Now from that londe that cleped ys helle,
Worthy lord, rescue now thow me,
So that I maye euer with the dwelle
Thorough Parce michi, domine!
Line 684
Here endeth the ix lessons of the Dirige, which
Yob made in his tribulacion.
XXVI. Here begynneth a tretyse of Parce michi, domine.
[Douce 322, leaf 15.] [19 stanzas of 8, 12 or 16, in alternates.] [A picture comes here of a man lying in a field under a tree. A dejected-looking bird stands near, with a scroll coming from its mouth, on which are the words "Parce michi."—A. F. P.]
(1)
By a forest syde, walkyng as I went,
Disporte to take, in o mornyng,
A place I fonde shadyd with bowes I-bent,
Y-set aboute with floures so swete smellyng.
Line 4
I leyde me doune apon that grene,
And caste myn eyen me aboute;
I fonde there byrdys with feders shene,
Many oon sittyng apon a rowte.
Line 8
Oon byrde there-by sate on a brere:
Here federes were pulled, she myght nat fle.
She sate and sange with mornyng chere,
"Parce michi, domine!
Line 12
(2)
Spare me, lorde, kyng of pyte,"
Thus seyng thys byrde in pore aray;
"My myrthe ys go, and my iolyte,
I may nat fle as other may.
Line 16
My federes shene bene pulled me fro,
My youth, my streyngthe, and my beawte.
Wher-thorough I take thys songe me to: [folio 15b]
Parce michi, domine!"
Line 20
(3)
When I herde thys mornyng song,
I drewe to thys byrde nere and nere,
