Altenglische legenden.

                                
                                  Wate full wele whate mi will is:
                                
                                  Neuer swilk wirschipe forto haue,
                                
                                  Ofe man ne wife, maiden ne knaue.
                                
                                  Faire ofe þis contre þou bringe me [Ms. faire st. fer?] 
                                  Line 295 
                                
                                  And send me plase of priuete!
                                
                                  For is nathinge þat i hate mare
                                
                                  Þan to be menskid, or wele fare".
                                
                                  Sone effter on a mirk nighte
                                
                                  Oute ofe þate toune he fled, for sighte,
                                  Line 300 
                                
                                  And come to þe toune ofe Laodise,
                                
                                  Þate es gode toune ofe marchandise.
                                
                                  In-to þe se he schippid þare:
                                
                                  For in-to Tarsis he thoȝte to fare,
                                
                                  To dwell þare in sainte Paule kirk
                                  Line 305 
                                
                                  In pouerte, & goddef will to wirk.
                                
                                  Bote god tornid þe wind belife
                                
                                  And gerte þe schippe in Rome ryue.
                                
                                  And when Alexis come to land,
                                
                                  His fadir he mette fra þe kirk comand.
                                  Line 310 
                                
                                  And faire he gon his fadir grete
                                
                                  And saide to him þir wordes swete:
                                
                                  "Lorde, of me þow haue mercie,
                                
                                  A pure nedefull man am I;
                                
                                  Þou giue me mete par charite
                                  Line 315 
                                
                                  Of releue þate þou leues before þe!
                                
                                  And if þou lufe ani mane
                                
                                  Þat in pilgrimage es gane,
                                
                                  I sall praie god wiþ mode & maine
                                
                                  Þat he sende him sone againe
                                  Line 320 
                                
                                  And þate he com hale and sounde,
                                
                                  Wiþ-outen wemme, wiþ-outen wounde,
                                
                                  In foreward þat þou do me gude
                                
                                  And helpe me to my lyues fude".
                                
                                  Full still þan stode Eufemiane,
                                  Line 325 
                                
                                  To lithe and listen þis pure mane;
                                
                                  On Alexis, his sonne, so he thoȝte,
                                
                                  Þat him nerehand to dede had broȝte,
                                
                                  Þat in pilgrimage was wente,
                                
                                  Bote he ne wiste whare he was lente;
                                  Line 330 
                                
                                  Forthi for him he sighid sare
                                
                                  And wepid for sorowe & for care.
                                
                                  And for he thoȝte þan of his sonne,
                                
                                  He gerte his sorowe more monne,
                                
                                  And he saide: "man, for mi sonne sake
                                  Line 335 
                                
                                  Into mi house i will þe take,
                                
                                  And þare i sall þe clethe & fede
                                
                                  And fynde þe all þat þe es nede".

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About this Item

Title: Altenglische legenden.
Author: Horstmann, Carl, ed. b. 1851.
Canvas: Page 181
Publication: Heilbronn,: Gebr. Henninger,; 1881.
Subject terms: Saints -- Legends; English poetry; Legends

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Collection: Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse
Link to this Item: https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001
Link to this scan: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/c/cme/afw1383.0001.001/319:3

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DPLA Rights Statement: No Copyright - United States

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Manifest: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/api/manifest/cme:afw1383.0001.001

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Full citation: "Altenglische legenden." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 19, 2025.

Altenglische legenden.

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