Þe Rede wyn renneþ ryf;
In Samaritane, God ȝaf a wyf
Þat leof licour to drinke.
Line 139
(12)
LAdi! loue doþ þe to alegge!
Line 140
Þi fruit is prikked wiþ speres ord;
On Cros, wiþ-outen knyues egge,
I kerue fruit of godes hord:
Al is al red, Rib and Rugge;
Line 144
His bodi bledeþ aȝeyn þe bord;
I was piler and bar a brugge;
God is weie, witnesse of word,
God seiþ he is soþfast weye.
Line 148
Mony folk slod to helle slider;
To heuene, mihte no mon þider,
Til god dyed, and tauȝte whider
Men drawen whon þei dye.
Line 152
(13)
Moyses haþ fourmed in his figour,
Line 153
A whit lomb, and non oþer beste,
Schulde be sacred vr saueour,
And be mete of mihtes meste.
I was þat cheef chargeour;
Line 157
I bar flesch for folkes feste,
Ihesu crist vre saueour,
He fedeþ boþe lest and meste;
Rosted a-ȝeyn þe sonne,
Line 161
On me lay þe lomb of loue;
I was plater, his bodi a-boue;
Til feet and hondes al to-cloue,
Wiþ blood I was bi-ronne.
Line 165
(14)
Ȝit Moyses in Rule haþ rad,
Line 166
We schulde ete vr lomb in sour vergeous;
Sour vergeous mai make vr soules glad,
To serwe sore for sunnes ours.
Line 169
Sour vergeous schal make þe deuel adrad, [folio 316:2]
ffor he fleccheþ fro godes spous.
