þe angel come to hir fra heuyn
And said to hir with milde steuyn:
Hail be þou Mari, maiden fre,
Ful of grace, god es with þe!
þou ert blisced in wemen all,
All folk to þe sal socoure call,
And fruit þat of þi wambe sal wende
Sal be blisced withowten ende.
When Mari herd, how þat he saide,
Within hir hert scho wex afraide.
Sho had meruaile, what thing it ment
þat þe angel so to hir was sent,
And in hir hert scho had grete thoght,
Thurgh his wordes what suld be wroght.
þan said þe angel milde of mode
To þe mayden þat so stodiand stode:
Mari, he said, ne drede þe noght,
Of þis bodworde I haue þe broght.
Grace hastow funden in al thing
Onence my lorde of heuyn king.
þou sal consaiue and bere a childe,
And flessheli saltou noght be filde;
A sun þou sal consaiue and bere,
þi maidenhed it sal noght dere;
Jesus sal þou þi sun call,
And sal be sauioure of all;
Heghest goddes sun he sal be cald,
And mighti god sun men sal him hald.
Oure lorde god of graces grete
Thurgh mightes sal him gif þe sete [fol. 6b]
Of his fader, þe king Dauid,
To gouern his regne in pese and grith
And regne he sal, moste king to neuyn,
Wirshipt of all angels of heuyn;
In mekil might ay sal he lend
In Jacob house withowten end;
Regne he sal in rest and pese,
His regne sothli sal neuer sese,
þan saide Mari with milde mode
Vnto þe angel, þare he stode: