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.
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.’
