Lydgatiana / [ed. H. N. MacCracken].

Lydgatiana.

V. Fourteen short religious poems.

• 1. Hoc Factum Est a Domino.
• 2. A Prayer to Christ's Name.
• 3. Haue Mercy on me!
• 4. Salve Regina!
• 5. All Hayle, Mary!
• 6. Prayers to Mary and the Saints.
• 7. Lenvoy to Mary.
• 8. Regina Celi Letare.
• 9. The Five Joys of the Virgin.
• 10. Maria Virgo Assumpta Est!
• 11. An Acrostic on Maria.
• 12. John Marion's ABC to the Virgin.
• 13. An ABC to the Virgin, from a Leyden MS.
• 14. O Flos Pulcherrime!

The present instalment of fifteenth-century poems, written under apparent Lydgatian influence, contains some pieces of interest. The first of these, Hoc Factum est a Domino, rehearses an amusing list of typical scholastic questions, the answers to which are even now matters of debate. The mediaeval poet, however, bids man 'hoo' in such matters, and meekly turn to his creed. Why is pesti∣lence? Where was God ere there was aught? Why hath not every man alike? How did Henry V win Agincourt? Why did Duke Philip of Burgundy flee from Calais, and the Scots from Roxburghe (1436)? To all this there is but one answer, Hoc Factum est a Domino.

Of the poems which follow, the prayer to Christ's Name be∣longs with part I of Lydgate's Testament, in its adoration of the Sacred Name. The macaronic Salve Regina has many com∣panions in the century, closest of which in comparison is perhaps the Monk's Te Deum. The Prayers to Mary and the Saints, how∣ever, in rhythm and style are even closer to Lydgate's litany.

The Lenvoy and the three following poems, of unequal merit, resemble his Valentine and his Ballade in Commendation. One of them, the Regina Celi, has the same line, stanza, and refrain as the monk's piece of the same name; while all these pieces imitate more or less clearly the school of the Quia Amore Langueo. The Acrostic on Maria recalls the triple acrostic on the same name in Lydgate's poem Ave Jesse Virgula.

Of all these poems the authors are anonymous; though The Five Joys is ascribed by John Shirley in his Ashmole MS. 59 to 'an holy ankaresse of Mansfeld'. The only signed poem is John Marion's ABC to the Virgin, which is here printed with a com∣panion-piece of the same type. Both no doubt are due to Chau∣cer's ABC, the opening lines of which are unblushingly employed

by Marion. But the feeble literary quality of the imitations makes one credit the theory that Chaucer's ABC came to them by way of Lydgate's Pilgrimage, in which, as is well known, his master's poem was inserted, like a gem in a ring.

'The ruby stant, so royol of renoun, Withinne a ryng of copur or latoun.'

The fourteenth poem is a rhapsody upon the Virgin, unequalled perhaps in the century. No sonnet-sequence of the '90s in Eliza∣beth's time could anatomize the lady of the poet's love more zest∣fully than this unknown waif of the mid-fifteenth century, preser∣ved in Thornton's manuscript. It is a far cry from the Love Rune to this debased style; and, like the closing of the theaters in 1642, one feels that a ban upon such poems would have been a benefit, rather than a restraint, to the poetry of Henry VI's day.

1. Hoc Factum Est a Domino.

(From MS. Harley 2251, fols. 29-30.)

O man, thow marrest in thy mynd To muse how God hath marked and made And althyng sette in his owne kynde, And how long tyme therto he hadde,— How day hath light and nyght hath shade, [ 5] To muse on this matier, I rede the hoo; It is Inough thi gost for to glade, Hoc factum est a domino.

How Angelis in theyre Ierarchies Disteyned be in ordris nyne, [ 10] And how these hevenly Armonyes, How fressh and how newe euer they bene, Lucifer, that was so sheene, For pride, he put hym to endles woo; Man, muse nat theron, but kepe the clene, [ 15] Hoc factum est a domino.

Whan Lucyfer was put to payne, And his felawes, why God made man, For he shuld fulfille the nombre agayne? What nede Adam to trespas than? [ 20] Sith God knew alle, or he began, What wedyr and wynde, what it shuld do? The best answer that I can Hoc factum est a domino.

Who made Iacob and Esau [ 25] In theyre moders wombe for to debate? Why wold Ioseph his dreames show To make his brethern hym to hate? Who fedde v. thousand desolate With lovis v. and fisshes twoo? [ 30] Man, in this mater the nedis nat be mate, Hoc factum est a domino.

Whi of contrary elementis [fol. 29vo] Is made euery creature In sundry wise, and lygamentis, [ 35] Eche thyng wrought in dyuerse nature, By right nombre and evyn mesure? God hath made both wele and woo, Som for to be sadde and som vnsure Hoc factum est a domino. [ 40]

Whi are nat al sterris mevand like, For som ben fixed and sette in hevene? Som man wise and som man frantike, Som blynd born, som halt, som even? In erthely thynges planetis seven [ 45] Hath Influence; sith it is so, Man, of these dowtis the nedis nat mevyn, Hoc factum est a domino.

Why wil fortune that som man is riche, And som man right poore? and whi is pestilence? [ 50] Whi hath nat eueryman I-liche? Whi is corne brent by grete violence? Whi were these two citees thurgh the peples offence. Sodom and Gomor, distroyed both two? Man, in this matier to yive a general sentence, [ 55] Hoc factum est a domino.

Whi dide Loth his wif, thurgh disobeisaunce, Retourne sodainly in-to a salt stone? Kyng Pharao drowned thurgh vengeaunce, And Moyses thurgh the see is gone? [ 60] Kyng Dauid made grete Goly to grone And slough hym for his mortal foo? Who dide al this? answere me anone, Hoc factum est a domino.

How gate oure kyng the victory [ 65] At Agyncourt with a smal puissaunce? Who made Prynce Phelyp to flee From Calice, with anger and myschaunce? [fol. 30] Who wrought this worthy purviaunce The Scottis from Rokisburgh to go? [ 70] Man, answere me without tariaunce, Hoc factum est a domino.

Why wolde Goddes sone, in divyne Born of a mayde mylde of moode, He may as wele make brede and wyne [ 75] To turne in-to his flessh and to his bloode? [These two lines struck through by some later Protestant hand.] His manhod dyed vpon the roode, His god lyved and dide nat so; Man, to bylieve this, I hold it goode, Hoc factum est a domino. [ 80]

What was, or the world was wrought? And what was it in length and brede? Wher was God or ther was ought? What was the erth, who can rede?

To muse on this matir, it is no nede, [ 85] Whos are the Rose in Iericho? As God wold, he sew that sede, Hoc factum est a domino.

But if thow canst nat indede With Goddis myght the wittes accorde, [ 90] Commende the mekely vnto thy crede, Serche neuer the secretis of thy lorde; For with thyne entent that may discorde Of thise poyntis rehersed, and many one mo; It is ynough, the for to recorde, [ 95] Hoc factum est a domino.

2. A Prayer to Christ's Name.

(From MS. Univ. Lib. Camb. If. 1. 6, folio 124vo.)

O Cryste Jesu, mekely I pray to the To lete thy name, wedyr y ryde or gone, In euery parell & ech [in euery MS.] aduersite Be my defence a-ȝenste my mortall [nortall MS. (sic!)] fone, To make them stonde styll as eny stone, [ 5] And [thay] [out MS.] that casten me falsly to werray Make thow her malyce [humbly] [out MS.] to obey.

[Un]to thi name, & make hem stonde a-back, Or thay haue pour to yoy her cruel myght, And wicked spretes so oryble & blake, [ 10] That besy ben to wayte me day & nyghte, Let thi name dryue hem owte of syghte, And in my fored when I Jesu empresse, Make me [inserted in MS.] of grace theyr malyce to oppresse.

For to þi name hoolly y me commende, [ 15] My lyf [and] [out MS.] deth, my body, herte & all, My sowle al-so when I hense wende— O Cryste Jesu, o lorde ynmortall— Praying to the, when thow me deme schall That thow me saue from eternall schame [ 20] That haue full feyth [feght MS.] & holl truste in þi name.

Explicit.

3. Haue Mercy on me!

(From MS. Univ. Lib. Camb. Kk. 1. 6, folio 197.)

Almyȝti God, maker of Heuene, Erthe and Eyre, Watur and Wynde, To þe I calle with mylde steuene, That flesche and blode tokyste of mankynde, Out of synne my sowle vnbynde, [ 5] That for me deydiste apon a tree; To rekene y am ful fer behynde, But Iesu þy grace, and haue mercy on me.

For yff y scholde ryȝtwyse rekenyng make Fro þat tyme þat y was bore, [ 10]

Then woldest þou vengeaunce take, Than were y loste for euermore; Thow haste ordeyned salue for euery sore, [fol. 197vo] And mercy sowles leche to bee. That þou haste bouȝte lette neuer be lore, [ 15] Where Iesu haue mercy on me.

For without þe no man hath myȝt, Pore ne ryche, lough ne hygh;— Thenke now þou haste mercy behyȝt To all tho þat aske hit mekelygh. [ 20] With woful herte and wepyng ye I ȝilde me, lorde, now thus to the, And for my mysdedes merci I crye, That lord Iesu, þou haue mercy on me.

Mercy for þy comaundement [ 25] That I haue ofte-tymes y-broke, And in þy seruyse be neclygent And mony a wylde word haue spooke. What were to þe to ben a-wrooke On hym þat may noþer fyȝt ne flee? [ 30] Lette neuer thyn Eris fro me be loke, But euer, good Iesu, haue merci on me.

Now merci, I am in wyll no more From hennes-forth to do trespase. Now mercy, lord, I be not lore, [ 35] But part with me al of þy grace, That I may se þy swete fface, As þou art God in trynite, In Heuene þer to haue a place, Wher, Iesu, þou haue mercy on me. Amen. [ 40]

Here enduth þis preyere to our lord Iesu.

4. Salve Regina.

(From MS. Bodl. Rawl. C. 48, folio 135.)

Salue, wyth all obaysans to God in humblesse, Regina, to regne euermore in blys. Mater to Cryst as we beleue expres, Misericordie vnto all wrecchys; Vita to quekyn to helpe leall and les, [ 5] Dulcedo off most plesant bewte. And we sey þis lond þi dowayr ys, And þerfor we sey et spes nostra salve.

Ad te, most meke and most benyng virgyn, Clamamus lowd with voys tymorows, [ 10] Exules made by false frawde serpentyne, Fylij freyll, carefull, and dolorows, Ecce þerefor our lyfe labarows, Ad te, best mene to owre lord God and man, Suspyramus here in þis se trybolous, [ 15] Venientes as sorofully as we can.

Et flentes oft, with bytter terys smert, In hac dolfull, paynfull, and lamentable

Lacrimarum wowndyng þe mortall hert Valle, restles, grevous and chaun[g]abyll, [ 20] Et Ergo, Marya most amiable, Aduocata, nostra, our medyatryce, Illos tuos bryghtest and confortabyll, Myserycordes oculos full off ioy off paradyse,

Ad nos, fletyng in thys se off torment, [ 25] Conuerte now of thy souerayn pete Et Iesum þur lord, prynce omnipotent, Benedictum full of most hy bewte, Fructum off lyffe and ryght benygnite, Ventris tui most euerous creature, [ 30] Nobis post hoc exilium ostende, To oure eterne grettest Ioy and plesure.

5. All Hayle Mary.

(From MS. B. M. Adds. 34 360, leaf 60 and back.)

All hayle, Mary, ful of grace, Oure lord of hevene is with the. His mansyoun in the made he has, Also of the borne shal he be. His glorious body shaltow see [ 5] Naked lyeng in an ox-stalle, And til hym present shal kynges thre Golde, Mirre, and Incense Royal.

Blissed be thow amonge wymmen all, Thow shalt be mayde, moder, and wyf; [ 10] All cristen men so the shal calle, For thow shalt bere the fruyt of lyf. That blissed chield shal breke the stryf Betwene the devil and al mankynd; Man shal he bryng from al myschief [ 15] The wey to hevene than shal he fynde.

Seynt Anne, thy moder, ful blissed is she, For she the bore by myracle divyne. An aungel hyr warned, sent fro Trinite, The fruyt of hyr shuld right ferre shyne, [ 20] For to sconfite the snake serpentyne, Whiche of manhod had domynacioun * * * * * Man shuld be delyuerd from al tribulacioun. O Mary, Moder of al consolacioun, [ 25] Nempned so thow were, thaungel bare witnesse. Of Anne thow were delyuerd, a grete confortacioun For man, to brynge hym out of distresse, Bothe pure and clene, set in al holynesse, Iesu thy sone, hym lyked wele thy gouernaunce, [ 30] [fol. 60vo] Replenysshed were thow with vertu of mekenesse, Of thy pappis sowked he for our sustinaunce.

Whan hym lyked, he made purviaunce Mankynd for to bryng vnto saluacioun, For of man he had a goode Remembraunce. [ 35] To suffre deth, that was his conuersacioun;

Of his peynes he made a demonstracioun Whanne he tolde his aposteles of his peynes sore. To save mankynd, that was his entencioun, Ellis al the world had be forlore. [ 40]

Thow wrecchid man, leve thy pride, [Nota.] And thynk from erth that thow came. Here thow mayst nat long abyde, Bowe thy knees, spare for no shame. Whanne thow herist Iesus, oure lordis name, [ 45] Wele art thow bounde so for to do, Sith Aungelis and devils knele therto. [Nota bene.]

6. Prayers to Mary and the Saints.

(MS. B. M. Arundel 249, fols. 6-7.)

Mercyful Quene, as ye best kan and may, [leaf 6, back] After your sone, of wreches take pyte, Send your confort nowe on your blessed day To sory folke in gret aduersite. Make me to fele your swete benyngnyte, [ 5] Sterre of þe see, as botefull ys your name; Behold me now in your hye mageste, Most swete Lady, an[d] deffend me fro schame.

Moder of God, virgyne most meke and pure, With entier hert y pray you deuoutly [ 10] Take in your hond and in your blessed cure This dradd voyage, so as your grete mercy For oure pourpose may schape the remedy; And as ye know I mene the comoun wele Bothe of my frend and of myn enemy, [ 15] Graunt my request, party or euerydele.

And al worship that shal come by your grace To God mote tourne, with you, His Moder dere, Besechyng hym forgeue myn olde trespasse, Graunt me gode spede, for your most swete prayere. [ 20] And yow I pray, in most humble manere, [MS. repeats prayere.] Quene of Heuen, wel of myserycorde, As ye be sterre most feyre schynyng and clere, Wyth my desyre your grace ye wyl [MS. wel.] accord.

Prouost of Heuen, Archangel Michael, [ 25] Deffend me now be powayr most myhtye' [MS. mythye.] Of God the Fader; and, holy Gabriel, Geue me counsayl of the Sone most wyttye, And Raphael, guyde vnto Thobye, Be my confort, and lede me to gode cost, [ 30] [leaf 7] By the uertu of blessed Holy Gost.

Dere spouse of God, holy Seynte Kateryne, Whose stedfast loue myght chaunge for no tourment Nor feyre promes, martyre and pure uirgyne, I beseche you to fauer myn entent; [ 35] And lyke as mylke oute of your feyre nek went In stede of blode, vppon your dying day, Here my prayer, and be with me al-wey.

Prynce of knythode, throwoute the Grete Breteyne, Noble of blode, large of hospitalyte, [ 40] Holy Seynt Albon, thou settest but in veyn Al worldly pomp for hym that died for the; Now in my nede, gode Lorde, remembre me, As of martyres thou hast begon oure daunce, First in oure lond, oure bonechief to auaunce. [ 45]

Blessed Seynt Gorge, most in oure remembraunce Ageynyst oure fone, haue vs alwey in mynde. Pray for oure grace, oure spede, and oure gode chaunce, As to Englond thou hast be euer kynde. And þow Fortune hath cast vs late behynde, [ 50] Yet fayle vs nat, whan þat we crye thi name, For with thyn helpe we hope recure gode fame.

Holy Marye, O blessed Magdaleyn, Ye with oure Lord fonde gret loue and mercy; For that tourment, ryght gret longyng; and peyn, [ 55] Þat your hert felt after ye saw hym dye, And for þat ioy and confort bodyly [leaf 7, back] That He gaue you with His first apparence, Geyn al euel, be ye my sure deffence.

Derest lady, and moder gracyouse, [ 60] Blesse me this tyme with þat uertu dyuyne To you geuen for me most desyrousse, To obey you vntyl my lengest fyne, Pray ye oure Lord, with his Moder virgyne, That my werkes may tourne to thy preysyng, [ 65] And I shal pray the botefull Kateryne To pray for youre and myn Ioyfull metyng.

7. Lenvoy to Mary.

(MS. Douce 326, folio 14, recto and verso; for the opening lines cf. p. 53, lines 99 ff.)

Goe, lytyll byll, and doe me recommende Vnto my lady with godely countynance, For trusty messanger I the sende, Pray her that sche make puruyaunce, For my loue, thurgh her sufferaunce, [ 5] In her bosom desyreth to reste, Syth of all women I loue here beste.

She ys lylly of redolence, Wych only may doe me plesure, She is the rose off conffydence, [ 10] Most conffortyng to my nature, Vnto that lady I me assure, I wyll hur loue and neuer mo, Goe, lytyll byll, and sey hur so.

She restyd in my remembraunce, [ 15] Day other nyght, wher-so I be; It ys my speciall dalyaunce, For to remembyr hur bewte, She is enprentyd in ych degre, With y[i]ftes of nature inexplycable, [ 20] And eke of grace incomperable.

The cause þerfor, yf she wyll wytt, Wyll I presume on sych a flowre Say off hyr, for yt ys I-wrytt, She is þe feyrest paramour, [ 25] And to man in ych langour, Most souerayn medyatrice, Therffor I loue þat flowre of pryce.

Her bewte holy to dyscryve, Who is she that may suffyce, [ 30] Forsoth, no clerk þat is on lyve, Syth she is only withowtyn vyce, Her flauour excedith the flowr delyce, Afore all flowres I haue hur chose, Enterely in myn herte to close. [ 35]

Hyr I beseche, seth I not feyne, Butt only putt me in hur grace, That iff me she not disdeyne, Taking regarde at old trespace, Seth myn entent in euery place [ 40] Shall be to doe hur obeysaunce And hur to loue saunce varyaunce.

8. Regina Celi Letare!

(From Univ. Lib. Camb. Kk. 1. 6, leaves 201, back, to 202.)

Regina celi letare, In whome fyrste þis worlde began, Whan Gabriell grete þe on his knee, Where thourgh the worde I was wrought þan, 'Aue' he seyde to þe sertayne, [ 5] 'Gracia plena, God is with the,' Where thourgh þou conseyuedyste God and man, Regina celi letare.

Quia quem meruisti portare Kyng, Emperour of heuene and helle, [ 10] And þou moder and mayden clene, That neuer was ffyled in flesche ne ffele, Thy pyte spryngeth, lady, as doth a welle, Vn-to alle synfull þat serue the, Where-fore, lady, to þe we melle, [ 15] Regina celi letare.

Resurexit sicut dixit, [leaf 202] That for vs lay dede in a stoone, And resyd he was from deth to lyth, And al to saue vs frome oure foone, [ 20] Than were þou, lady, wel be-goone, Whan þat þy sone to Heuene gan flee, Wher-fore þe Angeles Ioyede echoone, Regina celi letare.

Ora pro nobis ad deum, [ 25] As ȝe are sche þat neygheth hym nere, Vn-to þy blisse þat we may come, What þat þou seyste he wyl þe here; Wher-fore we pray þe, lady dere,

Oure auoket þat þou wylte be, [ 30] As ȝe to-gedyr were bounden in fere, Regina celi letare.

Here enduth regina celi.

9. The Five Joys of the Virgin.

(From Cotton Caligula A II, leaf 133. [The present text is preferred to that in Ashmole 59, on account of the notoriously poor versions common in that MS.] )

Quinque Gaudia.

1.

Heyl, gloryous virgyne, ground of all our grace! Heyl, Moder of Crist, in pure virginite! Heyl, whom the Son of God ches for his place, Send from above, down from the Faders see! [ 4] Heyl, with thyn ere conceyvyng, send to The The message be Gabryell, in this wyse seyng:— 'Heyl, full of grace! Our Lord ys with The!' Heyl, with thyne humble hert to it obeying! [ 8]

2.

Heyl, that with God so preuy art and pleyne! Among all wymmen blessed most þou be. Heyl, that conceyved and bere with-oute peyne The second Person in the Trynyte! [ 12] Heyl, chast lyly, descended from Iesse! Heyl, cristall clere! Heyl, closet of clennesse! Heyl, blessed burion! Heyl, blome of all beaute, Fayrest of fayre, aye flowring in fayrnesse! [ 16]

3.

Heyl, Emperyse of Heuen, hyest of astate! Heyl, mayden makelesse! Heyl, moder of pyte! Heyl, queene of counfort, of counfort desolate, When thou thy chylde sawe dying on a tre. [ 20] Heyl, whos vprisyng full shynyng was to þe! Heyl, that our mescheves old hast new redressed! Heyl, be whos meene this Lord hase made vs fre, The fruyt of thy wombe, ay be He b[l]essed. [ 24]

4.

Heyl, stydfast sterre, with stremys lemyng lyȝt, Heyl, that beheld full clerely with Thyn eye Thy son ascendyng be His propre myght, Peersyng the clowdes in-to heuen hye, [ 28] Wher it was sayde to hem of Galelye; 'Why merveyl ye, thus lokyng vp in veyne? This lord, þat thus ascended myȝtylye, Ryȝt as he stey, he shall com doun ayeyn.' [ 32]

5.

Heyl, flour of vertu, whos feyrnesse may not fade! Heyl, rose on ryse, most holsom of odour! Heyl, whom the Holy Gost can ioye and glade, In The assumyng vp in-to His tour! [ 36]

Heyl, comely Queene, ther crowned with honour! Heyl, mediatrice and mene for [all] man-kynd! Heyl, salue to seke, vs synneres send socour, These ioyes fyve empryntyng in our mynd. Amen. [ 40]

10. Maria Virgo Assumpta Est.

(From MS. B. M. Harley 2250, fols. 33-34.)

Regina celi, qwene of thy sowth, A-fourmed by Salomon his sapience, Ful swete or tho wordis come out of thy mowth, Thow blisful mayde, with grete prudence, Quo progredieris from youre presence? [ 5] Most hiest in montibus, most salience, Maria Virgo assumpta est.

Harvest is com, I com to shere, The myrrour of Immortalitee, Vox dilecta is in her eere, [ 10] Thus she saide, transite ad me, Fulfilled I am with felicite, Com to my weddyng and se my fest, The heyre of my chambre, the sterre of the see Maria Virgo assumpta est. [ 15]

With my hony my combis I ete, With my swetnesse man is fedde; At my croswyndowe I have in-leete His right arme clypped me in my bedde, As a spouses to hir husbond, thus am I cled. [ 20] Thes waccheman has my son in Rest; To desert now be thai fled, Maria Virgo assumpta est.

With my mylke I drank the wyne, Water and bloode my sustenaunce, [ 25] The Rede appul of my gardyne, For mannes soule hath made fyaunce Thus she saith with grete Retenaunce, As fayre as moone and sterre in the west Amonges al floures I lede the daunce [ 30] Maria Virgo assumpta est.

Com to the bussh that wastith nought, For I am of the old testament, I'am the thridde out of Jesse is brought, [fol. 33vo] Goddis moder omnipotent. [ 35] Thus with my spouse I am thi content, I may rule the kynges guest, And speke myself in the parlement, Maria Virgo assumpta est.

As a Cedre I am haunced in libano, [ 40] Aboue al bankis I do sprede And as cypres in science also I am the fruyte of the hye godhede I bere the grapes Crist to feede, The clustris hang vpon my brest, [ 45] To mylke mankynd whan he hath nede Maria virgo assumpta est.

I am the cover of the water streame, Of Iacobis clothis so swete odoure, I am the faire doughter of Ierusalem, [ 50] The kyng desired me to his towre, Dilectus meus, my paramour, Warned me neuer fro the hy conquest He set me so souerainly in se and towre Maria virgo assumpta est. [ 55]

I am the Rose of Iericho Whiche Crist hase chosyn to be his boure, With .xij. sterris crowned I go, Com se youre suster in suche honoure, * * * * * Your cousyn, youre kynde, so hye inprest, [ 60] Loke vp youre strengthis in my toure Maria virgo assumpta est.

I am the licour of faithful grace, I am with Pater clauikulary, I flemyd hym neuer from my face, [ 65] That to me wold be tributary; Therfor, man, for thy synne loke thow be sory, [fol. 34] The sonner thow may be relest, Bycause mankynde shuld not myscary, Maria Virgo assumpta est. [ 70]

Assumpta est Maria, plena gracie, So hye emperes withouten peere, O womman in hevene mater misericordie, Sucurre nobis or we be layde on beere; To do hir laudacioun I rede that we lere, [ 75] And make hir Ioye at this blessid fest, That she may comfort vs in al oure fere, Maria virgo assumpta est.

11. An Acrostic on Maria.

(MS. Bodl. Rawl. poet. 34, fols. 18-20.)

Awey, ffeyntt lufe, full of varyaunce, Mych flateryng thow hast, and lytyl trust. I fforsake all thy daliaunce; Syth þou arte weddyd to luste, Another lady chese me muste, [ 5] Wich euermore ys perseueraunt, In luff and never varyaunt.

But wher schall I þat lady ffynde, That neuer wyll fro me owttrage? Syche-one were off a noble kynde, [ 10] Lyke as in youthe, so loffyng in age, I wysse, þat lady wyll yiff corage Vnto here luffer for to be trewe, And neuer to chaunge her for no new.

Throw-owte thys worlde I wolle hyr seche [ 15] Both north and sowth, by est and west, To spend my labur and my spech,

And doe my dylygence to loue hyr best, Then myght my herte be sette in rest, That hath for long tyme luffyd in vayn, [ 20] And ffyndyth no stedfast luff agayn.

None erthly tresure wold I compayr, Gold, syluer, nor precious stone, No woman, wer sche neuer so ffeyre, Owther high of birth, vn-to such one, [ 25] For sych a lady I make my mone, Wich only I chese to paramour, And synguler leche of my doloure.

Par case sche be off hygh degre, [fol. 19] And off lowe and pouer estate, [ 30] Ȝyit if fortune my frend wyll be, I may her wyn other erthly or late. I haue knowyn sum so fortunate Wych, though they wer ful lowe of kyn, Kyngys doghtyrs by grace dyd wyn. [ 35]

And so I myght by grace atteyn, Vn-to here lufe, þat were most hygh. Yif at the bygynnyng sche wold dysdeyne, Yit uertuus gydyng myght[t] bryng me nyghe, Gode lady, ffor thy luff I syghe, [ 40] That nothyng may doe me no plesaunce, Butt only thy remembraunse.

Wherfor, in thy memoriall Myne herte, thyn herbere wyl I make. Among all herbys grett and smale, [ 45] Pentafiloun, therto schall be take. It hath v. leuys wich for thy sake Schall be enamelyd with the fame, Fyve lettrys conteynid in thy name.

M. for most meke maydyn and nother, [ 50] Fyguryd in Mychell a lady of Israell, Fyrst spowse, I-cheece for all other, To Dauid, as doth the story tell, Of mercy calld, sche ys the well, To whome euermore inmaculate, [ 55] The Margarite is well appropriate.

A. for the wyff off Naball, Abigaill, [fol. 19vo] In-prudente als Adam with-oute avisement, Answeryng Dauid wherfor he wold hym kyll But by the prudence of Abigaill chaunged hys entent, [ 60] My lady in ffygure as þe adamauntt, to whom was lent Propyrte attractyff, when sche seyde, 'Loo, mekly, my lordes own handemayde'.

R. ffor Rachel, with-owtt deformyte, Crownyd with þe ruby off schamefastnes, [ 65] Example to woman in ych degre, Off wommanhede, vertu, and lowlynes, Modyr to Ioseph, innocent, as doth wytnes The fyrst boke off the old testament, Wych ffygure to my lady is conuenyent. [ 70]

I for Iudith, that lady vyctoryus, Wych thurgh her meknes and chastyte In her gyding as the Iaspyd was gracius, That the Iuery sche sauyd fro captyuite, O lady Iudith, that euer durst sche [ 75] Prynce Olyfern with your handes kyll, In ffygure off my lady, yt was Goddes wyll.

A knyttyth thys conclucion Vpon my souerayn lades name, To whome with-owte abusion [ 80] Is ffygure a lady of grete fame, Abisaag with allatory, wich men fro blame Preseruyth and procuryth benyuolence Off souerayn to seruant ayenst offence.

Who lykyth to wytt more plenerly [ 85] [fol. 20] Whatt that I mene in thys processe, The bybill and the lapydary for to study Let hem conuerte her besynesse, In the herball also, fyue- leuyd gresse, What propyrtees yt hath, of the wyll rede, [ 90] Off the mystery son may thow spede.

For I haue purposyd in my mende My souerayn lady for to hyde In ffygure of scrypture as I hur ffynde, For whom all other be putt asyde, [ 95] Vn-to whos grace good God me gyde, That may all bale turn into blysse, Loo, such my souerayn yse.

[Lenvoy.]

Go lytill balett, and doe me recommende Vn-to my lady with godely countynaunce, [ 100] Bysekyng hur that sche me sende Comfortt ayenst all comberaunce, And me deffend from all myschaunce, So that afore my fyniall howre I may hur see to my succour.

Amen.

12. John Marion's ABC to the Virgin.

(From MS. Arundel 168, folio 1.)

Criste god [The leaf is torn, and this is but a hazard. I should prefer to read 'crosse', if I could.] me spede now in my lityll tretyse, And gyfe me grace so for to lerne Myne Abse, that y may haue a relese Of my synnes, and þat y may so yerne; It can to save me fro the Enferne, [ 5] I mene the fiere that is so full of fer, Therof y yow beseche, my hertes lady der.

All-merciable and gracious quene, To whom all this worlde fleeth for socour, So be owr helpe and also mene [ 10]

Vn-to your son þat is owr saviour, That we fall neuer in non errour Ayens hym ner yow in non maner, Therof y yow beseche, my hertis lady der.

Bountyfull lady, fulfylled with pete, [ 15] I yow beseche, myn hooll hertes qwene, To be suche a mediatrice for me, Whan your swete son þis worlde shall deme, That y be in þe nowmbre of the clene In the lyȝthe of þe godly clade cler, [ 20] Therof y yow beseche, myn hertes lady der.

Curteys and clene mayde, þowe y vnworthi be, Yit accepe my pouer and simple orisoun, That y am full suer as by your discrescioun Ye may me gouerne fro yere to yere [ 25] In vertue, my hertis lady dere.

Devoutely lady with all my hertes Cur, I yow pray, wheder slepe, wake, ryde, or goo, That ye me helpe from all mysauentur, In youthe, in age, in wele and woo, [ 30] That y may be ay redy as on of þo To enherite your Ioy and ther to aper, Therof y yow beseche, myn hertis lady der.

Empryse ye be, parde þis is no naye, Of helle and of heuenly oste also, [ 35] And if it please yow, I aske a daye, Laysur and respyte or þat y goo, So me to arme ayens my mortall foo That he for drede to me dar not aper, Therof y yow beseche, my hertes lady der. [ 40]

For fynall [MS. funall.] I hym do fye, with this þat ye Be myn helpe as ye wele can and may, In the owr of dethe for þan mete shall we, But y truste in yow and haue don ay. Ye shall me defende fro þat ferefull fraye, [ 45] And lede me oute of þis world synne sere, Wher as ye lyste, myn hertis lady dere.

Goodely curtays, fayre, fre, and sw[e]te, Benynge, lovely to euery creature, Be myn advocatesse and save me fro þe hete [ 50] Of the enferne that is oute of all mesure. I can not say, but euer vnder your Cure In me commaunde, bothe here and elles-where, Right as ye liste, myn hertis lady dere.

Helpe me, lovely lady, sumwhate to endyte, [ 55] And sende me englyshe to your pleasaunce, That as my writynge I may me so quyte Of my synnes þat y may haue alegeaunce, And in vertues so me allway to enhaunce, That my soule be save whan my body is on bere, [ 60] Therof y yow beseche, my hertis lady dere.

I truste in yow, and shall tyll I sterue, And after also, for than I muste nede. But, goode lady, þe which I haue and ay shall serue, So scoure þe wayes þat be so full of drede, [ 65] So scant, so scharpe make þem to me in brede, That I all easly may passe thoroughe them clere, Therof y yow beseche myn hertes lady dere.

Kallyng of Gabriell so ferfull shall be to me, Whan all this world shall com to rekynnyng, [ 70] That vn-nethe þe righwise man apere dare he, Than is þer non helpe, but only your prayinge Vn-to your sonne, þat on your breste was sokyng, For me and all oþer that shall be there. Than pray for vs, myn hertes lady dere. [ 75]

Louelyeste lady, to yow y me compleyne, Sith it is ye þat is þe well of grace, To be myn helpe whan myn hert shall on tweyn, And myn hye hall descendeth vpon myn face, Than is þer no daunce, purdowy, ner trace, [ 80] But only your prayers þat ben so swete and clere Than pray for vs, myn hertes lady dere.

Mary, mayde and wif, of women patronesse, Lanterne of light, leme of chastite, Rote of grace, of vertue ye be maystresse, [ 85] [fol. 168vo] Schryne of Iesu and of holy chirche also ye be, Modur, wherby wasshen be all we Fro derknesse and made bright and clere, Now pray for vs, myn hertes lady dere.

N[ow]h, blissyd lady, with all þe circumstaunce, [ 90] Of [my pra] yer ye take hede and cure, That y be accepte to Ioy with-oute allegeaunce, Whan Mighell þe balaunce bryngyth of mesure, My soule to wey, þan put y me vnder your cure, Me to save fro that endelesse fyer, [ 95] Therof y yow beseche myn hertes lady dere.

O honour, o Ioy, and all lofeynge Be to yow, myn holle pryncesse, And to your sonne, that hath knowyng Of all this world, both more and lesse, [ 100] For he is sone of mercy, fader of rightwysnesse, Holy goste of witte that doth vs lere To aske your help, myn hertis lady dere.

Perelesse ye be that euer was bore Of women sen Adam was or noee [ 105] Thorought [whom] it cam that all was for-lore, But in yow resorted, þat is oure alder ioy Your swete son, þat bouȝt vs with no weyght of troy But with his precius blode þat was full rede and clere, To hym pray for vs, myn hertis lady dere. [ 110]

Quite me now, lady, vn-to the trinite, The whiche was clossed in yow as seint in schryne, And praye for vs, if it youre will be,

And for Iohn Marion, the whiche sume tyme Made þis litill Abce and set it lyne be lyne, [ 115] As to his simple witte, while he was lying here, So pray for hym and vs, myn hertes lady dere.

Ruleresse of all thinge, O goode lady celestiall Consider þat I with petous herte vn-to yow compleyne Besechinge yow of helpe for-sothe eternall, [ 120] For whan I shall dye, experience is pleyne, A witnesse so þat I may noȝt ateyne, The cruelnesse of myn aduersious lyfe here, Now wote I no help but yow, myn hertes lady dere.

Souereyne beaute, and moste of goodlyed, [ 125] Orlage asterlaber, þe grete spere of þe sonne, Quadrant dyol, shipe vn-to þe grete godhed, Iemmetres be whiche all reson is in founde, Now passe I fro high science, lesse þat I confounde My wittes, that be so vnstable and sere, [ 130] Yete pray for vs, myn hertis lady dere.

Take hede, whan I shall dye, and into erth crepe, All cold, all naked, and all to be for-sake, Safe a litill lynen-clothe, not fully a shete, And hyllyd among wormes as carian with a rake, [ 135] Now swete flouour of floures, þat neuer hadeste make, O vertues uer of loue þat shynen so clere Now praye for vs, myn hertes lady dere.

What haue we in this world but only your grace, Eny thing? nay, wherfore I write no more, [ 140] But euer pray yow of leyser mynd and space So þat my soule be safe and not forlore, Than for to brenne in þe fier wers þan is here For we were better euer to be vn-bore, Than pray for vs, myn hertis lady dere. [ 145]

Xcelente empresse in þe emperiall of heuen, To yow I directe þis lityll abce, And to þe fadur and to þe son þat þe daies seuen Made and devited, both lond and see; Now pray for Iohn Marion and also for me [ 150] That our soules be saf and principally thenne Whan ye can say no more but titill est, Amen.

Explicit Litere Alphabeti.

13. An ABC to the Virgin.

(From MS. Leyden Voss. 9, pp. 223-230.)

Most glorious lord, with thy cros be thou my spede, [p. 223] And me defende fro ye fendis Temptacyon, With alle the court of hevyn at my nede, To kepe me fro the worldis Tribulacyon; And geve me grace, in this ocupacyon, [ 5] To worchuppe the and that blyssed ladye, With the Remembrons of myne Abce.

A. ve virgine, In whome the holy gost To ben borne with owtyn synne or ony blame, And yet thy virgenyte was not lost, [ 10] Butte drofe the fendes alle to schame The vertew of that lordes hye name [p. 224] In hous name, lady, I beseche the, To socur me in my nessesyte.

B]lessyd lorde, be yat Rassyn yat seche a branche dede ber [ 15] That delyuerd mankynde from Eternall payne, Of his plentevous bloode he was not misser, For he sufferd his manhod to be slayne,— At the thredde day he rose and made the ful fayne For the whech Ioye, quene most of onowre [ 20] Ageynest alle synnys thow be my socoure.

C]omforteres of alle discomfortes, Of whom alle grace dothe abounde, Counsseleres of alle discouncelles, That to the wille calle in any stounde, [ 25] Councelle my seke soule that is vnsounde, And Comfort it with dropis of thi mercye, For to make it abill, lady, for to serue the.

D]iamoundis vertu neuer dothe fayle, That passith the vertew of the diamaund stone, [ 30] For when the fynde wolde mannys soule asayle, Thou prayest to the sone and helpis them anone Ther was neuer synner so foule of synne begonne That wille on-to the after mercy calle, Butte thow madist hym fre wher he was thralle. [ 35]

E]uer lastynge fortune of humilyte [p. 225] Of whom spryngith the verrey reuer of grace, Fulfillyd with thy virginyte Here me to amende thow graunte me space, That I haue no cause to say Alasse [ 40] Whanne fro this werlde shall make traunsmutcyon, Butte me condyte the wey of salvacyon.

F]lour most exelent for to magnyfie Thou dedist ber that Blissid Seede, Be the hey faderis of hevyns devinite [ 45] That boute alle mankende out of drede, For vs on the Roode his blode he dede shede I pray the that bloode be in my memorie When I am be-stadde with ony thought of folye.

G]lorious quene, with thi Resplendissant brightnes, [ 50] That Confortith with Ioye alle mankynde, Emplyed fulle of euer-lastyng swettenes, Thy Comparison may no mane fynde; Lady, I beseche the to haue me in thi mynde, That in this werlde fulle of abucyon, [ 55] Thow defende me fro Tribulacyon.

H]ayle moder, mayden, wyfe, and quene Euer-lastyng, thise iiij had neuer none Butt thow, goddes moder so shyne,

Ne neuer shalle haue butt you alone. [ 60] Of the, good lady, I aske a boone, That thow shewe me so grett favure, To be my defence ageyns the fendes errour.

I]uste mirrour of most chastyte [p. 226] That man kan fynde by Experiens, [ 65] Thow barist hym that deyed on tre, That of his blood mad so grette dispens, And alle yat was for mannys defens, Be the wheche defence, quene of hevyn, I pray the, saue me fro ye synnes vijne. [ 70]

K]eper of soulis on-to thi blis, Of thyne euer-lastynge Charite, Redresse of them that done amisse, Thorgh thi grete benynnyte, Make my soule abill to come to the, [ 75] And for-geve yette his misdede, The body defende fro the synne of pride.

L]ovynge and Ioye be to sech an emperes, That from hyr hye trone wolle dessende Owre synfull fautes for to Redresse [ 80] And geve vs grace for to amende, Gracyous lady, to my lifes ende I betake the both soule and bodye, Preynge the to kepe hem fro ye synne of envye.

M]oste magnifyed lady of the court celestyall [ 85] And arte very concord on-to ye Trinyte, Reffuge to vs synneres alle In our helpe I prey the euer to be, That for thy grette humyly[te] On vs synneres haue pety and Rowthe [ 90] [p. 227] And vs defende fro the synne of slowth.

N]owe to the, floure fayrest of beute, That for no Tempest neuer do synne, Grownd of most very loyeallte, Vn-to the I me Compleyn, [ 95] That of thy Grace I me Refrayne From that vnresonabill synne and fyer Wheche is callyd the synne of Ire.

O] glorious princes, so myghty and so good, That alle vertew by Goddes powyr asse, [ 100] Honouryd be thou of alle Cristen bloode, And heriede be thy name in euery plasse, Hyre alle-so thou graunte the grace To with-stonde that synne and vice That is namyd Covetyce. [ 105]

Pro]phetis prophessyde and seyd full trewe That of a mayde a braunche shuld sprede And his name shuld be Iesu, That shuld saue man from alle drede; Gracyous lady, thou be my Rede, [ 110] And with abstynens thou fede me Ageyns the synne of Glotenye.

Q]uene on-to the as to the Cheffe braunch of Iesse, For most Chast chosyn thou was, Moder to that worthy lord for to be [ 115] That for man dyed uppon the Crosse; Lady, for that worchuppe yat thou chosyn was, My body full-fyll with Chastyte, That I synke not in the synne of lecherie.

R]ossyre that spred so freschly thy bewte, [ 120] [p. 228] That enlumynyt alle the werld with thy clernes, And [in] heuene berist Crownys thre, Of heuyne, Erthe, and helle, as cheffe Emperes, Lady, for this grete worthynesse, I beseche the thou graunte me in my lyve [ 125] To spende welle my wyttes fyve.

S]ouereyn lady of most swetnesse That arte of pety Botelere, On-to the with alle mekenesse I recomaund my preyer [ 130] Whyche arte of pardon Tresorere That thou graunte or I dye To full-fille ye vij werkys of mercye.

T]how arte she in whome wolde take Oure savyour humanyte [ 135] That delyuerd vs fro the fyndes lake, With his blood so grett plente Whech he schede for vs on the Rood tre, Therfor lady I be-syche the My comaundementes to kepe make me. [ 140]

V]yrgyn glorious and dilectabill, Welle of pees and of concorde, And in alle grace so ferme and stabule Lady of pyte and messericorde On-to Iesu, thy sone thow me acorde, [ 145] [p. 229] And of my synnys thou broke ye bonde, That the fendes flyght I may with-stonde.

X]pus In the holy maydyn pure So welle he knewe thy Gouvernonce, That of the he wolde take hys fygure, [ 150] Thow hym consauedest with-owtyn delyonce And delyuerd vs fro the fendes chaunce, Wherefor, lady, curteys and sage, I praye the pray for vs to that lord of hye parage.

Y]saye the prophete that enspyryd was [ 155] Be the holygast of the to make mencyon That of the shuld come alle oure grace And frome alle sorwys be our defencyon, Vn-to the, lady, we take entencyon, I Recomaund my sprete so chaungeabulle [ 160] To thy hye mercy that neuer was desseyvabule.

Z]akaryus and Elyzabeth that Reioyed was, And delyuerd from here barente, So I beseche the, lady, in schort space,

For that hye solemnyte, [ 165] That Seynt Iohn the Baptiste dede to the, When Elyzabeth the mette at the Gyldyn yate Fro alle sorowys be our defens bothe erly and late.

Et] percye [And per se] thou arte with oute compercyon [p. 230] To the may none make semylytude. [ 170] There-for in this lytill conclusyon We preye the we be not Ingratytude Fro the presens of the hye magnytude Boot accepte our preyeres in euery cessone, Thowe it be late at euyn or erly at moryne. [ 175]

ous] percye thou of thyne owyn benygnyte Ho so lyst calle the uppone, Be they hey ore lowe of onny degre, Thy pertynus ere of mercie heris hame anone So mercyfully to thy blyssyd sone thou canst gone, [ 180] And aske of hym for mankynde mercy Wherefor we thynke the most glorious ladye.

∴] thre in the last ende ther be Fadyr and sone and holy gost, In syngnyfyance of the Trinyte [ 185] Abovyn alle thynges of mightes most, To hos vertew I betake vs in euery cost And to Marie, that maydyn euene, Est Amen with alle the courte of heuene.

14. O Flos Pulcherrime!

(From B. M. MS. Adds. 31 042, fols. 80-81.)

With humble hert I praye iche creature, [leaf 80] Lorde and lady, knyghte and othere fferialle, To here þe grace þe whiche I thynke depure, And prey for grace to me in specyalle Scho be nott wrothe I hir my lady calle [ 5] Wiche es þe spowse of Godde full of petee, Moder and mayden, to hir synge I schall, O Florum flos, O Flos pu[l]cherime!

O qwene of blysse, Emprys moste reuerent, I my-selfe, wiche hath not bott syn, [ 10] With-owt thi helpe may none instrument Þis ferdfull acte to ende nor to be-gyn; Where-fore þis-selfe to my tonge Entir In, The distincty partyes of thi highe bewty, And while I life, to synge I will not blyn [ 15] O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime.

The kiddes ffloke depured in clennes, Downne fro þe Mounte of Galaad descendynge, Es lykennede to thyn here for pure brightenes, Illumeneth brigthere þan þe soneschyngynge, [ 20] Þe sterry heuen, þe fyre, þe golde bryngyng, Bothe grante þay thyne here þe solempne souereynte Of colour fresche so lusty raueschynge, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Blissed be thyn here wich fro thyn hede schede [ 25] Semys as brighte in trisses as dose þe serpentyne, Departed was and with his handis doune leede, Of þi ȝongly playfere, Goddes sone and thyn, To dresse thyn here, O lorde, who couthe demyne So plesande a wighte als þi babe one thi knee, [ 30] His fingers smale dide kembe it well and fyne, O Florum flos, O Flos pu[l]cherime.

Blissed be þi fayre forehede smothe and playne, Moste merueylously depaynttede ȝongly and white, Whos indestynat coloure dothe desteyne [ 35] Þe candidens lilies frescheste of delite; Þe langynge plesance of þe margarite For to be solde pulesched with subtelte, Þi faire hede syne was hade bot in despite, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime. [ 40]

Blissede be þi browes concordande in fere, [leaf 80, back] Noþer so myche nor to lyte, bot in mesure, Not wody thike nor naked pure of here, But in meen sett full temperature, Silke thredys twynede, gilted most heuenliture, [ 45] Gay, radyant, to þam may likenede bee, In Blisse þay passe þe wonnynge of nature, O Florum flos, O Flos Pulcherime!

Blissede be þi nosse, in righte lyne regulere, In parties euen thi vesage mesurynge, [ 50] With ouertys tueyne, thurgh concordande infere, Withoute waste of surfet in any thynge. Aromatyke odoure, fresche reflayrynge, Pure balsamyte, fragrante in alle plentee, Þay turryfye þi nose, incense to Goddes louynge, [ 55] O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Blissede be thyn eghne, of coloure cristallyne, In þam es truste of raueschynge plesance, Þi sterry stremys, lodours frome ruyne, Refrenyde þay bene in breth of temperance, [ 60] Noghte vacabownde in mobyll varyance, Ȝongly laughyng, þai passe in nouelte Þe sonnes lighte, þe sterres suffyciance, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Blissede ben þi chekes, frescheste of coloure, [ 65] They likenede bene vn-to þe lely white, Þe whilke weddede hath þe rose to paramour Thaym tueyn depaynttede þi vesage of delyte, Þe merounte Ruby with the margaryte With þam in blysse myghte hafe no partie [ 70] Bewte hath luste to belde in siche a sete, O Florum flos, O Flos pu[l]cherime!

Blissed ben thyn Eres, solayne fortunate, Þe friste Ȝates of oure saluacyoun, In whome Entrede þe presant delycate [ 75] Of Gabriel pure salutacyone, þurgh force and thyne humyliacyone Hand-mayden of Godde, when þou sayde 'Ecce',

Goddes of the tuke incarnacyone, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime! [ 80]

Blissed be þe mouthe of whome siche wordes come, Thy fragrant lippes of heuenliture, More hony-swete þan euer was þe hony-combe Þe suasy tethe more euerowse and pure [leaf 81] Þan euere was swettnesse of nature, [ 85] Þi tonge of trewthe, Þi throte of chastite, All thies be blissede of euery creature, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Blissede be þi nekke, pilere streghte and euen, Vprighte berynge þi hede and thi vesage, [ 90] Whome to beholde þe knyghthode of alle heuen Ran down to þe erthe in haste in pilgremage. Thi shryne þay soghte, þay sawe thi pure Image, Chefe chosen chaste trone of þe Trynite, Knelynge þay sayde, 'we make to the homage, [ 95] O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!'

Blissede ben thi scholdours, sobour of stature, Noghte boulky, ruyde, crokede, but euenly mete, With armes fayre acordynge in mesure, In whome in-halsede þin sone swetter þan moste swete, [ 100] Halsyng and kyssynge bothe hede and fete, Thyn handes eke, merours of honeste, Thi fyngers smale, with Ioy and blysse I grete, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime.

Blissede be thy breste, frescheste of colour, [ 105] Als appill rownde is lite and ȝongly newe, Costrellis compluyte with plentuose licour, More swete in taste þan euer was heuenly dewe, Of þe wiche hym fedde þi sone, oure lorde Iesu; Thi wombe eke, cloystre of virginite, [ 110] With laude honour and all blys I renewe, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Blissede be þou, lady, body, bakke and syde, Bothe flesche and felle, legges, feete, blode, and bone, With oþer secretis, wiche langage I moste hide, [ 115] Þi parties alle, blissede mote þay be, ichone! Bot, lady dere, when thi sone saide to Iohn, 'See thi modir!' hangyng appon a tree, Alle thi bewte þe clippes hadde ouergone, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime! [ 120]

Thyn here þou rent, thyn eghne distillede blode, This mouthe to-breste with waylynge and with cry, Thi breste þou bett, þe swerde of sorowe stode Owte thorowe thyn hert, þi son when þou saw dy, Þe gloryfiede swete bewte of thi body [ 125] [leaf 81, back] Schortly to saye, þou sparede in none degre, Whi suffrede þou woo vnworthily, O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!

Fadere of heuen, whi was thi-selfe vnkynde Vn-to thi doghtir, Innocent and trewe, [ 130]

To suffre þe false Iewes take and blynde Hir to distane, and O þou Criste Iesu, Whi lete þou than thi modir paynes renewe, Thou Holy Goste, þe temple vnto þe Þou scholde haue sauede and sayde 'one the I rewe, [ 135] O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!'

O ȝe aungells of euery Ierarchie, O cheualrous knyghthode of alle heuen, Where was þan ȝour comforthe and ȝour armonye, O heuenly bodies, and O ȝe planettis seuen, [ 140] Þen scholde hafe descendit frome þens full euen, To ȝour lady, sene in aduersyte, Whi come ȝe noghte and songe with lowde steuen, O Florum flos, O Flos pu[l]cherime!

I can no more, bot blyssede be al-waye [ 145] Of Criste þe solempne resurreccyoun, He hathe renewede þi bewte ones for ay, And stablide it thurghe heghe assencyone, * * * * * With auryall of souereynge sanyte, He said 'Welcome vn-to my mansyone, 'O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!'

Goo forthe and see þe doghteres of Syon, Thi souereyne lady es faireste of ȝow alle, Ȝe cleped were for to see Salamon, In diademe honourede and with palle, [ 155] Lat be, lat be, O foles, I ȝow call, Thi lady es flour of formosite, Fall doun, Obey, to hir synge ȝe schall 'O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!'

Of sexty quenys Salamon dothe write, [ 160] With fourescore concubynes folowynge, And Damesells eke of Nombre infenyte, With alle þe doghtirs of Syon olde and ȝonge, Wiche went to see þe bewte raueschynge Of my saide lady, moste in dignyte, [ 165] Of laude and blysse þay sesede noghte to synge, 'O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!'

O Marie, lady, modire, maiden and wyfe, Displeyes thi breste, thi pappes schewe to thi childe, His hertis wounde, þe chartre of oure lyfe, [This and the following lines added at side of text, leaf 81, back.] [ 170] To schew his Fader for oure werkes wilde, And als þou ert þe flour þat neuer was Withowte[n]ende, þou graunte vs all to se Thi heghe bewte and to synge with hert mylde 'O Florum flos, O Flos pulcherime!' [ 175]

Explicit Cantus Amen.

New Haven, Connecticut, U. S. A.

H. N. MacCracken.