English metrical homilies from manuscripts of the fourteenth century : with an introduction and notes / by John Small.

In Epiphania Domini secundum Matheum.

Cum natus esset Iesus in Bethleem Iude, in diebus Herodis regis: Ecce magi ab oriente uenerunt Ierosolyman, dicentes; Vbi est qui natus est rex Iudeorum. Vidimus enim stellam eius in oriente. et cetera.

THE tuelft dai fra Cristes birthe Bides cristen men mak joy and mirthe, For Matheu scheues in our godspelle, Quat mensk til Crist als this dai felle. He telles us, hou kinges thre, Com to Jerusalems cyte, And said, the king of Jowes quar es he, That nou es born, him seke we. We saw a stern in our contre, We com wit giftes for to se, And for to worschip him als king, That schewed us sly takening. The king Herod herd this tithand, And was tharsor ful ille likand.

And alle folk of that cyte, Toht ferli of thir kinges thre. The king Herodes cald in hie The Jowes that knew the prophecye, And sperid in quat time, and quat cyte, That Goddes sun suld born be. And thai ansuerd and said, that he Suld be born in that cyte, That Bedleem was cald in lede, And namcouthe born in that thede. Thai schewed the king openlye, That spac of this thing witerlye. Herodes gert calle thir thre kinges, And prayed thaim on alle thinges, That thai suld gern spire efter Crist, And send him word quar was his gist; For I wille, he said, tille him come, And worschip him als worthi gome. And he spired efter that sterne, Quar for thai soht him sa gerne. Quen he riht tim tharof wist, He bad thaim gern spir efter Crist, And said, loc ye wit me to say Quar ye him find, for than I may Com son, and fallen him to bete, And him als king wit worschip gret.

This said Herodes in vaidye, For at Crist hauid he gret enuye. For he was rad that Crist suld cum, And put him out of his kingdom. Forthi wald he wit quar he ware, And him to sla was he ful yare. That was wel sen, quen he gert sla Seuin schor thousand childer and ma, To fand Cristes walk to felle, For imang thaim he wald him quelle. But igain Godd, that es sa wise, Mai noht awail mannes quaintise. Quen Herod hauid said quat he wald, Tille thir thre kinges, that war cald, On wai thai went, and son thai sawe The stern, that thaim the gat gan schawe, Ai til it com euenlye Thar Crist was abowen, and Marye. Thai war ful fain quen thai it sawe, And tille that house gan thai drawe. Thar Crist satte on his moder kne, Redi to kep thair giftes thre. Thir kinges com in menskelie, And knelid bifor Crist in hie, And menskid him wit giftes thre. Als anfald Godd in Trinite.

The first gifte was gold, that isse Richest of alle metal, I wisse, And bitakenis that Crist was king, For king hafs riueli gold in bing. The tother gift that thai gaf Crist, Was rekelis, for wel thai wiste, That rekelis bisend his goddhede, Als now shewes hali kirk indede, For rekeles rekes upward euin, And menskis him that wonis in heuin. The thrid gift thai him tok, Was a smerlis, als sais the boc, That bitter es, and mir is cald, And mai the man fra roting hald Quen he es ded, forthi es sene That thai his dede bi [myrr] wald mene. Thai saw wel, him bihoued dreye Pyn of bodi, and sithen deye. Forthi wit mirr thai schewed thanne, That him bihoued dey als manne. For al bihoues us passe that pase, For dede bathe riche and pouer tase. Quen thir ilc thre rihtwis kinges Hafd ofred to Crist thir thre thinges, A steuin in slep gaf thaim warning, That thai suld lef Herod the king,

And turn ham bi another way In to thair land, and sua did thai. This es the godspel of todai, Als man on Englis telle mai. Her on spekes sayn Gregorie, And sais the Jowes war unseli, That saw ful fel takeninges Of Cristes birth, and hou thir kinges Thar schewed thaim sa openlye Thing that thai saw in prophecy, And bar witnes that Crist war cumen, And hafd man kind opon him numen. And sithen, for al that boc moht sai, Igain Crist said the Jowes ai. The prophecyes knew thai welle, Til thair awen mikel unsele; For thai wald nangat trou that sau, No Jesus for thair Lauerd knawe. Hefen and erthe, and sun and se, Bar witnes that cumen was he, That suld mannes state amend, For heuin and sterne in witnes send, That he was cumen that broht us liht Into this warld, and makid briht The trowthe, that ar was mirk als niht, For thoru Crist, trow we nou riht.

The erthe bar als ful graith witnes Igain the Jowes wrangwisnes, For it schewed with graithe takening, That Crist was Godd of all thing. For writen es in hali boc, That quen Crist deyed the erthe quoc; The sunne bar witnes, for it knew That Crist was Godd, quen it witdrew The bemis, and was mirk als niht, Quen Crist deyed for mannes pliht; The se kneu als Crist goddhede, And was hard quen he tharon yed; And mani ertheli other thing Schewed that Crist was Godd and King; For roches raf als dos the clay, And quic ras rafes that dede laye, That tim that Crist was on rode slain, And yet war Jowes him igain; For wald thai noht thair lesing lette, And said that Crist was fals prophete. For na takening that thai moht se, Wald thai trow that Crist, Godd moht be. Bot haythen folc gan goddhed schaw In Crist, that Jowes wald noht knaw. For als this dai com kinges thre, And bar witnes that born was he,

Of quaim the prophecies was spokin, Bot thai wist noht quare he was lokin; The sted quare he was born thai soht, For of his birth douted thai noht. Thir cumly kinges, als we finde, War cumen of Balaames kind, That lang bifor in prophecye, Spac of this stern apertelye, And of Cristes birth bathe, Quar for the king Balac was wrath. Lang war to telle of that storie That Balaam spac in prophecie. Balam kind was won to wac, And wait this stern of quaim he spac, For thoru his prophecy thai wist, That it suld bring tithand of Crist. Forthi was Balaam kind won To wak, for ilk man bad his son, Quen he war ded, to wak riht gern, And faand yef thai moht se the stern. And mani hondret winters yed, Quil Balaam kin fulfild this ded; For faderes to thair sun kend To wak ai to thair liues end. And on this maner, war thir kinges Gret clerkes thoru niht wakinges,

For thai couthe mikel of that clergi That clerkes kalles astronomi, That spekes of stern, and sun, and mon, And schewes thing that ferr es don. Bot of that stern wille I you telle Quarof to dai spekis our godspelle. Sain Jon wit the gilden mouthe Sais us that this stern was selcouthe, For it no stud noht up on hey, Bot tille thir kinges lan it fley, On feld thar thai woc on yol niht, And tharin sau thai selcouthe siht, A fair child in this stern thai sau, That Cristes birth til thaim gan schau, And bad thaim sek imang the Jowes, A child in quaim es alle uertues. For fain war thai of thir tithandes, And for feir in to Jowes landes, To sek quar Jesus was duelland, And thoru this stern thai him fand. Nou haf ye herd hou thir thre kinges Ofred tille Jesus thre thinges, And thohquether war thai haythen men; For bi thair ded wil Crist us ken, For to mensk him gastelye Wit giftes, als thai did bodilye.

For if we in charite lif, God gastly gold to Godd we gif. For gold bitakenis charite, For na mettal mai better be Than gold, for na thing better isse, Than charite til mar and lesse. For if we haf riht charite, Til thaim that er mar than we, Tille thaim er we sa lele and holde, That our seruis es to thaim golde. For yef we do that thai bid us In god, than folu we Jesus, That tille his fader was bowsom, Quen he intil this werld wald com, And tholed dede on rode tre, To gif ensampel of charite. For charite schewed he than Bathe tille his fader and til man. Til Godd his fader schewed he Riht bousomnes, and charite Til mankind, that he lufd sua, That for man tholid al that wa. Forthi bihoues us ilkan Haf riht luf til our ouer man, And quat god sa he biddes us do, Bousom we au to be him to.

For Cristes bidding we forsac, Yef we prelate bidding noht tac, Als himself bers god witnes, Thar he spekis of bousomnes, For sin him seluen moht noht com Til heuin, but yef he war bowsom, Hou wil we com thar he now es, Bot yef we lif in bousomnes, Ful lang es euer, lang es euer, Bot yef we hon, com we thar neuer. Our Lauerd Crist len us the graz, To folu in bowsomnes thi traz; For charyte tharin we schau That we til our prelates au. And noht allan til thaim au we To haf riht luf and charite, Bot bathe tille brother and felau, For thaim we au to til and drau Wit god ensampil til godnes, And snibbe thaim for unbowsomnes, And yef thai of our help haf nede, We aw to help thaim with our dede, And yef thai do misse igain us, Forgif we thaim als did Jesus, For he hafd charite inoh, Quen he forgaf him that him sloh,

And asked thaim forgifnes, To scheu us quat charite es. For als he did, bihoues us do, For elles cum we noht him to. That es at sai, bot we forgif Leth, and wreth, quil we her lif, We mai noht com thar now es he, For thider ledes charite. Yef we than in charite lif, God gastli gold tille Crist we gif. For charite in boc es cald Gastly gold, als I you tald. Nou haf ye herd wel apertie, Quat gold bitakenes gastilye, For gold was the first thing That kinges gaf til Crist our king. The tother gift, als I ar said, Er rekeles that on fir er laid, And gifs smek that smelles wele, And fer men mai the smek fele; And sua dos cresten man praier, That es to Crist ful lef and der, Yef it be laid opon the fire, It slakes Goddes wrec and ire. This fir calle I charite, That brinnand in us au to be.

It clenses man of sinful lust, Als fire clenses iren of rust. Opon this fir au we to lai Gastli recles, that es at sai, God praier, that ful suet smelles, And Goddes wreth swages and felles, And geres him grant man his bon, Haf he neuer sli sin don. The thred gift, als I you tald, Was mirre, that mannes fles mai hald Abowen erthe fra roting, And es of penanz graith takening. Bot mirre bites, als I said are, And penanz bites man ful sare, Bot ai the sarer that it bites, The clener of sin the man it quites. This filth cal I roting of sin, That geres the sawel rot wit in. This mirr haldes us fra roting, That es, fra lust and fra liking. Nou haf ye herd of gold gastelye, And als of rekeles apertelie, And als of mirr, the thrid thing, Quarof man mas gasteli offering. Do we forthi, als did thir kinges, And mensk we Crist wit thir thre thinges.

Bot folu we first the stern, that ledes God men til mirthful medes. This stern cal I Godes worde, That precheour bringes out of horde, That kennes man the riht wai Until that joi that lastes ai. Our Lauerd Jesus Crist us rede To do penanz, and thider us lede.

Amen.