| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | ||
“Merci,” seide Bernard, “heuene queene,
Þou hast so muche me i-told!
Ȝit þer is wel more I-sene,
Þat ful fayn witen I wold:
Hou bar my lord him, ladi schene,
A-Mong þe Iewes breme and bold?
His harde peynes alle be-dene
But þou me teche, myn herte is cold.
Þou hast so muche me i-told!
Ȝit þer is wel more I-sene,
310
Hou bar my lord him, ladi schene,
A-Mong þe Iewes breme and bold?
His harde peynes alle be-dene
But þou me teche, myn herte is cold.
“Ladi, of þe and of þi childe
I wolde wite a more strif:
What dude my lord meke and mylde
To þe endyng of his lyf?
I haue seȝen séé and watres wylde,
Stremes and wawes two and fyue;
Swete ladi, from schome vs schylde
And to riȝte hauene þou [do] vs ryue!
I wolde wite a more strif:
What dude my lord meke and mylde
To þe endyng of his lyf?
I haue seȝen séé and watres wylde,
Stremes and wawes two and fyue;
Swete ladi, from schome vs schylde
And to riȝte hauene þou [do] vs ryue!
“I haue seȝen men þat nolde not loute
Til þat þei þe harde I-seȝe,
And siþen for drede of deþes doute
Heore herte a-rysen vp an hiȝe.
Whon his enemys were him a-boute,
Hou miȝt he al heor scornyng driȝe?
In his face þei spitte and spoute:
Whi wolde he suffre þat vilenye?”
Til þat þei þe harde I-seȝe,
And siþen for drede of deþes doute
Heore herte a-rysen vp an hiȝe.
Whon his enemys were him a-boute,
Hou miȝt he al heor scornyng driȝe?
In his face þei spitte and spoute:
Whi wolde he suffre þat vilenye?”
| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | ||