 | The Harley Lyrics |  |
56
20 DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE VIRGIN AND CHRIST ON THE CROSS
‘Stond wel, moder, vnder rode,
byholt þy sone wiþ glade mode,
blyþe, moder, myht þou be!’
‘Sone, hou shulde y bliþe stonde?
Y se þin fet, y se þin honde
nayled to þe harde tre.’
byholt þy sone wiþ glade mode,
blyþe, moder, myht þou be!’
‘Sone, hou shulde y bliþe stonde?
Y se þin fet, y se þin honde
nayled to þe harde tre.’
‘Moder, do wey þy wepinge.
Y þole deþ for monkynde,
for my gult þole y non.’
‘Sone, y fele þe dedestounde,
þe suert is at myn herte grounde
þat me byhet Symeon.’
Y þole deþ for monkynde,
for my gult þole y non.’
‘Sone, y fele þe dedestounde,
þe suert is at myn herte grounde
þat me byhet Symeon.’
‘Moder, merci! Let me deye,
for Adam out of helle beye
ant his kun þat is forlore.’
‘Sone, what shal me to rede?
My peyne pyneþ me to dede.
Lat me deȝe þe byfore.’
for Adam out of helle beye
ant his kun þat is forlore.’
‘Sone, what shal me to rede?
My peyne pyneþ me to dede.
Lat me deȝe þe byfore.’
‘Moder, þou rewe al of þi bern,
þou wosshe awai þe blody tern;
hit doþ me worse þen my ded.’
‘Sone, hou may y teres werne?
Y se þe blody stremes erne
from þin herte to my fet.’
þou wosshe awai þe blody tern;
hit doþ me worse þen my ded.’
‘Sone, hou may y teres werne?
Y se þe blody stremes erne
from þin herte to my fet.’
‘Moder, nou y may þe seye,
betere is þat ich one deye
þen al monkunde to helle go.’
‘Sone, y se þi bodi byswngen,
fet ant honden þourhout stongen;
no wonder þah me be wo!’
betere is þat ich one deye
þen al monkunde to helle go.’
‘Sone, y se þi bodi byswngen,
fet ant honden þourhout stongen;
no wonder þah me be wo!’
‘Moder, now y shal þe telle,
ȝef y ne deȝe, þou gost to helle;
y þole ded for þine sake.’
‘Sone, þou art so meke ant mynde,
ne wyt me naht, hit is my kynde
þat y for þe þis sorewe make.’
ȝef y ne deȝe, þou gost to helle;
y þole ded for þine sake.’
‘Sone, þou art so meke ant mynde,
ne wyt me naht, hit is my kynde
þat y for þe þis sorewe make.’
57
‘Moder, nou þou miht wel leren
whet sorewe haueþ þat children beren,
whet sorewe hit is wiþ childe gon.’
‘Sorewe ywis y con þe telle;
bote hit be þe pyne of helle,
more serewe wot y non.’
whet sorewe haueþ þat children beren,
whet sorewe hit is wiþ childe gon.’
‘Sorewe ywis y con þe telle;
bote hit be þe pyne of helle,
more serewe wot y non.’
‘Moder, rew of moder kare,
for nou þou wost of moder fare,
þou þou be clene mayden-mon.’
‘Sone, help at alle nede
alle þo þat to me grede,
maiden, wif, ant fol wymmon.’
for nou þou wost of moder fare,
þou þou be clene mayden-mon.’
‘Sone, help at alle nede
alle þo þat to me grede,
maiden, wif, ant fol wymmon.’
‘Moder, may y no lengore duelle,
þe time is come y shal to helle;
þe þridde day y ryse vpon.’
‘Sone, y wil wiþ þe founden,
y deye ywis for þine wounden,
so soreweful ded nes neuer non.’
þe time is come y shal to helle;
þe þridde day y ryse vpon.’
‘Sone, y wil wiþ þe founden,
y deye ywis for þine wounden,
so soreweful ded nes neuer non.’
When he ros, þo fel hire sorewe,
hire blisse sprong þe þridde morewe.
Blyþe, moder, were þou þo!
Leuedy, for þat ilke blisse,
bysech þi sone of sunnes lisse;
þou be oure sheld aȝeyn oure fo!
hire blisse sprong þe þridde morewe.
Blyþe, moder, were þou þo!
Leuedy, for þat ilke blisse,
bysech þi sone of sunnes lisse;
þou be oure sheld aȝeyn oure fo!
Blessed be þou, ful of blysse.
Let vs neuer heuene misse,
þourh þi suete sones myht!
Louerd, for þat ilke blod
þat þou sheddest on þe rod,
þou bryng vs into heuene lyht.
Let vs neuer heuene misse,
þourh þi suete sones myht!
Louerd, for þat ilke blod
þat þou sheddest on þe rod,
þou bryng vs into heuene lyht.
Amen.
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