn herte Oonly [page 97] to coueite þee! Line 140 ¶ Reue me likinge of þis world, Mi loue þat þou may be; Take myn herte in-to þi ward, And sette þou me in stabilte! Line 144

¶ Ihesu! þou, þe maidens sone, Þat with þi blood me bouȝte, Þirle my soule with þi spere anoon, Þat myche loue in men hast wrouȝt. Line 148 ¶ Me longiþ þou lede me into þi siȝt, And fastne þere in þee my þouȝt; In þi swetnes make myn herte liȝt, Þat al my woo wexe to nouȝt. Line 152

Line 152 ¶ Ihesu, my god & my loueli king! Forsake þou not my desijr; Mi þouȝt make to be meekinge; I hate boþe pride & ire. Line 156 ¶ Þi wil is al my desirynge; Of loue kyndele þou þe fier, Þat y with þi sweete louynge Wiþ aungils take myn hire. Line 160

¶ Wounde þou myn herte wiþ-inne, And weelde me at þi wille; Of blis þat neuere schal blynne, Þou fastne me þat y not spille. Line 164 ¶ Þat y þi loue may wynne, [page 98] Of grace my þouȝt þou fille, And make me cleene of synne Þat y may come þee tille. Line 168

¶ Ihesu! putte in-to myn herte Þe memorie of þi pyne! In sijknes, [MS. lijknes.] and eek in qwarte, Þi loue be euere myne! Line 172 Mi ioie is al of þee; My soule, take it as þine; Mi loue euere wexinge be, So þat y neuere dwynne. Line 176

¶ My loue is euere in siȝinge While y dwelle in þis way; Mi loue is in þee longynge, Þat bindiþ me niȝt & day Line 180 ¶ Tille y come vnto my king, Þere y wone with him may, And se his fair schynynge In lijf þat lastiþ ay. Line 184

Line 184

¶ Longinge is in me so lent For loue, þat y ne can lete; His loue he haþ me now sent Þat euery bale may bete; Line 188 ¶ Siþen þat myn herte was brent In cristis loue so sweete, Al woo fro me awei is went And we neuere aȝen schulen mete. Line 192

¶ I sitte and synge of loue longynge Þat in my [page 99] brest is now bred. Ihesu, my king and my ioiynge! Whi ne were y to þee led? Line 196 ¶ Ful weel y woot in al my ȝernynge, In al ioie, y schulde be fed. Ihesu! me brynge to þi woniynge, For þe blood þat þou hast bleed. Line 200

¶ Demed he was on a crosse to heng, Þe fair aungelis foode; Wiþ scourgis þei gan him sore swing Whanne þat he bounden stoode; Line 204 ¶ His brist was bloo in betyng, Not spilt was his blood; Þe þorn crowned þat king Þat doon was on þe roode. Line 208

White was his nakid breest, & reed his bloodi side, [[See Political R. and L. Poems, p. 214.]] Wan was his face fairest, Hise woundis depe & wide. Line 212 ¶ Þe iewis wolde not þan reste To pyne him more in þat tide; Al he suffride þat was wisest, His blood to lete doun glide. Line 216

Line 216 ¶ Blyndid were hise faire yȝen, And al his fleisch bloodi for-bete; Hise [page 100] louesum lijf þat alle men siȝe[n], Ful myldeli he out gan lete. Line 220

¶ Deed & lijf bigunne to striuen Wheþer myȝt be maister þere; Liif was slayn, & roos a-ȝen; In-to blis ful fair may we fare. Line 224 ¶ He þat þee bouȝt haue al þi þouȝt, And lede he it in to his loore; Ȝeue al þin herte to crist in qwarte, And so to loue him euermore. Line 228

¶ I siȝe, y sobbe, boþe day & nyȝt, For oon þat is so fair of hue; Þere is no þing myn herte may liȝt But his loue þat is so true. Line 232 ¶ Who so hadde him in his siȝte, Or in his herte him knewe, His moornynge schulde turne into ioie briȝt, His longynge into glewe. Line 236

¶ In mirþe lyueþ he nyȝt & day Þat loueþ þat sweete childe; Wraþþe wolde from him awey, Were he neuere so wielde. Line 240 ¶ It is ihesu, forsoþe to say, [page 101] Of alle meekist & myelde; He þat in herte him loueþ þat day, From yuel he wole him schielde. Line 244

¶ Of ihesu Þanne moost list me speke, Þat may of al my bale be bote; Me þinkeþ myn herte wole al to-breke Whanne y þinke on þat soote. Line 248

Line 248 ¶ In loue lauȝt he haþ my þouȝt, Þat y schal neuere for-lete; Ful dere me þinkeþ he haþ me bouȝt, Wiþ bloodi heed, hondis, & feete. Line 252

¶ For loue myn herte wole to-berste Whanne y þat fair loue biholde; Loue is ful fair þere it is fest, Þat neuere wole be coolde. Line 256 ¶ Loue us reueþ þe nyȝtis rest; In grace it makiþ us boolde; Of alle werkis loue is þe beeste, As holi men me haþ tolde. Line 260

¶ No wondir if y siȝhande be, And siþen in woo al bi-sett; Ihesu was nailid upon þe tree; Ȝhe, al bloody for-beet. Line 264 ¶ To þinke on him is greet pitee, To se how tenderli he gret; Þis haþ he suffride, man, for þee, [page 102] If þat þou wolt þi synnes leett. Line 268

¶ Þere is no lijf in erþe may telle Of þis loue þe swetnes: Þat stidefastli in loue can dwelle, His ioie is euere eendelees. Line 272 ¶ God schielde þat he schulde to helle, Þat of loue longinge kan not ceesse, Or euere hise enemyes schulde him qwelle, Or þat he so his loue schulde lese. Line 276

¶ Ihesu is þe loue þat lastiþ ay, To him is oure longinge. Ihesu þe nyȝt turneþ to day, And derknes in-to day spryng. Line 280

Line 280 ¶ Ihesu! þinke on us now and ay, For þee we holde oure kyng! Ihesu, ȝeue us grace þat weel may, To loue þe with oute eendynge!— [["The good wijf," printed in The Babees Book, &c., follows.]] Line 284

A-M-E-N.

Se what oure Lord Suffride for oure Sake.

[Pages 117-120, written without breaks.]

BOthe ȝonge & oolde, wheþir ȝe be, in cristis name good cheer ȝe make, and liftiþ up ȝoure hertis, & se What oure lord suffride for oure sake. Line 4 as meeke as ony lombe was he, ensaumple of him weel mowe we take, & to suffre also in oure degre, & in his seruice euere to wake. Line 8

And if oure freendis forsake us heere so þat we be left al aloone, Þinke on ihesus þat bouȝt us dere, & to him make we al oure moone; Line 12 ¶ For of þat lord weel may we leere What wrong he suffride among hise foon; Whanne hise disciplis fledden for feer, Þer bood no mo but marie & iohne. Line 16

If ony wrong to us be wrouȝt, Be it in word eiþer in dede, Be of good hope ȝit in þi þouȝt How god may us helpe alle at neede, [page 118] Line 20 And þinke we how ihesus crist us bouȝt, & for oure synnis hise blood wolde blede; for his owne gilt was it nouȝt, for he dide neuere synful dede. Line 24

Line 24

¶ If wickid men do us defame, þinke how crist was bouȝt & solde; to suffre for him is no schame, but him to serue loke we be boold. Line 28 And if men hurte us in oure name, We must forȝeue, boþe ȝonge & olde, For þouȝ we suffre myche blame, crist suffride moore a þousand foold. Line 32

And of pouert þouȝ we wolde playne, for þat we wanten worldli good, Þinke we on ihesu, þat lord souereyn, how pore he heng upon þe roode, Line 36 ¶ And how he stryued not ageyn, but euere was meeke & mylde of mood. to folewe þat lord we schulden be fayn, in what degre þat euere we stood. Line 40

& þouȝ we haue sorowe on ech side, & al aboute wrong & woo, Ȝit suffre meekeli, & a-bide, And þinke on ihesu þat suffride also, [page 119] Line 44 and how he was in ful greet drede, Vnto hise peynis whanne he schulde go; he suffride moore in hise manhede Þan euere dide man, or euere schal do. Line 48

¶ Þouȝ we with wrong to deeþ be brouȝt, ȝit suffraunce is a sikir way For þe loue of ihesu þat us dere bouȝt & deide for us on good friday; Line 52 Wherfore us þinkiþ in oure þouȝt Þat we oure lord schulde please & pay, And we to sette þis world at nouȝt, And suffre we wickid men to say. Line 56

In ihesu crist was meekenes moost, And þerfore he þe maistrie hadde,

And boond þe feend for al his boost Þat he was neuere so sore adradde. Line 60 ¶ Al aȝens his wil & al his oost Adam & eue with him he ladde, And many moo out of þat coost þat weren in prisoun ful hard bistadde. Line 64

And if þou in ihesu haue delite, Þouȝ al þe world do þee assaile, Do aftir þis, & þou schalt wite Þat meekenes [page 120] Wole þee moost availe; Line 68 For who þat suffriþ heere dispite, And meekeli a-bidiþ in þat bataile, it wole turne hem to greet profite & eendlees ioie for her trauaile. Line 72

¶ If ony man do to us a mys, Or wole in ony wise to us offende, for þe loue of ihesu haue mynde on þis, & lete meekenes þi mood ameende Line 76 wiþ ihesu crist, as oon of his, And suffre meekeli what god wole sende, þanne schal we be with him in blis þat euereschal laste wiþouten eende. [["How mankinde dooþ bigynne," pp. 58-78 of this Text, follows here.]] Line 80

A-M-E-N.

I wiyte my silf myn owne Woo.

[Lambeth MS. 853, ab. 1430 A.D., page 226-33.]

[I goes to line 7.] IN my ȝonge age ful wielde y was, Mi silf þat tyme cowde y not knowe, Y wolde haue my wil in euery place, And þat haþ now brouȝt me ful lowe. Line 4 Þinke, ihesu, how y am þin owe! For me weere þi sidis boþe pale & bloo! To chastise me þou doist it, y trowe; Y wiyte my silf myne owne woo! Line 8

¶ I made couenaunt, true to be, Firste whanne y baptisid was; Y took to þe world, & wente from þee, Y folewide þe feend al in his traas; Line 12 From wraþþe and enuye wolde y not pas; Coueitise and auarise y usid also, My fleische hadde his wille, alas! Y wiyte my silf myn owne woo! Line 16

¶ Now y woot y was ful wielde, In þat my wil passid my witt; Y was ful sturdy, & þou ful myelde; Ihesu, lord, y knowe weel it. Line 20 Of þi blis y were ful qwytt [page 227] If y hadde aftir þat y haue do; But to þi merci y truste ȝitt, Y wiyte my silf myn owne woo! Line 24

Line 24

¶ I was hiȝ of herte and stowte, And in my cloþing wondre gay; I lokide men schulde vn-to me lowte Where-so þat y wente bi þe wey. Line 28 Faire wommen, and good aray, Al myn entent y took þer-to; Aȝen þi techinge euere y seide nay; I wite my silf myn owne woo! Line 32

¶ I trustide more to worldli good Þan to god þat it me sente; Weelþe made me hiȝ of mood; Lust and likyng me ouer wente. Line 36 To gete good y wolde not stente, Y ne rouȝte how y come þer-to; To þe poore y neiþer ȝaf ne lente; Y wiyte my silf myn owne woo! Line 40

¶ Lord, y hadde no drede of þee; [page 228] Mi grace wente away þerfore; But, lord, as þou bouȝtist me, So lete me neuere be for-lore. Line 44 For me þou suffredist peines sore; Þou art my freend, and y þi foo; Mercy, lord! y wole no more; Y wiyte my silf myn owne woo! Line 48

¶ Þer ben .iij. poyntis of myscheef Þat ben confusioun to many a man, Which þat worchen to her soulis greet greef; Y schal hem rehersen as y can. Line 52 Poore men proud, þat litil han, Þei wolen be a-raied as riche men goo; Þei hindren hem silf & oþir þan, And mowe wiyte hem silf her owne woo. Line 56

¶ A riche man, þeef, is anothir, Þat of coueitise wole not slake;

If he with wrong bigile his broþir, Heuene blis he schal forsake; Line 60 Bifore god, for þeefte it is take, [page 229] Al þat with wrong he wynneþ so; But if he here a-meendis make [[MS. made]] he schal wiyte him silf his owne woo. Line 64

¶ An oolde men lecchour, þe þridde it is, For his complexioun wexiþ coolde; It bringeþ þe soule to peyne from blis, It stinckeþ on god so manye foolde. Line 68 Theise .iij. þat y haue of toold Ben pleasinge to þe feend oure foo; Hem to use, who is so boold, May wiyte him silf his owne woo. Line 72

¶ Manye defautis god may fynde In vs þat schulde hise seruauntis be; He schewith us loue, & we vnkinde, Certis þe more to blame be wee. Line 76 Summe staren broode & moun not se, Synne is þe cause it fariþ soo; Suche dreden not god, y seie to þee, And may wiyte hem silf her owne woo. Line 80

¶ In .iij. þingis y dare weel sayn [page 230] god schulde be worschipide ouer al þing; do riȝtwijsnes with merci with al þi mayn; Þe þridde is cleennesse in lyuynge: Line 84 To bischopis & curatis þat han kepinge, it is her charge, & to lordis also. and if þei contrarie god-is biddinge, þei may wiyte hem silf her owne woo. Line 88

¶ wrong is an hiȝ seete þere riȝt schulde be, merci for mys deede is putt away;

letcherie haþ made clennesse to flee, Loue may not abide nyght ne day. Line 92 Þus þe feend, y dare weel say, wole make oure freend oure moost foo: man, amende þee whilis þou may, Or wiyte þi silf þin owne woo. Line 96

¶ It is no wondir þouȝ y be woo myn owne wil while y wole sewe, & my lordis bidding wole not doo: y am ful fals, but he is trewe, Line 100 And ȝit he fyndiþ me with al þing newe, [page 231] And y serue þe feend, and go him froo; But if y amende, it schal me rewe, And may wiyte my silf myn owne woo. Line 104

¶ In þre degrees þe world kept is, With preestis, knyȝtis, and laborere, And which of hem þat doon amys, Þei schulen it abie wondir deer. Line 108 Bi good ensaumplis þe preestis schuld lere Þe vnleerned how þei schulden doo: If her word & werk coorde not in fere; Þei mowe wite hem silf her owne woo. Line 112

¶ Knyȝthode also, lordis, ne oþir, Schulden not be of conscience light, Þei schulden helpe her poore suster or broþer, And also strengþe hem in her ryght Line 116 Þoruȝ pride & coueitise summe leesen her myȝt; For letcherie, grace is kept hem froo; If þei biholde her owne in-syght, Þei mowe wiyte hem silf her owne woo. Line 120

¶ Þe laborer schulde truly traueile þan, [page 232] And be riȝtful boþe in worde & deede,

And what-euere werkis þat he can, And resonabli to take his meede. Line 124 Wrongfulli summe her lijf heere lede Among leerned & lewde it is founde so, And in her laste eende it is to drede þei mowe wiyte hem silf her owne wo. Line 128

¶ Man, take hede what þou art: But wormes meete! þou woost weel þis; Whanne þat þe erþe haþ take his part, Heuene and helle schal haue his. Line 132 If þou doist weel, þou goist to blis; If þou do yuel, þou goost to þi foo; Loue þi lord god, & þinke on þis, Or þou wite þi silf þin owne woo. Line 136

¶ Now ihesu crist, oure sauyour: From oure foos þou vs defende; In al oure nede be oure socour, Heere & whanne we hens wende, Line 140 And sende us grace so to amende, [page 233] His blisse þat we may come vnto, Heere to make so good an eende Þat wee not cause oure owne woo. Line 144 Deo gracias. [[End of the MS. In a later hand is "This is sir Hary myndes booke, Record [May be Recevd.] of John Dauis, & of sir John George & of Sir Robert george fines"(?).]]

The Virtues of the Name Jesus.

IF þou wole be weel with god, And haue grace [page 88] to reule þi lijf, And come to þe ioie of loue, Þis name ihesu, fastne it so fast in þin herte Þat it come neuere out of þi þouȝt. And whanne þou spekist to him, Line 4 & seist ihesu þoruȝ custum, It schal be in þin eere ioie, And in þi mouþ hony, And in þin herte melo| die, For þou schalt þinke ioie to heere þe name of ihesu be nempned [There is a curl of contraction as for er over the second c.] , [page 89] swetnes to speke it, Myirþe & Line 8 song to þinke on it. If þou þinke on ihesu con| tynueli, And holde it stabli, It purgiþ þi synne, it kyndeliþ þin herte, It clarifieþ þi soule, It remeueþ anger, it doiþ a-way slownes, It wyndiþ in loue Line 12 fulfillid of charite, It chasiþ þe deuel, it puttiþ out drede, It openeþ heuene, it makiþ contemplatijf men haue in mynde ofte ihesu, For alle vicis & fantums it puttiþ fro þe louer. Also þerto heile ofte Line 16 marie boþe day & nyȝt, And þanne myche ioie & loue schalt þou fele. And þou do aftir þis lore, Þe neediþ not greetli coueite many bookis. Holde loue in herte & in werk, And þou hast al þat we may Line 20 seie or write, For fulnes of lawe is charite: In þat hongiþ al.