The þeuës gult, hit was forȝyue
On rodë wher his bonës breke.
A contryt hert, & clene yschryue,
Saueþ soule & body eke.
Line 72
(10) Auerte faciem tuam a peccatis meis: et omnes iniquitates meas dele.
Fro my synnës turne þi face,
Do al my wickidnesse a-way!
Grete is my gult, gretter is þi [my alterd to þi.] grace, [folio 98b]
And ellis, faileþ al oure fay.
Line 76
And fawtës fele þat me doþ face,
Makeþ þat I may noȝt say,
But crie mercy when I trespace;
I-wis I wote no better way.
Line 80
(11) Cor mundum crea in me deus: & spiritum rectum innoua in uisceribus meis.
God! make þou myn hert[ë] clene,
And a riȝtful spirit in me newe;
Fro seuene synnes þou make me schene,
That where þou go, I may þee seewe.
Line 84
Al þi turment and þi tene,
Thi bodi blacke, þi bonës blewe,—
Now, graunt, cryst, þat it be sene
In myn hert, þat hidowes hewe.
Line 88
(12) NE proicias me a facie tua: & spiritum sanctum tuum ne auferas a me.
Cast me nouȝt fro þi visage,
Take noȝt fro me þine holigost!
To byholde þi faire ymage,
Of allë murþës hit is most.
Line 92
A blisful bryd was born in cage,
Cowþe ykid in euery cost,
