 | The Harley Lyrics |  |
46
13 AN OLD MAN'S PRAYER
Heȝe Louerd, þou here my bone,
þat madest middelert ant mone,
ant mon of murþes munne.
Trusti kyng ant trewe in trone,
þat þou be wiþ me sahte sone,
asoyle me of sunne.
ffol ich wes in folies fayn,
in luthere lastes y am layn,
þat makeþ myn þryftes þunne,
þat semly sawes wes woned to seyn.
Nou is marred al my meyn,
away is al my wunne.
þat madest middelert ant mone,
ant mon of murþes munne.
Trusti kyng ant trewe in trone,
þat þou be wiþ me sahte sone,
asoyle me of sunne.
ffol ich wes in folies fayn,
in luthere lastes y am layn,
þat makeþ myn þryftes þunne,
þat semly sawes wes woned to seyn.
Nou is marred al my meyn,
away is al my wunne.
Vnwunne haueþ myn wonges wet,
þat makeþ me rouþes rede.
Ne semy nout þer y am set,
þer me calleþ me fulle-flet
ant waynoun wayteglede.
þat makeþ me rouþes rede.
Ne semy nout þer y am set,
þer me calleþ me fulle-flet
ant waynoun wayteglede.
Whil ich wes in wille wolde,
in vch a bour among þe bolde
yholde wiþ þe heste;
nou y may no fynger folde,
lutel loued ant lasse ytolde,
yleued wiþ þe leste.
A goute me haþ ygreyþed so
ant oþer eueles monye mo;
y not whet bote is beste.
Þar er wes wilde ase þe ro
nou y swyke, y mei nout so,
hit siweþ me so faste.
in vch a bour among þe bolde
yholde wiþ þe heste;
nou y may no fynger folde,
lutel loued ant lasse ytolde,
yleued wiþ þe leste.
A goute me haþ ygreyþed so
ant oþer eueles monye mo;
y not whet bote is beste.
Þar er wes wilde ase þe ro
nou y swyke, y mei nout so,
hit siweþ me so faste.
ffaste y wes on horse heh
ant werede worly wede;
nou is faren al my feh,
wiþ serewe þat ich hit euer seh,
a staf ys nou my stede.
ant werede worly wede;
nou is faren al my feh,
wiþ serewe þat ich hit euer seh,
a staf ys nou my stede.
When y se steden styþe in stalle
ant y go haltinde in þe halle,
myn huerte gynneþ to helde.
Þat er wes wildest inwiþ walle
nou is vnder fote yfalle
ant mey no fynger felde.
Þer ich wes luef icham ful loht,
ant alle myn godes me atgoht,
myn gomenes waxeþ gelde.
Þat feyre founden me mete ant cloht,
hue wrieþ awey as hue were wroht;
such is euel ant elde.
ant y go haltinde in þe halle,
myn huerte gynneþ to helde.
Þat er wes wildest inwiþ walle
nou is vnder fote yfalle
ant mey no fynger felde.
47
ant alle myn godes me atgoht,
myn gomenes waxeþ gelde.
Þat feyre founden me mete ant cloht,
hue wrieþ awey as hue were wroht;
such is euel ant elde.
Euel ant elde ant oþer wo
foleweþ me so faste
me þunkeþ myn herte brekeþ atuo.
Suete God, whi shal hit swo?
Hou mai hit lengore laste?
foleweþ me so faste
me þunkeþ myn herte brekeþ atuo.
Suete God, whi shal hit swo?
Hou mai hit lengore laste?
Whil mi lif wes luþer ant lees;
Glotonie mi glemon wes,
wiþ me he wonede a while;
Prude wes my plowe-fere,
Lecherie my lauendere;
wiþ hem is Gabbe ant Gyle.
Coueytise myn keyes bere,
Niþe ant Onde were mi fere,
þat bueþ folkes fyle;
Lyare wes mi latymer,
Sleuthe ant Slep mi bedyuer,
þat weneþ me vmbe while.
Glotonie mi glemon wes,
wiþ me he wonede a while;
Prude wes my plowe-fere,
Lecherie my lauendere;
wiþ hem is Gabbe ant Gyle.
Coueytise myn keyes bere,
Niþe ant Onde were mi fere,
þat bueþ folkes fyle;
Lyare wes mi latymer,
Sleuthe ant Slep mi bedyuer,
þat weneþ me vmbe while.
Vmbe while y am to wene,
when y shal murþes meten.
Monne mest y am to mene;
Lord, þat hast me lyf to lene,
such lotes lef me leten.
when y shal murþes meten.
Monne mest y am to mene;
Lord, þat hast me lyf to lene,
such lotes lef me leten.
Such lyf ich haue lad fol ȝore.
Merci, Louerd, y nul namore;
bowen ichulle to bete.
Syker hit siweþ me ful sore,
gabbes les ant luþere lore;
sunnes bueþ vnsete.
Godes heste ne huld y noht,
bote euer aȝeyn is wille y wroht;
mon lereþ me to lete.
Such serewe haþ myn sides þurhsoht
þat al y weolewe away to noht
when y shal murþes mete.
Merci, Louerd, y nul namore;
bowen ichulle to bete.
Syker hit siweþ me ful sore,
gabbes les ant luþere lore;
sunnes bueþ vnsete.
Godes heste ne huld y noht,
bote euer aȝeyn is wille y wroht;
mon lereþ me to lete.
Such serewe haþ myn sides þurhsoht
þat al y weolewe away to noht
when y shal murþes mete.
48
To mete murþes ich wes wel fous
ant comely mon ta calle
(y sugge by oþer ase bi ous)
alse ys hirmon halt in hous,
ase heued-hount in halle.
ant comely mon ta calle
(y sugge by oþer ase bi ous)
alse ys hirmon halt in hous,
ase heued-hount in halle.
Dredful deþ, why wolt þou dare?
Bryng þis body þat is so bare
ant yn bale ybounde.
Careful mon ycast in care,
y falewe as flour ylet forþfare,
ychabbe myn deþes wounde.
Murþes helpeþ me no more;
help me, Lord, er þen ich hore,
ant stunt my lyf a stounde.
Þat ȝokkyn haþ yȝyrned ȝore,
nou hit sereweþ him ful sore,
ant bringeþ him to grounde.
Bryng þis body þat is so bare
ant yn bale ybounde.
Careful mon ycast in care,
y falewe as flour ylet forþfare,
ychabbe myn deþes wounde.
Murþes helpeþ me no more;
help me, Lord, er þen ich hore,
ant stunt my lyf a stounde.
Þat ȝokkyn haþ yȝyrned ȝore,
nou hit sereweþ him ful sore,
ant bringeþ him to grounde.
To grounde hit haueþ him ybroht;
whet ys þe beste bote
bote heryen him þat haht vs boht,
vre Lord þat al þis world haþ wroht,
ant fallen him to fote?
whet ys þe beste bote
bote heryen him þat haht vs boht,
vre Lord þat al þis world haþ wroht,
ant fallen him to fote?
Nou icham to deþe ydyht,
ydon is al my dede.
God vs lene of ys lyht
þat we of sontes habben syht
ant heuene to mede!
ydon is al my dede.
God vs lene of ys lyht
þat we of sontes habben syht
ant heuene to mede!
Amen.
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