 | [Poems from the Vernon MS] |  |
A non þe soules hedden þer rest—
He ȝaf hit hem þat mihte best.
Þe soules criȝed euerichon:
“Blesset beo þou, lord, sone of mon,
Lord and God of Dauid kuynde!
Þis rest bi þe haue we in Muynde.”—
He ȝaf hit hem þat mihte best.
260
“Blesset beo þou, lord, sone of mon,
Lord and God of Dauid kuynde!
Þis rest bi þe haue we in Muynde.”—
Þerfore, whos halweþ wel þe sonenday,
He schal ha part of þe reste ay
Þat þe Angeles in heuene
Han þere wiþ mylde steuene.
He schal ha part of þe reste ay
Þat þe Angeles in heuene
Han þere wiþ mylde steuene.
Beo war of þe serwe and drede
And of þe peynes þat we her rede,
And torne we in alle wyse
Vr lord to serue, þat hiȝe Iustise;
Bi wȝuche seruyse we may come
To vre lord god and wiþ him wone.
And of þe peynes þat we her rede,
And torne we in alle wyse
Vr lord to serue, þat hiȝe Iustise;
Bi wȝuche seruyse we may come
To vre lord god and wiþ him wone.
| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | |