The Minor Poems of John Lydgate :: :: University of Virginia Library

Man, to refourme thyn exil and thy loos
Fro paradys, place of moost plesaunce,
The to restore, I hange vp-on this Croos,
Crowned with thorn, woundid with a launce,
Handis and ffeet, tencres of my grevaunce,
With sharpe naylles my blood maad renne doun;
Whan-euer thou felyst trouble or perturbaunce,
Looke on my woundis, thynk on my passioun.

217

2

Thynk and remembre vpon my bloody fface,
The reed, the sponge, eysel meynt with galle,
Fel rebukys, O man, ffor thy trespace!
Hatful spittyng on my vysage ffalle,
Kyng of Iewis of scorn they gan me Calle,
Blyndfellid, bobbyd by ffals derysioun;
Man, for þi comfort among þi troublis alle,
Looke on my woundis, thynk on my passioun!

3

Thynk on the veyl that went assonder than,
On Caluary, whan I gaff vp the goost;
Remembre in ffygure vp-on the pellycan
Stonge to the herte, bleedyng in euery coost,
Pale and dedly whan al my blood was loost,
Dyes on my garnement throwen vp & down;
Man, in al myschef, whan thou art troubled most,
Looke on my woundys, thynk on my passioun.

4

The bitter chalis of my mortal suffraunce,
Remembre theron, of frendly kyndenesse,
The rounde ropis streynyng with gret penaunce,
My tendre lemys maad feynt for febylnesse,
Bounde to a peleer by violent sturdynesse,
To make a seeth for thy transgressioun;
For cheef comfort in al wordly dystresse
Remembre among vpon my passioun.

218

5

Cressettys born vp with many gret lanterne,
Swerdis, stavis, scoorges Inportable,
Cryeng terryble, hydous to Dyscerne,
Fals accusacyouns verray Innumerable,
Knyves, pynsouns, hard hameris nat plicable,
Craunpisshed with deth, accused of tresoun;
And sith my deth was to the profytable,
Man thynk among vpon my passioun.

6

The scalyd ladder vp to þe cros strecchyng,
Wich vertuous baner put fendys to þe flight;
Kokkys crowyng, onkynde folk rebukying,
That slombre and slepe þe longe wynteris nyght;
Bit hem a-wake, & with ther Inward sight
Looke on my tormentis, of equyte and resoun,
With goostly gladnesse, to make ther herte light,
Ech hour & moment, thynk on my passioun.

7

Al this was doon, O man, for love of the!
A standard splayed, thy lord slayn in that fight,
On a sepulcre lay closed dayes thre,
Stonys rooff assonder, the sonne lost his lyght,
Helle robbyd thorugh myn Imperyal myght,—
Callyd of Iuda the hardy strong lyoun,—
O man, remembre, I aske of the but ryght,
Gyff me the thank, thynk on my passioun!

219

8

I ffought for the a fful greet batayll,
Ageyn Sathan the tort[u]ous serpent,
Nakyd on the cros withoute plate or mayll,
Bood in the ffeld tyll al my blood was spent;
To wynne thy love this was myn Entent,
On to that ende I was thy Champioun;
To ffynde thy salve my flessh was al to-rent,
Whan thou art woundid, thynk on my passioun.

9

Stood afore bisshopes, ther fond I no respight,
Smet by ther mynystris in the consistorie,
Brouht to Herowdis, sent hom ageyn in whight,
Clad lyk a ffoole, the gospel maketh memorye,
Pilatys wasshing for a fals veynglorye;
Salued a scorn, clad by Collusioun
In purpel hewe, blyndfellid in their pretorie,
Regystre al this, thynk on my passioun.

10

And, but thow do, sothly thow art onkynde;
Be lawe of resoun preved inexcusable,
Alle these tokenys enprente hem in þi mende,
Geyn euery-thyng that in þe is coupable,
Blood and water ben bycours most vaylable,
To wasshe of synne all old corrupcyoun,
Water of baptem, most gracious & notable,
Meynt with the blood of my fel passioun.

220

11

Of thes two lycours kam al þe sacrementis,
In noumbre sevene, by Computacyoun,
To alle that folwe my ten comaundementis,
Reffuge ordeyned to ther salvacyoun,
For hooly churche took first fundacyoun,
Whan Longious spere thorugh myn herte Ran,
And blood & water went be my sides doun,
Tyme of my passioun, þe byldyng first began.

12

Consummatum est, said whan al was doo,
The theef of paradis maad a Cyteseyn,
I Callyd Goddys Sone be Centuryo,
Of Ioseph buryed thre dayes, in serteyn,
Lay in my grave, and Marie Mawdeleyn
Waytyng devoutly my Resurecyoun;
Thynk, with al this, how Adam was ageyn
Restoryd to Ioie thorugh my meek passioun.

13

Tokenys palpable, cleer as the sonne-beem,
Were in that hour shewed ageyn nature,
Whan bodyes roos, kam to Ierusaleem,
Ther bonys Ioyned, out of ther sepulture,
Lyfly apperid to many a cryature;
Pilat also, as maad ys mencyoun,
Wroot dyuerse lettirs, merveyllous of scripture,
Greek, Ebrew, Latyn, tyme of my passioun.

14

Man, calle to minde, and meekly do aduerte,
How Symeon seide in his prophesye,
A swerd of sorwe sholde perce to the herte,

221

Of my moodir, that Callyd is Marye,
Stood with Seyn Iohn, swowned at Calvarie,
Vnder my cros for febilnesse fyl doun,
Man, at thy lyf, and hour whan þu shalt die,
Geyn froward Sathan, thynk on my passioun.

lenvoye.

Go, lytel bylle, with al humylyte
Hang affore Iesu, that list for man to bleede,
To-fore his cros pray folk that shal the see,
Onys aday this compleynt ffor to reede;
No losse of tyme, thou shalt þe better speede
Redyest weye to ther saluacyoun,
No bettir socour, nor support in your neede,
Than offte thynkyng on Crystys passioun.

Explicit.