Companion to the English prose works of Richard Rolle : a selection / from the edition by Carl Horstman.

What þing makeþ mon holi. Capitulum III.

Two þinges wiþ-outen mo makeþ mon holi, þat is to witen Knowynge and Loue. Knowynge of soþnesse, and Loue of godnesse. But to knowyng of God þat is soþnesse, ne maiȝt þou not comen but þorw knowynge of þi-self; no to þe loue of God þat is goodnesse, ne maiȝt þou not comen bot þorw loue of þi neiȝebore. To þe knowyng of þy-self maiȝt þou comen wiþ ofte þenkynge; to þe knowyng of God: wiþ clene contemplacion. To þe knowynge of þi-self þou maiȝt comen in þis Manere: Þenk inwardliche and ofte what þou art, what þou were, and what þou schalt ben. Furst as to þi bodi, after as to þi soule.

As to þi bodi: þou art vilore þen a dongehul. Þou were geten in so gret fulþe þat hit is schome to seye, and wlatful to þenken. Þou scha[l]t be mete to fyle todes and wormes. What þou hast ben and what þou art, nou take god hede as to þi soule—what þou schalt ben, ne maiȝt þou not þenken. Þenk þat þow hast don gret wikkednesses and monye, and leued mony godnesses and grete. Þenk hou longe þou hast liued, and how mony goodnesses þou hast receyued, and hou þou hast hem spendet; ffor whi? eueri houre þat þou hast not þouȝt on god, þou hast forloren. Þou schalt ȝelde reson of eueri idel word and eueri Idel þouht and eueri Idel dede; and also þer nis not an her on þin hed þat ne schal ben glorifyed ȝif hit be so þat þou be saaf, also þer ne schal a-skapen non houre þat ne schal be rikned to þe. A, Ihesu, Merci! Ȝif al þe world weore ful of smale pouder, who miȝte ben so sleiȝ þat miȝte departen vche [mot] bi him-self and taken from oþer? Certes, non. And þe soule of Mon is grettore þen al þe world, þeiȝ hit were a þousend to gret; and is al ful of diuerse þouȝtes, willes and desyres; who miȝte þenne so sechen his herte þat [he] miȝte knowen al þat he haþ don and þouȝt? Se now, goode Broþer, þat þou hast gret mester to knowyng of þi-self. Aftur tac good hede what þou art now as to þi soule. Þou hast luitel good in þe, luitel wit, or strengþe: for whi? þou desyrest al day þat þe helpeþ nouȝt, and seldene or no tyme þat þe may helpen. Þou art often deceyued, now þorw [to] grete serwe, now þorw veyne glorie; now art þow trauayled of fere, now artou houen an heiȝ þorw fals hope. On oþer half þou art so chaungeable, þis þat þou wolt to-day þou wolt not to-morwe. And also þenk what-maner þou art bisi and turmented aboute mony þinges ȝif þou hem ne haue; and whonne þou hem hast, þen artou anuyed and ful of hem. Þenk ȝit on oþur maner þat þou art liht to tempten, and feble forte ȝeynstonden, and redi to concenten. Of alle þeose wikkednesses þe haþ delyuered þi swete lord, & schal delyueren eueri day more and more, ȝif þou hit not fordo.