Twenty-six political and other poems (including 'Petty Job') from the Oxford mss. Digby 102 and Douce 322. Ed., with introduction and glossarial index, by D. J. Kail ...

VII. Man, know thy self, and lerne to dye.

[Digby 102, leaf 104, back.] [15 stanzas of 8, abab, bcbc.]

(1)

Mannys soule is sotyl and queynt, Shal neuere ende þouȝ he dede gynne. The flesch is fals[e], frele, and feynt, Þe world alone wolde wynne; Line 4 Is wormes mete, and sek of synne; He nys neuere filt of glotonye; His cloþyng is a dedly skynne. Man, knowe þy self, and lerne to dye! Line 8

(2)

¶ Lerne to dye, and go to skole, Siþ þou fro deþ may not fle. Lete not þy werkys preue þe fool. Whan deþ wole assaile þe, Line 12 Sende warnestor to þy soule to be; Þy vices fro þy vertues triȝe. Ȝe sette ȝoure soule in kynges gre, Þat lerneþ wisely for to diȝe. Line 16

Line 16

(3)

¶ Eche man in certayn is to dye, At domesday stonde in drede. Þere al þe worldis tresorye May not bye [folio 105a] thy lyf for mede, Line 20 No wys counseil þat dede þe lede, Ne glosere wiþ his flaterye; Non may helpe oþer at nede: ffor thy, man, wysely lerne to dye. Line 24

(4)

¶ What may thy richesse þe auayle [[nota]] Whan þou art to deþe dryue? Thy wynd is layd, þou mayst not sayle, Þouȝ þou lete out bonet and ryue. Line 28 Loke to vertues þou þe ȝyue Er tombe be held to þe liȝe; ffor he þat gostly wel doþ lyue, He lerneþ wysely for to diȝe. Line 32

(5)

¶ Two skilles y wole telle Why eche man shuld repreue oþeres synne: And he wyst hym self shuld go to helle, Counseyle no mo to come þer-ynne: Line 36 Þe mo brondes, þe hattere brynne, Incresyng of his maladye; Here nys no charite, ȝut shal he wynne To lasse his pyne after he dye. Line 40

(6)

¶ And ȝif he wiste to heuene to go, His soule be saued in sikirnes, He shulde counseile all folk do so, Saue here soules, and do not mys; Line 44 Nouȝt for here profyt, but al for his, His owen ioye for to hyȝe; Þe mo soules, þe more blis. Þenk here-on, and lerne to dyȝe. Line 48

Line 48

(7)

¶ Thy wikked werkis in þy ȝowthe, Seke hem wel tyll þou hem fynde, And al þy tyme riȝt til nowþe; Loke þat fardel þou vnbynde, Line 52 And shewe it wel wiþ shrift wynde; No fende spot vppon the spyȝe; And haue repentaunce in mynde. On þis manere lerne to dyȝe. Line 56

(8)

¶ While man doþ synne in werkis wylde, Al þat tyme he nys but ded; He nys not counted as fool ne childe, But as a man can good and qued. Line 60 ffor his soule he telyeþ no bred; Here landis of vertue laye don lyȝe. Do comaundementis þat god bed, Þan lernest þou wysely to dyȝe. Line 64

(9)

¶ Pore, nedy, and gredy, þat not ne haue, In goddis name ȝeue þat asken ouȝt. Pore, nedy, and not gredy, þat noȝt ne craue, Ȝeue hem þouȝ þey ne aske nouȝt. Line 68 And nedeles gredy þyn almes souȝt, Ȝeue hem no þyng þouȝ þey crye: Þere nys no nede, ȝifte haþ no mede. Suche almesdede mon neuere dye. Line 72

(10)

¶ What argument may beter preue Why men ben bent to don o mys? Not but defaute of byleue. I trowe þey wene no god þer nys, Line 76 Ne helle pyne ne heuene blys, Paradis ne purgatorie, Or elles, a-noþer heresy þere is, As a best wiþoute soule to die. Line 80

Line 80

(11)

¶ Man, of his owen, nouȝten haue; Al is goddis, and he it lent. Þerof god wole rekenyng craue, How þou it wan, held, and spent; Line 84 Þy leste þouȝt, and what it ment; Trouþe, [folio 105b] and lesyng þou dede liȝe; And ȝet þy soule is goddis rent: So quyte þat wel, lerne to diȝe. Line 88

(12)

¶ Whanne þou dest þyn almesdede, Crie god mercie it is so lite. To counte þy richesse þou myȝt haue drede, In partye of payment so litel quyte. Line 92 Þouȝ þou do mys, god nyl not flyte Ne þrete þe ones ne twyȝe; Body and soule he can smyte. Man, drede god, so lerne to dyȝe. Line 96

(13)

¶ Man, synne not in ouerhope, Þou wynnest not goddis mercy wiþ fiȝt; Hit wolde brynge þe in-to wanhope, To wene no mercy þou haue ne myȝt. Line 100 Goddis mercy is medled wiþ his ryȝt, And fro ryȝt, god nyl not plyȝe; After þe dede, þe doom is dyȝt. Man, knowe þis wile er þou dyȝe. Line 104

(14)

¶ Eche dedly synne is a dedly knyf. Why loue men þanne so ofte to synne? Eche vertue is a plastre of lyf. He haþ fre wille; lese, or wynne. Line 108 To salue ȝoure sores now begynne; Þe holigost ȝoure grace gyȝe. Siþ body and soule mon parte o twynne, To saue þy soule, lerne to dyȝe. Line 112

Line 112

(15)

¶ Truste not al to oþere men, In almes dede ne preyere; ffor state of soule can no man kenne, ffor þey ben alle in goddis daungere, Line 116 In helle pyne, or blisse clere. Repentaunce mot mercy byȝe. While þy dede is in þy powere, Be þyn awen frend er þou dyȝe. Line 120