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The poems of John Audelay

Edited with introduction, notes and glossary [by Ella Keats Whiting]

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10

Quomodo Dominus Ihesus Christus apparuit Sancto Gregorio in tale effugie.

Apon a day Saynt Gregore
Song his mas at Rome truly;
Crist to him he con apere
In þe fegure of his autere;
Þen Gregore had conpassion,
And grawntis xiij þousand ȝere of pardon,

80

And oþer bischops mone mo
Grawntyd more pardon þer-to;
Þe now[m]bur hit is of al e-fere,
Xx.iij and vj days and xxx.vj ȝere.
Say v pater noster and v aue,
In reuerens of þis hole pete,
With good herd and deuocion,
In worchip of His passion,
Knelyng down apon ȝour kne,
Askyng grace of þis pete.
Ȝif ȝe be out of dedle syn,
Þen þis pardon may ȝe wyn,
In what plase hit payntid is,
Þe same pardon þer-to þer is;
Þen loke þou say anon
Dewowtle þis confession.
De confesione generali.
Swete Ihesu Crist to þe,
Coubabil wreche Y ȝild me;
Of al þe syns I haue e-do
In al my lyue heder-to,
In prid[e], in wraþ, and in enuy,
In lechore and in glotony,
In slouþ, Lord, in þi seruyce,
And in þi worldis couetyse;
To oft I haue in my lyue
I-synnud with my wyttis fyue;
With eren her, with eyne-syȝt,
With synful speche day and nyȝt,
With clepyng and with cussyng bo,
With hond e-handild, with fete e-go,
With hert synfulli I haue þoȝt,
With al my bodi mys e-wroȝt,

81

Here of al my foly,
Lord, merce to þe I cry.
Ale þaȝ I haue synyd euer,
Lord, I foresoke þe neuer;
No noþer God toke I non,
Fader of heuen, bot þe al-one,
Here-fore, Fader, I þe beseche,
Ryȝt with hertful speche,
Þat þou ȝif me no mede
After my synful dede.
Bot, Lord, fore þi gret mercy,
Haue reuþ and pete apon me,
And send me here oft er Y dye
Sorou of hert with tere of ye,
And let me neuer heft begyn
Fore to do no dedle syn,
So at myn endyng day
Clene of syn dey I may,
With schryft and housil at myn end,
So þat my soule mai wynd
Into þat blis withoutyn pere,
Þer ȝe dwel, Lord and Syre, Amen.
Loke ȝe say þis oresoun
Dewoutle with deuocion.
Quomodo Ihesus in cruce rogabat Patrem pro inimicis. Oracio.
O [L]ord Ihesu Crist hongyng on cros,
Fore our syn I wot hit was,
Þer þou praydist þi Fader al-hone
To foreȝif þyn enmys euerechon;
I beseche þe fore þat hole word,
Foreȝif myn enmys, Y pray þe, Lorde,
þat han trespassid here to me,
And grawnt ham loue and charyte,
I pray þe, Lord, þat hit so be,
And þat ȝe wil foreȝif me. Amen.