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 | The Wheatley Manuscript |  |
106
Domine, exaudi oracionem meam. Auribus percipe obsecracionem meam in ueritate tua, & exaudi me in tua iusticia.
Wiþ eeris my preyer þou perseyue,
In soþfastnes þou heere my soun,
And in þi riȝt þou it resseyue!
Ihesu, þat regnest in þi regyoun,
For hir loue þat þee can [con]seyue,
Late neuere þe feend us drawe doun,
Ne dreedful deuel us disseyue!
107
Et non intres in iudicium cum seruo tuo, quia non iustificabitur in conspectu tuo [omnis uiuens].
For no lijf schal be iustifyed
In þi siȝt, ne nouȝt [þ]e faunt
That þis day first in cradil cried.
For us schal plete no seriaunt,
Al sotilte schal ben a-spyed;
So wel is hym þat kepiþ couena[un]t,
For word and werk al schal be tryed.
108
Quia persecutus est inimicus meus animam meam, humiliauit in terra [uitam meam].
My soule, and lowide my lijf in lond,
For, [when] I myȝte synne haue eschewid,
My wil to wi[r]k[e] wolde I not wond.
But, Lord Ihesu, þat art endewid
Wiþ grace, þou brynge me out of boond,
And sende me grace to be vertued,
So þat I may þe feend wiþstoond.
109
Collocauit me in obscuris, sicut mortuos seculi. Et anxiatus est super [me spiritus meus; in me turbatum est cor meum].
As þei þat in þis world ben dede;
My goost was greeuyd vpon me,
Astonyed was myn herte for drede.
This ilke sorowe anoon I se,
Whanne I haue doon a deedly deede;
Therfore, Ihesu ful of pytee,
In þis myscheef me rule and rede!
110
Memor fui dierum antiquorum; meditatus sum in omnibus operibus tuis; in factis manuum tuarum meditabar.
Of alle þi werkis I me biþouȝte,
How synfully þat Iudas soolde
Hym þat [þis world with hondis] wrouȝt.
With greet penaunce gaderide his foolde
That scheparde þat oure soulis bouȝt;
Þe cumfort of oure cares coolde,
Of [C]rist it cam, for he it brouȝt.
111
Expandi manus meas ad te; anima mea sicut terra sine aqua tibi.
My soule is lijk lond watirlees;
I may not wepe, I am so badde,
So bareyn and so sorowlees.
Synne constreyneþ me ful sadde;
Therfore I preye þe, prince of pees,
Helpe me þat I summe teris hadde,
That goostly fruyte [myȝte haue] encrees.
112
Uelociter exaudi me, Domine; defecit spiritus meus.
The goost of me forsoþe haþ failid,
For I haue ben ful looþ to lerne
Þing þat myȝte me haue avayled;
But, Lord, þat openest þi posterne
For hem þat for þee han trauaylid,
I hope þou wilt no bonde sperne,
Þat is wiþ sorowe of synne assayled.
113
Ne auertas faciem tuam a me, & similis ero descendentibus in lacum.
I schal be lijk hem þat fallen in lake.
Þe dampnyd men may wel sey so,
That are bitauȝt þe feendis blake.
But lete me, Lord, be noon of þo;
Thinke how þou diedist for my sake,
And graunte me grace, eer þat I go,
Of my trespas amendis make.
114
Auditam fac michi mane misericordiam tuam, quia in te speraui.
For I haue had on þee myn hope.
Helpe þat I were out of [h]orowe,
And alle þat þere-ynne are lope.
Lord, þou suffridist schame & sorowe,
And bled[dist] manye a blody drope;
Fro goostli bondis þou me borowe,
That I were out of synne crope.
115
Notam fac michi uiam in qua ambulem, quia ad te leuaui animam meam.
For I my soule to þee haue lift;
Þis worldis welþe haþ [soone] an eende,
And takiþ a-wey [a] mannys þrift.
Þerfore, Ihesu curteys and kynde,
Whos herte was on cros [y]-clift,
Late neuere feend oure paþis blende,
Ne us bitraye neuere eft!
116
Eripe me de inimicis meis, Domine, ad te confugi; doce me facere voluntatem [tuam, quia Deus meus es tu].
For strengþe to þee fled am I;
Teche me þi wille to fulfille,
For-whi þou art my God oonli.
Down myn enemyes þou felle;
Resseyue me, Lord, to þi mercy,
That I may dreedlees in þee dwelle,
And þou, Lord, in me eendeleesly.
117
Spiritus tuus bonus deducet me in terram rectam. Propter nomen tu[um, Domine, uiuificabis me, in equitate tua].
Streiȝt in-to þe lond of riȝt,
And, for þi name in riȝtfulheede,
Thou schalt me make qwike & liȝt.
Þanne schal I dwelle[n] out of dreede
Where euere is day and neuere nyȝt,
For grisly goost schal þere noon grede
O[n] hem þat ben in blis[se] briȝt.
118
Educes de tribulacione animam meam; & in misericordia tua disperdes omnes inimicos meos.
Wiþ mercy my foo-men disp[arpl]ye,
And make þe deuel droupe & dare,
That he drawe me to no folye;
And, God, þat I be not [maad] bare
Of alle goodnes þat I can aspie,
[Ȝit], ȝit, Lord, abyde and spare,
Þat I be amendid or I dye.
119
Et perdes omnes qui tribulant animam meam, quoniam ego seruus tuus sum.
My soule, for I serue thee;
Late no more vppon me resen
Þe goostes þat han greeued me;
Sende me grace thee to plesen,
And vouche saaf, whanne doom schal be,
In-to þe kingdom of heuene me sey[s]en;
Þus graunte me, God in Persoonys þre!
| The Wheatley Manuscript | |