Þy wrong wynnyng, aȝen restore.
Ȝif þou wilt þy soule saue,
Lete soule be lord, and go byfore,
And make þy body þy soule knaue.
Line 80
(11)
¶ Man, and þou wist how,
So liȝtly my gre to make,
Þou noldest, for alle þe worldis prow,
For fleschly lustes me forsake.
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In þy lyue, besye þe now;
In goode werkis wysely wake;
In loue, drede, to me bow,
And fle to me fro synnes blake.
Line 88
(12)
¶ Seuene werkis of mercy, kepe hem well,
Þe comaundementis and þe Crede,
All þy lyue, as y þe telle;
Ȝeue me þyn herte in loue and drede.
Line 92
Whyle body and soule togydre dwelle,
Þou myȝt serue pyne and mede.
When soule is out of flesch and felle,
Shal neuere do synne ne almesdede.
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(13)
¶ Mayntene not wrong, to calle it ryȝt.
Vengeaunce and mercy, neyȝebores ben þo.
As messageres þey ben dyȝt,
Mercy to frend, vengeaunce to foo.
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Ȝoure dede in derk, y se in syȝt;
Þere nys nó þouȝt hid me fro.
After þy dede, þe doom is dyȝt.
Vengeaunce and mercy departeþ hem so.
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(14)
¶ For my doom is riȝtwisnesse;
Riȝtwys longeþ to þe godhede;
And my sones dom is wys,
For mercy longeþ to þe manhede.
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