The Minor Poems of John Lydgate edited from all available mss. with an attempt to establish The Lydgate Canon: By Henry Noble MacCracken |
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The Minor Poems of John Lydgate | ||
1
y]E holy prestes, remembreth in your herte,Toward masse when ye do yow dresse,
With loue and drede furst mekely doth aduerte
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The gostly tresour, the heuynly gret rychesse,
Good incomparable, who can aryght conceyue,
Quaketh for drede, trembleth with mekenesse,
Lord of lordys when ye shall receyue.
2
Next remembreth on that other sydeGayne hys goodnesse, youre gret iniquite,
Peyseth hys mekenesse ageyne your froward pryde,
Voydeth all rancour, thynke on his charyte,
Weyeth his pacience ayenst your cruelte,
Shryuen and contryte aforn with humble entent,
Seye, “Iesu Mercy,” knelyng on your kne,
Or ye receue that holy sacrament.
3
Bethe wysely ware, and taketh good heede,Of no presumpsion nor wilfull hardynesse,
Take nat on yow that offyce but with drede,
With contryte hert your surfettes doth oppresse,
Late byttyr teares wasshe your wykydnesse,
With wepyng eyen scowre your conscience,
Than receyueth with spirituall gladnesse
The lord of lordes of most magnificence.
4
Ye byn eke holde to do your diligenceWith wyt and mynde and all your gostly peyne
To pray for all, present and in absence,
Vnto that lord of lordes most souereyne,
Callyd chyef welle and condute, in certeyne,
Of grace and vertew, as clerkes can descryue,
And that ye may his mercy sone atteyne,
Goyng to masse, thynke on hys woundys fyue.
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5
Ye shall also most louyngly remembreVppon hys most peynfull passyoun,
Howe he was hurt and bled in euery membre,
Suffryd dethe for your redempcioun,
Yeueth thanke to hym of humble affeccioun
Whyche for your sake was woundyd on hys syde,
Beseketh that lord of mercy and pardoun,
In parfyte charyte, long with yow to abyde.
6
Next, that ye haue a gostly appetyte,By influence oonly of his grace,
In hym alone to set all youre delyte,
With feruent loue, your ioy and your solace,
In youre hert make hys dwellyng place
For your eternall consolacion,
Lat hym nat out of youre mynde pas,
Repast of aungelles in the heuynly mansyon.
Explicit.
The Minor Poems of John Lydgate | ||