But ful of swetnesse, & of merci euere,
Help, þat my fader be not wroth with me!
Line 19842
Spek þou! for j ne dar not him ysee.
So haue j doon in eerþe, (allas þer-while!)
Þat certes, but if þou my socour bee,
To stink eterne, he wole my gost exile.
Line 19846
He vouched saaf, tel him, as was his wille, [folio 113b]
Bicomen a man, to haue oure álliaunce;
And with his precious blood he wrot þe bille
Vp-on þe crois, as general ácquitaunce
Line 19850
To euery Penitent in ful criaunce;
And þerfore, ladi briht, þou for us praye!
Þanne shalt þou boþë stinte al his greuaunce,
And make oure foo to failen of his praye.
Line 19854
I wot it wel, þou wolt ben oure socour,
þou art so ful of bowntee in certeyn;
ffor, whan a soulë falleth in errour,
þi pitee goth & haleth him ayein;
Line 19858
þanne makest þou his pees with his souereyn,
And bringest him out of þe crooked strete.
Who so þee loueth, he shal not loue in veyn;
Þat shal he fynde, as he þe lyf shal lete.
Line 19862
Kalendeerës enlumynëd ben þei
þat in þis world ben lighted with þi name;
And who-so goth to yow þe rihtë wey,
Him thar not drede in soulë to be lame.
Line 19866
Now, queen of comfort, sithe þou art þat same
To whom j seechë for my medicyne.
Lat not my foo no more my wounde entame [[MS. vntame]] ;
Myn hele, in-to þin hand, al j resyne.
Line 19870
Ladi, þi sorwe kan j not portreye
Vnder þe cros, ne his greevous penaunce;
But, for youre boþës peynës, j yow preye,
Lat not oure alder foo make his bobaunce,
Line 19874
Þat he hath, in hise lystës of mischaunce, [folio 114a]
