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The poems of John Audelay

Edited with introduction, notes and glossary [by Ella Keats Whiting]
Audelay, John

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Audite hec, omnes gentes: hanc epistolam scripsit Dominus Ihesus Christus manibus suis et misit in siuitatem Gazon vbi ego Petrus primum episcopatum accepi.
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In die epephanis &c.
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211

51

Timor mortis conturbat me.

Lade, helpe! Ihesu, merce!
Timor mortis conturbat me.
Dred of deþ, sorow of syn,
Trobils my hert ful greuysly;
My soule hit nyþ with my lust þen;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Fore blyndnes is a heue þyng,
And to be def þer-with only,
To lese my lyȝt and my heryng;
Passio Christi conforta me.
And to lese my tast and my smellyng,
And to be seke in my body,
Here haue I lost al my lykyng;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Þus God He ȝeues and takys away,
And as He wil so mot hit be;
His name be blessid boþ nyȝt and daye;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Here is a cause of gret mornyng;
Of myselfe no þyng I se,
Saue filþ, vnclennes, vile stynkyng;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Into þis word no more I broȝt,
No more I gete with me trewly,
Saue good ded, word, wil, and þoȝt;
Passio Christi conforta me.
212

The v wondis of Ihesu Crist,
My midsyne now mot þai be,
Þe fyndis pouere downe to cast;
Passio Christi conforta me.
As I lay seke in my langure,
With sorow of hert and teere of ye,
Þis caral I made with gret doloure;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Oft with þese prayere I me blest,
In manus tuas Domine,
Þou take my soule into þi rest;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Mare moder, merceful may,
Fore þe ioys þou hadist, lady,
Of þi Sun fore me þou pray;
Passio Christi conforta me.
Lerne þis lesson of blynd Awdlay:
When bale is hyest þen bot may be,
Ȝif þou be nyd nyȝt or day,
Say passio Christi conforta me.
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