| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | ||
Þe vois þenne of vre heuene kyng
Ouer al þe peynes was herd seying:
“What good ha ȝe don herbifore
Þat ȝe aske reste so sore?
I was don on cros for ȝou wiþ dere
And smiten wiþ a ful scharp spere,
I-nayled also wiþ nayles þree,
Eysel and Galle to drynke bode me;
I ȝaf my-self for ȝou to be,
ffor ȝe schulde ouer come wiþ me.
Bote ȝe weore þeues, coueytous,
Proude and wroþe and envyous,
Good neuer nolde ȝe do non
Ne to schrift nolde ȝe not gon,
Ne do penaunce for no þing
Wiþ Almusdedes ne wiþ fastyng,
But ȝe weore lyȝers al ȝor lyf
And liueden euere in serwe and strif.”
Ouer al þe peynes was herd seying:
“What good ha ȝe don herbifore
Þat ȝe aske reste so sore?
I was don on cros for ȝou wiþ dere
And smiten wiþ a ful scharp spere,
I-nayled also wiþ nayles þree,
Eysel and Galle to drynke bode me;
I ȝaf my-self for ȝou to be,
ffor ȝe schulde ouer come wiþ me.
Bote ȝe weore þeues, coueytous,
Proude and wroþe and envyous,
Good neuer nolde ȝe do non
Ne to schrift nolde ȝe not gon,
Ne do penaunce for no þing
Wiþ Almusdedes ne wiþ fastyng,
But ȝe weore lyȝers al ȝor lyf
And liueden euere in serwe and strif.”
| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | ||