 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
82. Her Son Recovers Us from Adam's Fall
Ihc
Tydyngis, tydyngis þat be trwe,
Sorowe ys paste and Ioye dothe renwe.
Tydyngis, tydyngis þat be trwe,
Sorowe ys paste and Ioye dothe renwe.
Qwhereas Adam cawsed be synne
Owre nature thus to be mortall,
A maydene sone dothe now begyne
ffor to repoyse vs frome þat fall,
And þat ys trwe—
The name of hyme ys Cryste Ihū.
Owre nature thus to be mortall,
A maydene sone dothe now begyne
ffor to repoyse vs frome þat fall,
And þat ys trwe—
The name of hyme ys Cryste Ihū.
Sume of oure kynde hathe hadd suche grase
That syne hys byrthe they dyd hyme se—
Bothe sonne and mother, fase to fase—
In þe chefe Cyte calde Iude,
And þat ys trwe—
bothe kyngis and shepardes þey yt knwe.
That syne hys byrthe they dyd hyme se—
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In þe chefe Cyte calde Iude,
And þat ys trwe—
bothe kyngis and shepardes þey yt knwe.
The prophettis þer-of ware no þyng dysmayde
Of þat tydyngis before þat þey hadde tolde,
ffor nowe yt ys fall ryȝthe as þey sayde:
A clene mayde hathe borne a kynge,
And þat ys trwe—
ffor he ys borne to ware þe purpull hwe.
Of þat tydyngis before þat þey hadde tolde,
ffor nowe yt ys fall ryȝthe as þey sayde:
A clene mayde hathe borne a kynge,
And þat ys trwe—
ffor he ys borne to ware þe purpull hwe.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |