A Paraphrase on the Seven Penitential Psalms in English Verse : 'Hic incipiunt septem Psalmi penitenciales de Latino translati in Anglicum' [Percy Society Publications 7 (1842)]
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Title
A Paraphrase on the Seven Penitential Psalms in English Verse : 'Hic incipiunt septem Psalmi penitenciales de Latino translati in Anglicum' [Percy Society Publications 7 (1842)]
Author
Brampton, Thomas, Black, W. H.
Publication
London :: Printed for the Percy Society by C. Richards,
1840-1852.
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"A Paraphrase on the Seven Penitential Psalms in English Verse : 'Hic incipiunt septem Psalmi penitenciales de Latino translati in Anglicum' [Percy Society Publications 7 (1842)]." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/CME00017. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 29, 2025.
Pages
I.
IN wynter, whan the wedir was cold,I ros at mydnyȝt fro my rest,And prayed to Jesu that he wold,Be myn helpe, for he myȝt best.In myn herte anon I kestHow I had synned, and what degré:I cryëd, knockyng up on my brest,"Ne reminiscaris, Domine!"
II.
Ne reminiscaris, Domine, delicta nostra, vel pa∣rentum nostorum; neque vindictam sumas de pec∣catis nostris. Parce, Domine, parce populo tuo, quem redemisti precioso sanguine tuo; et ne ineternum irascaris nobis; et ne des hereditatem tuam in per∣dicionem.
That is to seye, "Lord! thynke no more"Of my mysdedis that I have wrought,
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"I or my faderys here be fore,"That me in to this world have brought."Of my mysdedys venge thé nought:"But graunte me mercy and pyté."My woordys, my werkys, and wycked thought,"'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'
III.
"Spare thy peple that is outerage,"We crye to the ful pytously;"Lese noȝt lyȝtly thyn herytage,"That thou hast lovyd so hertily."Have mynde, Lord, how thou woldyst dy,"And hange ful hye up on a tre,"To save hym that wolde wilfully"Sey, 'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'"
IV.
With sorwefull herte and repentaunce,Un to my Confessour I ȝede,To schryve me clene and aske penaunce;Ther to me thouȝte I hadde gret nede.Myn herte for sorwe began to blede,And cowthe non other coumfort se,For wyl, and woord, and wicked dede,But 'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'
V.
My Confessour coumfortyd me blyve,And seyde, "Thi synnes forȝevyn are,"Zyf thou purpose to amende thi lyve,"God of his mercy will thé spare.
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"No synful man he wille forfare,"That sory of his synnes wylle be:"This woord schal coumforte all thi kare,"'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'
VI.
"And ferthermore, for thi trespace,"That thou hast don to God of hevene,"Zif God wille sende thé lyif and space,—"Thou shalt seyn thisĕ Psalmĕs sevene:"The bettyr with God thou mayst ben evene,"Or evere thi soulĕ passe fro thé."Begynne, and seye with myldĕ stevene,"'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'"
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