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Hoccleve's Works. I.

The minor poems in the Phillipps Ms. 8151 (Cheltenham) and the Durham Ms. III. 9.: Edited by Frederick J. Furnivall

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[VIII.] Ceste balade ensuyante feust faite tost apres que les osses du Koy Richard feurent apportez a Westmouster.
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[VIII.] Ceste balade ensuyante feust faite tost apres que les osses du Koy Richard feurent apportez a Westmouster.

1

Where-as þat this land wont was for to be
Of sad byleeue & constant vnion;
And as þat holy chirche vs taghte / we
With herte buxum lerned our lesson;
Now han we changid our condicion!
Allas! an heep of vs, the feith werreye;
We waden so deepe in presumpcion,
Þat vs nat deyneth vn-to god obeye.

2

We rekken nat thogh Crystes lore deye;
The feend hath maad vs dronke of the poisoun

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Of heresie / & lad vs a wrong weye,
Þat torne shal to our confusioun,
But if þat left be this abusioun.
And yit, seur confort haue I / thynkith me:
Our lige lord, the kyng, is Champioun
For holy chirche / Crystes knyght is he!

3

For why, o reuerent goostly fadres, yee,
And we, your sones eek, han enchesoun
Right greet / to thanke god in Trinitee,
Þat of his grace / hath sent this Regioun
So noble an heed / looke vp, thow Albioun!
God thanke / & for thy cristen Prince preye,
Syn he, fo is to this Rebellioun:
He, of thy soules helthe, is lok and keye!

4

What mighten folk of good byleeue seye,
If bent were our kynges affeccion
To the wrong part / who sholde hem help purueye?
A kyng set in þat wrong opinioun,
Mighte of our feith be the subuersioun;
But eterne god, in persones three,
Hath reyned dropes of conpassioun,
And sent vs our good kyng for our cheertee!

5

See eek how our Kynges benignitee
And louyng herte / his vertu can bywreye.
Our kyng Richard þat was / yee may wel see,
Is nat fled from his remembrance aweye.
My wit souffysith nat to peyse and weye
With what honour he broght is to this toun,
And with his queene at Westmynstre in thabbeye
Solempnely in Toumbe leid adoun.

6

Now god, byseeche I, in conclusioun,
Henri the .V.e in ioie & hy nobleye

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Regne on vs yeeres many a milioun!
And where as þat men erren & forueye,
Walkynge blyndly in the dirk aleye
Of heresie / o lord god, preye I thee,
Enspire hem / þat no lenger they foleie!
To feithes path / hem lede thy pitee!
Amen!