Thenke good y be, thy foo.
Whanne wylt þou of þy synne ses,
Haue mercy on þy soule woo,
Or haue mynde on me, and ȝeue me pes?
Line 48
(7)
¶ To suffre deþ, y meked me,
Fro pyne to blisse, þy soule to wynne.
To me so shuldest þou meke þe,
Leue and forbere þy synne.
Line 52
Fro my lordschipe myȝt þou not fle,
Heuene ne helle, ne see wiþ-ynne,
But where and whenne my wille be,
Þy body and soule to parte o twynne.
Line 56
(8)
¶ Thouȝ y haue graunted þe grace
To knowe boþe good and ylle,
Wyte þy self in eche a place,
Wheþer þou wylt þy self spille.
Line 60
Þouȝ flesch and world and fend [þe] chas,
Temptacion profre þe tille,
Þou myȝt forbere and nouȝt trespas;
I lente þe knoweleche and fre wille.
Line 64
(9)
¶ In syknesse and pouerte,
Glade þerynne, and þanke me all.
Þe more þou hast þerof plente,
Þe nerre þe, be y shall.
Line 68
Þan say, 'Lord, kepe me neyȝ þe! [folio 110a]
At nede, here me when y call!
Take fro me hele and prosperite
Raþere þan lete me fro þe fall!'
Line 72
(10)
¶ Man, rewe on my paynes sore,
Repente þy synne, and mercy craue.
By my woundes, swere no more.
Dysmembre no lymes þat y haue.
Line 76
