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LIII. ‘Reuert, reuert, reuert, reuert:
O synfull man, geve me thyn hert.’

1

‘Haue myende, howe I mankyende haue take
Of a pure mayde, man, for thy sake,
That were moost bonde, moost fre to make:
O synfull man, geve me thyn hert.

2

Haue myende, thou synfull creature,
I toke baptyme in thy nature
Fro filthe of synne to make the pure:
O synfull man, geve me thyn hert.

3

Haue myende, man, how I toke the felde
Vpon my bak bering my shelde;
For payne ne dethe I wolde not yelde:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

4

Haue myende, I was put on the rode
And for thy sake shedde my hert blode.
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Beholde my payne, beholde my moode:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

5

Beholde myne hede, hande, foote and side,
Beholde my woundes fyve so wyde,
Beholde the payne, that I abyde:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

6

Haue myende, man, how fast I was bounde
For thy sake to a pilloure rounde,
Scorged, till my bloode fell to grounde:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

7

Haue myende, how I in fourme of bred
Haue left my flesshe and blode to wedde
To make the quyk, whenne thou art dedde:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

8

Haue myende, man, how I haue the wrought,
How with my bloode I haue the bought,
And how to blis I haue the brought:
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

9

O synfull man, beholde and see,
What I haue done and do for the:
Yf thou wilte be in blis with me,
O synfull man, yeve me thyn hert.

10

Bothe for my dethe and paynes smert,
That I suffred for thy desert,
I aske nomore, man, but thyne hert:
Reuert, reuert, reuert, reuert.’
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