As I wandrede her bi weste

ffaste vnder a forest syde,

I seiȝ a wiht went him to reste,

Vnder a bouȝh he gon a-byde;

Þus to crist ful ȝeor[n]e he criȝede,

And boþe his hondes he held on heiȝ:

"Of pouert, plesaunce & eke of pruide.

Ay, Merci, God, And graunt-Merci.*. [I take Merci to be used in this poem in the twofold sense of Mercy and Thanks.]

¶ God, þat I haue I-greuet þe

In wille & werk, in word and dede,

Almihti lord, haue Merci of me

Þat for my sunnes þi blod gon schede!

Of wit & worschupe, weole & wede

I þonke þe, lord, ful Inwardly;

Al in þis world, hou euere I spede,

Ay Merci, god, And graunt Merci.

¶ Graunt Merci, god, of al þi ȝifte,

Of wit & worschupe, weole & wo;

In to þe, lord, myn herte I lifte,

Let neuer my dedes twynne. vs a-two.

Merci þat I haue mis do,

And sle me nouȝt sodeynly!

Þouȝ ffortune wolde be frend or fo,

Ay Merci, God, And graunt Merci. Page  697

¶ I am vnkuynde, and þat I knowe,

And þou hast kud me gret kuyndenes;

Þerfore wiþ humbel herte and lowe,

Merci and for-ȝiuenes

Of Pruyde and of vnboxumnes!

What eueri sonde be, þus sey I,

In hap and hele, and in seknes,

Ay Merci, god, And graunt Merci.

¶ Graunt Merci, God, of al þi grace,

Þat fourmed me wiþ wittes fyue,

Wiþ ffeet and hond, & eke of face

And lyflode, whil I am alyue.

Siþen þou hast ȝiue me grace to þryue,

And I haue Ruled me Rechelesly,

I weore to blame, and I wolde striue,

But Merci, God, And Graunt Merci.

¶ Merci þat I haue mis-spent

Mi wittes fyue! þerfore I wepe;

To dedly synnes ofte haue I asent,

Þi Comaundemens couþe I neuer kepe;

To sle my soule In sunne I slepe,

And lede my lyf in Lecheri,

ffrom Couetyse couþe I neuere crepe;

Ay Merci, God, And Graunt Merci.

¶ Of oþes grete and Gloteny,

Of wanhope and of wikked wille:

Bacbyte my neiȝhebors for enuy,

And for his good I wolde him culle;

Trewe men to Robbe and spille,

Of Symony and with surquidri;

Of al þat euere I haue don ille,

Ay Merci, God, And graunt Merci.

¶ Bi lawe I scholde no lengor liue

Þen I hedde don a dedly synne; Page  698

Graunt Merci þat ȝe wolde forgiue,

And ȝeue me space to mende me Inne!

ffrom wikked dedes & I wolde twynne,

To Receyue me ȝe beo redi

In-to þi blisse þat neuer schal blynne.

Nou Merci, God, And graunt Merci.

¶ Graunt Merci, for þou madest me,

Merci, for I haue don a-Mis;

Min hope, Min help is hol in þe,

And þou hast ȝore bi-heiht me þis:

Whos euere is Baptiȝed schal haue Blis,

And he Rule him Rihtwysli.

To worche þi wille, lord, þou me wis!

Nou Merci, God, And graunt Merci.

¶ Soþfast god, what schal I say,

how schulde I amendes make,

Þat plesed þe neuere in-to þis day

Ne schop me nouȝt mi sunnes forsake?

But schrift of mouþe mi sunnus schal slake,

And I schal sece and beo sori,

And to þi Merci I me take.

Nou Merci, God, [And] Graunt Merci.

¶ ffader & sone and holigost,

Graunt Merci, God, wiþ herte liht,

ffor þou woldest not þat I weore lost.

Þe ffader haþ ȝiuen me a miht,

Þe sone a science and a siht

And wit to welde me worschupely,

Þe Holigost vr grace haþ diht.

Nou Merci, God, And graunt Merci.

¶ Þis is þe Trone þat twynned neuere,

And preued is persones þre,

Þat is and was and schal ben euere,

Only God in Trinite; Page  699

help vs, Prince of alle pite,

Atte day þat we schal dy,

Þi swete face þat we may se.

Nou Merci, God, And Graunt Merci.