This boke is compyled by Dan Iohn Lydgate monke of Burye, at the excitacion [and] styrynge of the noble and victorious prynce, Kynge Henry the fyfthe, i[n] the honoure glorie [and] reuerence of the byrthe of our moste blessed Lady, mayde, wyfe, [and] mother of our lorde Iesu Christe, chapitred as foloweth by this table

¶ Howe our Ladyes frendes wayled and morned whan the Bysshoppes made so stronge a prefe of her virginyte. Capitulo. xxxi. (Book 31)

THan sythen trouthe / may no whyle dare Hornes shrynke / ne hyde hym in his neste But lyke a sonne / his light abrode declare Whan she that was the veray chosen cheste Of all clennesse / and there with all the beste Of all good / howe myght it betyde Her light of vertue / to be sette a syde.

¶ That it nyll shyne / maugre who sayth naye Whan her beames ben openly discured As golde in fyre / fyned by assaye And as the tryed / siluer is depured And she that was in vertue moste assured Where the holy ghoste / his dwellinge dyd sette Howe myght than / ony mystes lette.

¶ The clere light / of her parfytnesse Or ony maner prefe or probacion In ony parte / for to make it lesse For light wyll out / it may not be borne downe And so will trouthe haue dominacion For ony falsenes / that men can conspyre Than she that was so fully sette a fyre.

¶ Of the holy ghoste / ne dare but lytell drede To drynke water / whether it be thyke or clere

To take a pre••e / of her may denhede For her harme / it shall haue no power For to deface her coloure or her there But rather amende more / and clarefye The derke dymmynge / of euery clowde skye

¶ And so Marie standynge in the place And all her frendes about enuyron Where men may se / vpon many a face Of frendely routhe / and compassion The salte teeres / fall and renne downe For drede and loue / they had for to sene So harde assaye / made on her age grene.

¶ But she alwaye / constant as a wall In thought in chere / abasshed neuer a dele Ne in her herte / dredeth nat at all But vpon god / tristeth alwaye wele That he of trouth / shall trye out the stele And by that she spake / but wordes fewe Withouten speche / he shall the dede shewe.

¶ And whan the water fully was confecte Lyke the statute / and the rytes olde T•• Bisshoppe hath the cuppe fyrste directe Unto Ioseph and hym / the parell tolde And manly / he gan it holde And dranke her vp / & chaunged nat his chere And seuen tymes aboute the Aultere.

¶ He went than by custome as he ought.

Of face and colour / alwaye lyke newe And to Marie / also the Bisshope brought A cuppe of water / & she of herte trewe Accepteth eke this godely fresshe of hewe And or she dranke / this holy parfyte mayde All openly thus to god she sayde.