[Chronicle of Fabyan] :: :: University of Virginia Library

Septima Pars Edwardi .ii.

[Maydens of Englonde sore maye ye morne]

Maydens of Englonde sore maye ye morne
For your Lemmans ye haue loste at Bannockisborne.
With heue a lowe.
What wenyth the Kynge of Englonde
So soone to haue wonne Scotlande.
With Rumbylowe.

[With Ropes were thou bounde and on the Gallowe honge]

With Ropes were thou bounde and on the Gallowe honge
And from thy Body thyne hed with Swerde was Kytte
Thy bowellys in the Fyre were throwe and burnyd longe
Thy Body in .iiii. pecys Eke with an are was slytte
With horse before drawyn fewe men pyteynge it
Thus with these Turmentys for thy synnys sake
From the wretchyd Hugh all wordly welthe was take.

[Whan Saturne with his colde Isy face]

Whan Saturne with his colde Isy face
The grounde with his Frostys turnyth the grene to whyte
The tyme of Wynter which Trees doth deface
And causyth all verdure to avoyde quyte
Than fortune whiche sharpe was with stormys not alyte
Hath me assautyd with hir frowarde wyll
And me beclypped with daungerous ritght yll

What man in this worlde is so wyse or fayre
So prudent so vertuose or famouse vnder thayre
But that for a foole and for a man dyspysed
Shalbe take whan fortune is from hym deuyded

Alas now I crye but no man doth me moone
For I sue to them that pytye of me haue noone
Many with great honours I dyd whylom auaunce
That nowe with dyshonoure doon me stynge and launce
And such as some tyme dyd me greatly feere
Me dyspyse and let not with sclaunder me to deere

O mercyfull God what loue they dyd me shewe
And with detraccion they do me hacke and hewe
Alas moste Synfull wretche why shulde I thus complayne
If God be pleasyd that I shulde thus susteyne
For the great offence before by me doone
Wherefore to the good Lorde I wyll retourne eftesoone
And hooly cōmytte me thy great mercy vntyll
And take in pacyence all that may be thy wyll
And all onely the serue with all dylygence
Alas that before this tyme I had not that cence
But nowe good Lorde which arte omnypotent
Beholde me mooste wretchyd and greatly penytent
And of my trespace forgyuenes thou me graunt
And by what sorowe my Carkes is now daunt
Graunt it may be to my Sowle remedy
That the sooner I may attayne it by
For to the swete Ihesu I yelde my sore wepynge
And aske of the pardon for my greuouse Synnynge.

Moost blessyd Ihesu
Roote of all Uertue
Graunt I may the sue
In all humylyte

Sen thou for our good
Lyste to shede thy blood
And stretche the vpon the Roood
For our Iniquite.

And thou moost mylde Mother and vyrgyn moost pure
That barest swete Ihesu the worldys Redempture
That shynyst and florysshed as Flowre moost sure
And lyke as Nardus of his Swete odoure
Passyth all other so thou in all Honoure
Surmountys all Sayntis by thy great excellence
Wherefore to praye for my greuouse offence

I the beseche
Moost holsome leche
That thou wylte seche
For me suche grace

That my Body vyle
My sowle shall exyle
Thou brynge in short whyle
It in Rest and peace.