O sones of Adam, al to long[ë] while
Ye tarie hens! hastith hedir for schame!
See how my sonë, for youre gilt and blame,
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lo, hangith here, bibléd upon the crosse!
Bymeneth him in hert, in chiere & voysse!
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(34)
His blody stremës, se now, & be-holde!
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if ye to him have [any] affeccïoun,
Now, for his woo, youre hertës owt[en] colde;
Schewyth youre kendnesse & youre dileccioun,
ffor youre gilt makith he correccioun,
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And ámendith right be his ownë deth:
That ye noght rewe on him, myn hert it sleth.
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(35)
A, modier, þat so sone hire cotë tare
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Or rentë! say ye neuere none or this,
ffor child [the] which [she] of hire body bare,
To yeve hire tete. and my child þat here is,
his cote hath torne, for youre gilt, not for his,
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[&] hath of his blood spilt in gret foysoun;
And alle his, lo, for youre redempcïoun!
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(36)
My derë childe, my fruyt þat on [me] growed, [folio 67]
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Myn lusty appil, blisful faire and sweet,
Now deth hath him be-clapped with his clowde,
That him perced [vn]to the hertë rote.
Go to, thow man, þere thu myght haue thi bote!
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Go suke the Iuce! the is no thing so sweet;
Go take thin part! I rede the not for-gete.
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(37)
Go nere, & see how þat he is for-bete,
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And alle for-persed sore and pietously!
See how there rennë fyvë stremës grete,
That yelde[n] owt the Iuce habundauntly!
Go sowke therof! I say you faithfully,
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In good tyme was he bore, þat hath þat grace,
In tho woundes to make his duellyng place.
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