 | Die Gedichte des Franziskaners Jakob Ryman |  |
XLIV. Ther is a chielde, a heuenly childe
I-borne this nyght of Marie myelde.
1
This chielde is, was and ay shall be,One in godhede, in persones thre.
There is a childe, a heuenly childe.
2
This chielde is named Criste Ihesus,That nowe is borne for loue of vs.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
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3
Mortall nature this chielde hath takeOf oure thraldome vs free to make.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
4
This chielde is god and man alsoNow borne to bringe vs out of wo.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
5
His fader is god of heven blis,And virgyne Mary his moder is.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
6
Fro heven to erthe this chielde come isTo suffre dethe for mannys mys.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
7
On good friday vppon the roodeTo save mankyende he shed his bloode.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
8
This chielde was dede and in graue layeAnd rose ayene on the thirde daye.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
9
By his grete myght to blis he stideAnd sittith on his faders right side.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
10
Whenne he shalle come and iugement make,To blis with hym this chielde vs take.
There is a chield, a heuenly chield.
| Die Gedichte des Franziskaners Jakob Ryman | |