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

O howe holsom and glad is the memorie
Of Cryst Iesu surmountyng all swetnesse,
Name of conquest, of triumphe, & victorie.
Thassaut of Sathan to venquysshe and oppresse

330

To whiche name Seynt Poule bereth wytnesse
Of heuene and erthe, and infernal pouste
Alle creatures of ryght and dewe humblesse,
And of hole herte, bowe shall ther kne.

2

No song so sote vnto the audience
As is Iesus, nor so full of plesaunce,
Ageyn all enemyes sheld, paveys, and defence,
To heuy hertes chief counfort in substaunce;
Of gostly gladnesse most souereyne suffisaunce,
Chief directorie to heveneward the cite,
Gladdest resorte of spirituall remembraunce,
To whome alle creatures bowe shal ther kne.

3

To all folkes þat stonde in repentaunce,
With herte contrite made ther confessioun,
Of wille and thought accomplysshed ther penaunce,
And to ther power done satisfaccioun,
That cleyme by mene of Crystes passioun,
Marked with tav. T. for more suerte,
To them Iesu shall graunte full pardoun
To aske hym mercy, whan thei knele on ther kne.

4

In this name Iesu, most souereyne of vertu,
Stant alle our hope, And alle oure assuraunce,
For where þat euer named is Iesu,
Geyn gostly trouble men fynde allegeaunce;
Who trusteth Iesu may fele no grevaunce,
Whiche from all thraldome brought vs to liberte;
Out of servage he made acquytaunce
To alle that knelen to Iesu on ther kne.

331

5

In Amorous hertes brennyng of kyndenesse
This name Iesu most profoundely doth myne;
Marter Ignacius can beren therof witnesse,
Amyd whos herte, be grace whiche is dyvyne,
With Aureat letteres As gold that dyd shyne,
His herte was graven, men may his legende se,—
To teche alle cristen here hedes to enclyne
To blyssed Iesu, and bowe adovn ther kne.

6

This is the name that chaceth away the clips
Of foreyne dirknesse, as clerkes determyne,
By John remembred in thapocalips,
How lyche a lambe his hede he dyd enclyne,
Whos blood dovn ranne, ryght as ony lyne,
To wasshe the ordures of our Iniquite,
Medeled with water, clere as crystallyne,
Whiche from his herte down rayled by his kne.

7

Be blode Iesus made our redempcioun,
With water of baptem, from felthe wesshe vs clene,
And fro his herte too licours ther ran doun
On Caluerye, the trouthe was weel sene,
Whan that Longious, with a spere kene,
Perced his herte vpon the rode tre;
O man vnkende, thynke what this dothe mene
And vnto Iesu bowe adovne thy kne!

8

Ther is no speche nor language can remembre,
Lettre, sillable, nor word that may expresse,
Though into tunges were turned euery membre
Of man, to telle the excellent noblesse,

332

Of blessed Iesu, which of his gret mekenesse,
List suffre deth to make his servant fre;
Now mercyful Iesu, for thyn hygh goodnesse,
Haue mercy on alle that bowe to the her kne!

9

The prynce was slayne, þe seruaunt went at large,
And to delyuer his soget from prisoun
The lord toke on hym for to bere the charge
To quyte mankynde be oblacioun;
Sealed with .v. woundes he payed our raunsoun,
Man to restore to Parados hys cite,
Is not man bounde, I aske this questioun,
To blessed Iesu for to bowe his kne?

10

Syx hundred tyme with syxty told be noumbre
In Poules pysteles Iesu men may rede,
Multitude of fendes to encoumbre,
To paye oure raunsum his blood he did shede,
Nat a small part but alle he dede out blede,
For Adames appel plukked from the tre,
Iesu deyde, for shame! man, take hede,
Gyf thanke to Iesu, & bowe to hym thy kne,

11

Alle these thynges considered that I tolde,
Man, where-euere thou holdist thy passage,
Toward Iesu alwey that thow beholde,
With eyȝe fyx, loke on hys vysage;
Crovned with thorn, for our gret outrage,
Haue this in mende, & lerne o thyng of me,
That day non enemye shall done vs no damage,
Whan we to Iesu deuoutly bowe our kne.

12

Withinne my closet & my lytel couche,
O blyssed Iesu, And be my beddes syde,

333

That none enemy nor no fende shall me touche,
The name of Iesu with me shall euer abyde;
My lodesterre, and my souereyne guyde,
In this world here both on lond and se,
O Iesu! Iesu! for alle tho folk provyde,
Which to thy name devoutly bowe here kne!

13

With Maria called Maudeleyne,
Erly eche morowe, whil that my lyf may dure,
Fro slouthe & slombre I shal my-self restreyne,
To seke Iesu at his sepulture,
Whom for to fynde if þat I may recure,
To haue possessioun of hym at liberte,
There were in erthe no rycchere creature,
To whom ech wyght bowe shall hys kne.

14

In mercyfull Iesu to putte a veray preef,
Of his mercy, that no man disespeyre,
Vpon the cros gaf graunt onto the theef
To paradys with hym to repayre;
Toke out of helle soules many a peyre,
Maugre Cerberus and all his cruelte,
O gracious Iesu! benygne and debonayre,
Haue mercy on alle that bowe to the her kne.

15

The name of Iesu, swettest of names alle,
Geyn gostly venymes holsomest tryacle,
For who so euer to this name calle,
Of cankered surfetes fynt reles be myracle,
To [eyen] blynde light, lanterne, and spectacle,
And bryghtest merour of alle felicite,
Support and sheld, defence & chief obstacle,
To alle that knele to Iesu on ther kne.

334

16

This roiall name, most souereyne of renoun,
This name Iesus, victorious in batayle,
Of hevenly tryvmphes the laureat guerdoun,
The spiritual palme of gostly apparayle,
Celestial prowesse, whiche may most avayle,
To sitte with aungels in ther eternal se,
The imperyal conquest, nat get with plate or mayle,
But with meke knelyng to Iesu on hir kne.

17

Patriarkes and prophetes, one by one,
Thre Ierarchies, & alle thordres nyne,
Twelve Aposteles, and marteres euerychone,
Holy confessoures, and euery pure virgyne,
To blyssed Iesu most mekely shal enclyne;
Foules, bestes, and ffysshes of the se,
Kynd hath taught hem, by naturall disciplyne,
Mekely to Iesu to bowe adown ther kne.

18

There is no love parfytly Igrounded,
But it on Iesu toke his origenall,
For upon Iesu al perfitnesse is founded,
Our tour, our castell, geyn powers infernall;
Our portecoleys, our bolewerke, and our wall,
Our sheld, our pavys geyn all aduersite,
Our heritage, our guerdoun eternall,
To whom all creatures bowe shall ther kne.

19

Condigne laude nor comendacioun
Youe to this name ther can no tunge telle,
Of gostly fode rycchest refeccioun,
Hedespryng of grace, of lyf conduyt & welle,

335

Iesu named, ther dere no dragoun dwelle,
Blyssedest bawme of our felicite,
Alle cankered sores And poysouns to repelle,
From them to Iesu that knele vpon ther kne.

20

This name Iesus, bi interpretacioun,
Is for to seyn, our blessed savyour,
Our strong Sampsoun, þat strangled the lyoun,
Our lord, our makere, & oure creatoure,
And be his passioun fro deth our redemptour,
Our Orphevs that from captiuyte
Fette Erudice to his celestiall tour,
To whom alle creatures bowe shall ther kne.

21

At welles five licour I shal drawe
To wasshe the ruste of my synnes blyve,
Where al mysteryes of the olde and newe lawe
Toke oryginall, moraly to discryve,
I mene the welles of Crystes woundes five
Wherby we cleyme, of mercyful piete,
Thorow helpe of Iesu at gracious port taryve,
There to haue mercy, knelyng on our kne.

22

I in Iesu sette for iocunditas,
Gynnyng & grounde of all gostly gladnesse,
E. next in ordre is eternitas,
Tokene and signe of eternall bryghtnesse,
S sette for sanitas, socour ageyn sekenesse,
V. for vbertas, of spirituall plente,
S for suauitas, from whom comyth all suetnesse,
To them that knele to Iesu on there kne.

23

I in Iesu, is ioye that neuere shall ende,
E signyfieth euerlastyng suffisaunce,

336

S our sauacioun when we shall hens wende;
V. his fyve woundes, þat made vs acquietaunce,
Fro Sathanes myght thurgh his meke sufferaunce,
S for the sacrament, which ech day we may se,
In forme of bred, to saue vs fro myschaunce,
Whan we devoutly receyue it on our kne.

24

J fro Jacob, h from Habraham,
The lyne descendyng be generacioun,
C stant for Crist, that from heuene kam,
Born of a mayde for oure redempcioun,
The sharpe titel, tokene of his passioun,
Whan he was nayled vpon the rood tre,
O blyssed Iesu, do remissioun
To alle that aske mercy on ther kne.

25

Do mercy, Iesu, or [that] we hens passe,
Out of this perilous dredfull pilgrimage,
Besette with brygauntes, leyd wayte in euery place,
With mortall saute to lett[yn] our passage,—
Among other, I, that am falle in age,
Gretly feblysshed of old infirmite,
Crye vnto Iesu for my synfull outrage
Right of hole herte, thus knelyng on my kne.

26

Lat nat be lost that thou hast bought so dere,
With gold nor syluer, but with thi precious blood,
Our flesshe is freel, but short abydyng here,
The olde serpent malicious and wood,
The world vnstable, now ebbe, nowe is flood,
Eche thyng concludyng on mutabilite,
Geyn whos daungeres I holde this counsel gode,
To prei for mercy to Iesu on oure kne.

337

27

And vndir supporte, Iesu, of thy fauour.
Or I passe hens, this hoolly myn entent,
To make Iesu to be chief surveiour,
Of my laste wille sette in my testament,
Whiche of myself am Insufficient
To rekene or counte, but mercy & piete
Be preferryd, or thou do Iugement,
To alle that calle to Iesu on ther kne.

28

Age is crope In, calleth me to my grave,
To make rekenyng how I my tyme haue spent,
Baryne of vertu, allas, who shall me saue,
Fro fendes daunger tacounte for my talent,
But Iesu be my staf and my potent,
Ouerstreite audite is like tencombre me,
Or dome be youen, but mercy be present
To all that knele to Iesu on ther kne.

29

Now in the name of my lord Iesus,
Of ryght hole herte in all my best entent,
My lif remembryng, froward & vicious,
Ay contrarye to the comaundement
Of Cryst Iesu, now with avisement
The lord besechyng, to haue mercy and piete,
My youthe, myn age, hou þat I haue myspente,
With this word seid knelyng on my kne.

30

O Iesu, mercy! with support of thi grace,
For thi meke passioun, remembre on my complaynt!
Duryng my lyf, with many gret trespace,
By many wrong path, where I haue myswente,

338

I now purpose, be thy grace influent,
To wryte a trites of surfetes don to the,
And calle[n] it my last[e] testament,
With Iesu mercy knelyng on my kne.

II. Testamentum in nomine Iesu.

31

The yeres passed of my tender youthe
Of my fresshe Age sered the grennesse,
Lust appalled, thexperience is kouthe,
The onweldy Ioyntes starked with rudenesse,
The cloudy sight mysted with dirkenesse,
Without redresse, recure, or amendes,
To me of death han brought in the kalendes.

32

Of myspent tyme a fole may weel compleyne,
Thing impossible ageyn for to recure,
Dayes lost in ydel no man may restreyne,
Them to reforme by none aventure,
Eche mortall man is called to the lure,
Of deth, allas, vncerteyne the passage,
Whos chief marynere is called croked age.

33

One of his bedeles, named feblenesse,
Cam with his potent in stede of a mace,
Somouned me and after cam sekenesse,

339

Malencolyk, erthely, and pale of face,
With ther waraunt these tweyne can manace
How deth of me his dewe dette soughte,
And to a bed of langoure thei me brought.

34

Where onto me anoon ther did appere
Whill that I lay, compleynynge in a trance,
Clad in a mentell, a woman sad of chere,
Blak was her abyte, sobre of countenaunce,
Straunge of hir porte, froward of dalyaunce,
Castyng here looke to meward in certeyne
Lich of me she hadde but disdeyne.

35

This seid woman was called “remembraunce
Of myspent tyme,” in youthes lustynesse,
Whiche to recorde did me gret grevaunce,
Than cam her suster, named “pensifnesse
For olde surfetes,” and gan onto me dresse
A wooful bylle, which brought vnto [my] mynde
My gret outrages, of long tyme left behynde.

36

Lyggyng alone, I ganne to ymagyne
How with .iiij. tymes departed is the yere,
First how in ver, the soyle tenlumyne,
Buddes gyn open ageyne the sunne clere,
The bavme vpreysed most souereyne and entere,
Out of the rote doth naturally ascende
With new lyffre, the bareyne soil tamende.

37

The honysoucle, the fresshe primerolles,
Ther leves splaye at Phebus vprysyng,

340

Thamerous foules with motytes and carolles,
Salue this sesoun euery mor[we]nyng,
Whan Aurora hir licour distyllyng
Sent on herbes the perely dropis shene,
Of siluer dewes tenlumyne with the grene.

38

This tyme of Ver is named of grenesse,
Tyme of ioye, of gladnesse, and disporte,
Tyme of growyng, chief moder of freshnesse,
Tyme of reioysyng, ordeyned for counforte,
Tyme whan tyme maketh his resorte
In geryshe Marche toward the Ariete,
Our Emyspery to gladen with his hete.

39

Whiche sesoun prikkes fressh corages,
Reioyseth bestes walking in ther pasture,
Causeth byrdes to syngen in ther cages,
Whanne blood reneweth in euery creature,
Sum obseruance doyng to nature,
Which is of ver called chief pryncesse,
And vnder God ther worldly Emp[e]resse.

40

And for this lusty sesoun agreable
Of gladnesse hath so gret avauntage,
Be convenyent resoun full notable,
Therto ful wel resembleth chyldes age,
Quyk, grene, fressh, and delyuer of corage,
For ryght as ver ay moreth in grenesse,
So doth childhode in amorous lustynesse.

341

41

This quykyng sesoun, nutrityf and good,
Of his nature hath tweyne qualitees,
Of hote and moyst, which long also to blode,
In ther ascencyoun vpward by degrees:
Of kyndly ryght, the whiche propirtees,
By natural hete and temperat moysture,
Rekened in childhode .xiij. yeer doth endure.

42

Thus in .vj. thynges be order men may seen
Notable accord and lust convenience,
Blod, eyre, and ver, south, and meridien,
And age of chyldhood by naturall assistence,
Which, whill thei stonde in ther fressh premynence,
Hete and moysture directeth ther passages,
With grene fervence to force yong corages.

43

First Zepherus with his blastes sote
Enspireth ver with newe buddes grene,
The bawme ascendeth out of euery rote,
Causyng with flowres ageyn the sunne shene
May among mon[e]thes sitt like a quene,
Hir suster Apryll watryng hir gardeynes
With holsom shoures shad in the tender vynes.

44

This tyme of Ver Flora doth hir cure,
With soleyne motlees passyng fressh and gay,
Purpel colours wrought be dame nature,
Mounteyns, vales, and medewes for tarraye,
Hir warderobe open list not to delaye

342

Large mesure to shewe out, and to shede
Tresoures of fayre, whiche she doth possede.

45

This sesoun, Ver, most plesaunt to childhode,
With hir chapelettes grene, white, and rede,
In whiche tyme the newe yonge blode
Hote and moyste ascendeth vp in dede,
Reioyssyng hertes as it abrode doth sprede,
Wenyng this sesoun among ther myrthes alle
Sholde neuer discrecen nor appalle,

46

The variaunt sesoun of this stormy age
Abraydeth euere on newefangelnesse,
Now frounyng chiere, now fressh of visage,
Now glad, now lyght, now trouble and hevynesse;
Wylde as an herte, nowe mornyng for sadnesse,
Stormyssh as Marche, with chaunges ful sodeyne,
After cleer shynyng to turne and make it reyne.

47

Of this sesoun lust holte rene and brydell,
Selde or neuere abydyng in o poynte;
Now passyng besy, nowe dissolute, now ydell;
Now a good felowe, now all out of ioynte;
Now smothe, now stark, now like an hard purpoynt;
Now as the peys of a diall goth,
Now gerysh glad, and anoon after wroth.

48

Liche as in ver men gretly them delyte
To beholde the beaute souerayne

343

Of these blosemes, somme blewe, rede, and white,
In whos fresshenesse no colour may atteyne,
But thanne vnwarly cometh a wynde sodeyne,
For no fauour list not for to spare
Fresshnesse of braunches, for to make hem bare.

49

This sesoun ver stant neuer in no certeyne,
For summe on houre though Phebus freshly shyne,
In Marches wederes it sodeynly wyll reyne,
Which of the day all dirkenesse doth declyne,
And semblably a lyknesse to dyffyne,
Men sen chyldren of byrth[e] yong and grene,
Buryed withinne the yeres fiftene.

50

When Ver is fresshest of blosmes and of floures,
An vnware storme his fresshnessse may appayre,
Who may withstonde the sterne sharpe schoures
Of dethes powere, where hym list repayre?
Though fetures fresshe, angelyke, and fayre
Shewe out in chyldhode as ony crystall clere,
Deth can difface hem withynne .xv. yeer.

51

Veres sesoun doth but a while abide
Skarsly iij. monethes he holdeth here soiour;
The age of chyldhode, rekene on the tother syde,
In hys encrese vp growyng as a floure,
But whan that deth manaseth with his shour,
In suche case he canne no more defence
Than croked age in his most impotence.

344

52

Ver and eche sesoun mut by processe fade,
In ver of age may be no sekernesse,
Eche hath his houres, hevy and eke glade,
Ther sesouns meynt with ioye and hevynesse,
Now fayr, now foule, now helth, now sekenesse,
To shewe a maner liknesse and ymage,
Our dwellyng here is but a pilgrymage.

53

And for my part, I can remembre weell
Whan I was gladdest in that fresshe sesoun,
Lyke brotel glasse, not stable nor like stell,
Fer out of harre, wilde of condicioun,
Ful geryssh, and voyde of all resoun,
Lyk a phane, ay turnyng to and fro,
Or like an orloge whan the peys is goo.

54

Youe to onthryfte and dissolucioun,
Stode onbrydeled of all gouernaunce,
Whiche remembryng, be meke confessyoun,
Now with my potent to fynde allegeaunce,
Of olde surfetes, contrite with repentaunce,
To the Iesu, I make my passage,
Rehersyng trespaces don in my tender age.

55

But to directe be grace my matere,
Mekely knelyng, Iesu, in thy presence,
I me purpose to gynne with prayere,
Vnder thi mercyfull fructuous influence,
So thou Iesu of thy benevolence,
To my requestes be mercyfull attendaunce,
Graunt or I deye, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

345

56

My wrecched lyf tamenden and correcte
I me purpose, with support of thi grace,
Thy deth thy passioun thy ✗ crosse shall me directe,
Which suffredest deth, Iesu, for our trespace.
I, wrecche onworthy to lok vpon thy face,
Thy fete enbracyng, fro which I shall not twynne,
Mercy requyryng, thus I wyll begynne.

III. Iesus.

57

O myghty lord, of powere myghtyest!
Without whom alle force is febylnesse,
Bovntevous Iesu! of gode godlyest
Mercy thy bedel, or thou thy domes dresse,
Dylayest rigour, to punishe my wykednesse,
Lengest abydyng, lothest to do vengeaunce,
O blessed Iesu! of thyn high goodnesse,
Graunt or I deye, shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

58

Though thou be myghty, thou art eke mercyable,
To alle folkes that mekely hem repente;
I a wrecche contagyous and coupable,
To alle outrages redy for tassent,
But of hole herte and wyll in myn entent,
Of olde and newe all vicious gouernaunce,
Of youthe, of age, and of mystyme spent.
Graunte or I deye, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

59

Of my confessioun receyve the sacryfice
Be my tunge vp offered onto the,

346

That I may seyn in all my best[e] guyse
Mekely with Dauid, have mercy vpon me!
Sa[l]ue alle my sores, that they ne cankred be,
With noon olde rust of dysesperaunce;
Which of hole herte crye vpon my kne
Graunt or I deye, shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

60

O Iesu! Iesu! here myn orisoun;
Brydel myn outrage vnder thy disciplyne;
Fetre sensualite, enlumyne my resoun,
To folowe the traces of spirituall doctryne;
Lat thi grace lede me as ryght as lyne
With humble herte, to lyve to thy plesaunce;
And blyssed Iesu! or I this lyf shal fyne,
Graunt or I deye, shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

61

Suffre me to haue savour nor sweetnesse
But in thy name that called is Iesu;
Alle foreyn thing to me make bitternesse,
Saue only Iesu, most souereyne of vertu!
To my professioun accordyng and most du,
Euere to be prented in my remembraunce,
At myn ende to graunt me this issu,
Tofore my deth, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

62

No lord but Iesu, most mercyable and benygne,
Which of mercy toke our humanyte,
And of loue, to shewe a souereyn sygne,
Suffredest passyoun vpon the rode tre,
Only to fraunchyse our mortalite,
Which stode in daungere of Sathanes encoumbraunce.
Or I passe hens, Iesu! graunt onto me
Tofore my deth shryfte, hosel, and repentaunce.

347

63

I am excited and meved of nature
This name Iesu souereynly to preyse;
Name commended most hyghly in scrypture,
Which name hath powere dede men to reyse
To lyf eternall, whos vertu doth so peyse,
Ageyn my synnes weyed in balaunce
That grace and mercy shal so counterpeyse,
Graunt or I deye shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

64

Lat me not reste, nor haue no quiete;
Occupye my soule with spirytuall trauayle
To syng and seyn, O mercy, Iesu suete!
My proteccioun geyn fendes in batayle!
Set asyde all odir apparayll—
And in Iesu, putte all hole myn affiaunce,
Tresour of tresoures that me may most availl,
Graunt or I deye, shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

65

My feyth, myn hope, to the Iesu doth calle,—
Whiche glorious name shall never out of my mende.
I shall the seke what happe that euer befalle,
Be grace and mercy, in trust I shal the fynde;
And but I dede, trewly I were vnkynde,
Which for my sake were perced with a launce,
Onto the herte, Iesu! lef not behynde
Graunt or I deye, shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

66

Ther is no God, Iesu, but thou allone;
Souerynest, and eke most mercyfull,
Fayrest of fayre! erly, late and sone,
Stable, and most strong, pietous and rightfull,

348

Reformyng synneres that ben in vertu dull,
Dauntyng the proude, mekenesse to enhaunce,
Thy tunne of mercy is euer a-liche full;
Graunt or I deye, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

67

Suffre of mercy I may to the speke,
O blyssed Iesu! and godely do adverte;
Who shal yeue me leyser out to breke,
That thou Iesu mayst entren in myn herte
There to abyde more nere than my sherte
With aureat letres, graue there in substaunce?
Provide for me, and late it not asterte,
Graunt or I deye, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

Dic anime mee salus tua ego sum.

Sey to my soule, Iesu, thou art myn helthe.
Heryng this voys, after I shal pursue;
Skoure that place from all gostly fylthe,
And vices alle fro thens to remewe,
Thyn Holy Gost close in that lytel mewe;
Part not lyghtly, make soche chevisaunce
Tencrece in vertu and vices to eschewe,
And or I deye shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

Illustra faciem tuam super seruum tuum.

Shewe glad thy face, and thy lyght doun shede,
The mercyful lyght of thyn eyȝen tweyne
On me thi servaunt which hath so moch nede
For his synnes to wepe[n] and compleyne.
And blyssed Iesu! of mercy not disdeyne
Thi gracious shoures lat reyne in abundaunce
Vpon myn herte, tadewen euery veyne,
And or I deye shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

349

Saluum me fac in misercordia tua domine.

Saue me thy seruaunt, O lord! in thy mercy,
For lak of which lat me not be confounded,
For in the, Iesu, myn hope stant fynally,
And all my trust in the Iesu is grounded,
For my synnes thynke, Iesu, thou were wounded,
Naked on the rode be mortall gret penaunce,
Be which the power of Sathan was confounded,
Graunt or I deye shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

Tu es refugium meum a tribulacione.

Thou art, Iesu, my socour and refuge,
Geyn euery tempest and tribulacioun,
That worldly wawes with ther mortall deluge
Ne drowne me nat in the dredfull dongeoun,
Where Caribdes hath domynacioun,
And Circes syngeth songes of disturbaunce,
To passe that daunger be my proteccioun,
Graunt or I deye shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

Quis dabit michi venias in cor meum.

Who shal yeue me lich to myn entent,
That thou Iesu mayst make thyn herbergage,
Be receyvyng of Holy sacrament,
Into myn herte, which is to myn olde age
Repast eternall geyn all foreyn damage,
Dewly receyved with deuout observaunce?
Celestiall guerdoun, ende of my pilgrymage,
Is shryft, and hosel, and hertly repentaunce.

73

I fele myn herte brotel and roynous,
Nat purified Iesu therin to reste,

350

But as a carpentere cometh to a broken hous,
Or an artificer repareth a reven cheste,
So thou, Iesu, of crafty men the best,
Repare my thought, broke with mysgouernaunce,
Visite my soule, my herte of stele to breste,
Graunt or I deye shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

74

With wepyng eyen and contrite chere,
Accepte me, Iesu, and my compleynt conceyve,
As most on worthy tappere at thyn autere,
Which in my-self no vertu apparceyve,
But yf thy mercy be grace me receyve,
Be synful leuyng brought onto outraunce,
Pray with good hope, which may not disseyve,
Graunt or I deye shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

75

Cryeng to the, that deydest on the rode,
Which with thy blood were steyned & made reed,
And on Sherthursday gaf vs to our fode
Thi blessed body, Iesu, in forme of brede,
To me most synfull graunt or I be ded,
To cleyme be mercy for myn enheritaunce,
That with sharp thorne were crovned on þi hed,
Or I passe hens shryfte, hosel, and repentaunce.

76

And one request in especiall,
Graunt me, Iesu, whil I am here a-lyve,
Euere to haue prented in my memoriall,
The remembraunce of thy woundes fyve,
Nayles with the spere that dyd thyn herte ryve,
Thy croune of thorne, which was no smal penaunce,
Language and tunge, me dewly for to shryve,
The holy vnccioun, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

351

77

Alle the toknes of thy passioun,
I prey the, Iesu, grave hem in my memorye,
Dewly marke myd Centre of my resoun,
On Calvery thy triumphall victorie,
Man to restore to thyn eternall glorie,
Be meditacioun of thi meke sufferaunce,
Out of this exile, vnseur and transitorye,
And whan I passe shryfte, hosel, repentaunce.

78

Of thy mercy requyryng the to myne
Of my mende the mydpoynt most profounde,
This word Iesu my .v. wittes tenlumyne,
In length & brede like a large wounde,
Alle ydel thoughtes tavoyde hem and confounde,
Thi cros, thy skorges, thy garnement cast at chaunce,
The rope, the peler to which thowe were bounde,
Graunt or I deye, shryft, hosel, repentaunce.

79

Of this prayere mekely I make an ende,
Vnder thy mercyfull supportacioun,
O gracious Iesu, graunt where-euere I wende,
To haue memorie vpon thi passioun,
Testimonyal of my redempcioun,
In my testament set for allegeaunce,
This clause last of my peticioun,
Graunt or I deye shryft, hosel, repentaunce!

IV. Iesus.

80

Duryng the tyme of this sesoun Ver,
I mene the sesoun of my yeres grene,
Gynnyng fro chyldhode strecched vp so fer

352

To the yeres accounted ffull fyftene,
Bexperyence, as it was weel sene,
The geryssh sesoun, straunge of condiciouns,
Disposed to many vnbrydeled passiouns.

81

Voyd of resovn, youe to wilfulnesse,
Froward to vertu, of thryfte take litel hede,
Loth to lerne, loued no besynesse,
Saue pley or merth, straunge to spelle or rede,
Folowyng alle appetytes longyng to childhede,
Lyghtly turnyng, wylde and selde sad,
Wepyng for nowȝt, and anone after glad.

82

For litel wroth to stryue with my felawe,
As my passiouns did my brydell lede,
Of the yerd sumtyme I stood in awe,
To be skowred, that was al my drede;
Loth toward skole, lost my tyme in dede,
Lyke a yong colt that ran without brydell,
Made my frendes ther good to spend in ydell.

83

I had in custome to come to skole late,
Nat for to lerne but for a contenaunce,
With my felawes redy to debate,
To Iangle or Iape was sett all my pleasaunce;
Wherof rebuked this was my chevesaunce,
To forge a lesyng, and thervpon to muse,
Whanne I trespaced, my-selven to excuse.

84

To my better did no reuerence,
Of my sovereynes gaf no force at all,
Wex obstinat by Inobedience,

353

Ran in-to gardeynes, apples ther I stall;
To gadre frutes, spared nedir hegge nor wall,
To plukke grapes In other mennes vynes
Was more redy, than for to sey matynes.

85

My lust was all to skorne folke and jape,
Shrewed turnes euer among to vse,
To skoffe and mowen like a wantoun ape,
Whan I dyd euele, other I koude accuse,
My wyttes fyve in wast I did alle vse,
Redier cheristones for to telle
Than gon to chirche, or here the sacryng belle.

86

Loth to ryse, lother to bedde at eve,
With vnwasshe hondes redy to dyner,
My pater noster, my crede, or my beleve,
Cast atte cok, lo, this was my maner!
Wawed with eche wynd, as doth a reedspere,
Snybbed of my frendes, sucche tecches tamende,
Mad deef ere, list not to them attende.

87

A chyld resemblyng which was not lyke to thryve,
Froward to God, rekles in his seruyce,
Loth to correccioun, slough my-selue to shryve,
All good thewes redy to despice,
Chief belweder of [feynyd] truandice,
This is to mene, myself I coude feyne,
Sike like a truant, and felt no maner peyne.

354

88

My port, my pas, my foot allwey vnstable,
My loke, myn eyen, vnsure and vagabound,
In alle my werkes sodeynly chaungeable,
To all good thewes contrarye I was founde,
Now ouersadd, now mornyng, now iocounde,
Wilfull, rekles, made stertyng as a hare,
To folowe my lust for no man wold I spare.

89

Entryng this tyme into relygioun,
Onto the plowe I put forth myne hond,
A yere complete made my professioun,
Consideryng litel charge of thilke bond,
Of perfeccioun ful gode exaumple I fond,
Ther techyng good, in me was [all] the lake,
With Lothes wyf I loked often abak.

90

Taught of my maystres be vertuous disciplyne
My loke restreyne, and kepe clos my syght,
Of blyssed Benet to folowe the doctryne,
And bere me lowly to euery maner wyght,
Be the aduertence of myn Inward syght,
Cast to godward of hole affeccioun,
To folowe thempryses of my professioun.

91

His holy rewle was onto me rad,
And expouned in ful notable wyse,
Be vertuous men, religious and sad,
Ful weel experte, discrete, prudent, and wys,
Of observaunces of many gostly empryse;
I herd all weel, but towchyng to the dede,
Of that thei taught I toke litel hede!

355

92

Of religioun I wered a blak habite,
Only outward as be apparence,
To folowe that charge sauoured but fullyte,
Saue be a maner connterfete pretence;
But in effecte ther was none existence,
Like the image of Pygmalyon,
Shewed lyfly, and was made but of ston.

93

Vpon the ladder, with staves thryes thre,
The .ix. degrees of vertuous mekenesse
Called in the reule grees of humylite,
Wheron tascende my feet me lyst not dresse,
But be a maner feyned fals humblenesse,
So couertly, whan folkes were present,
On to shewe outward, another in myn entent.

94

First, where as I forsook myne owne wylle,
Shette with a look of obedience,
Tobeye my souereynes, as it was ryght & skylle,
To folowe the skole of perfyȝt pacience,
To myn Eymes doon worshep and reuerence,—
Folowyng the reuers, toke all another weye,
What I was boden, I koude weel disobeye.

95

With tonge at large and brotel conscyence,
Ful of wordes, disordinat of language,
Rekeles to kepe my lyppes in silence,
Mouth, eyen, and eres token ther avauntage,
To haue ther cours onbrydeled be outrage,
Out of the reynes of attemperaunce,
To sensualyte gaf alle the gouernaunce.

356

96

Wacche out of tyme, ryot and dronkenesse,
Vnfructuous talkyng, Intemperat diete,
To veyn fables I did myn eres dresse,
Fals detraccioun among was to me swete,
To talke of vertu me thought it was not mete,
To my corage nor my compleccioun,
Nor nat that sowned toward perfeccioun.

97

One with the firste to take my disporte,
Last that aros to come to the quere,
On contemplacioun I fond but small comforte,
Holy histories did to me no chier,—
I savoured more in good wyne that was clere,—
And euery houre my passage for to dresse,
As I seyd erst, to ryot or excesse.

98

Kowde grucch, And fond no cause why,
Causeles ofte compleynyng on my fare,
Geyn my correcciouns answered frowardly,
Withoute reuerence, list no man to spare,
Of all vertu and pacience I was bare,
Of rekles youthe list non hede to take,
What Cryst Iesu suffred for my sake.

99

Which now remembrying in my later age,
Tyme of my childhode, as I reherse shall,
Wythinne .xv. holdyng my passage,
Myd of a cloyster, depicte vpon a wall,
I savgh a crucifyx, whos woundes were not smalle,
With this [word] “vide,” wrete there besyde,
“Behold my mekenesse, O child, and leve thy pryde.”

357

100

The which word, whan I dyd vndirstond,
In my last age takyng the sentence,
Theron remembryng, my penne I toke in honde,
Gan to wryte with humble reuerence,
On this word, “vide,” with humble diligence,
In remembraunce of Crystes passioun,
This litel dite, this compilacioun.

IESUS.

Vide.

101

Beholde, o man! lyft vp thyn eye, and see
What mortall peyne I suffre for thi trespace,
With pietous voys I crye, and sey to the,
Beholde my woundes, behold my blody face,
Beholde the rebukes that do me so manace,
Beholde my enemyes that do me so despice,
And how that I to reforme the to grace,
Was like a lambe offred in sacryfice.

102

Behold the paynemes of whom that I was take,
Behold the cordes with whiche þat I was bounde,
Behold the Armoures which made my herte to quake,
Beholde the gardeyn in which þat I was founde,
Behold how Iudas toke xxxti pens rounde,
Beholde his tresoun, beholde his couetyse,
Behold how I with [many a] mortall wounde,
Was like a lambe offred in sacrifice.

358

103

Se my discyple which that hath me sold,
And se this feyned fals salutacioun,
And se the monye which that he hath told,
And se his kyssing and fals decepcioun,
Behold also the compassed fals tresoun,
Take as a thef with lanternes in ther guyse,
And afterward for mannes redempcioun,
Was like a lambe offered in sacrifice.

104

Behold to Cayphas how I was presented,
Behold how Pilat lyst ȝeue me no respite,
Behold how bysshopes were to my deth assented,
And se how Herawde had me in despite,
And like a fool how I was clad in whight,
Drawn as a feloun in most cruell wyse,
And last of alle, I, after ther delyght,
Was like a lambe offered in sacryfice.

105

Behold the mynystres which had me in kepyng,
Behold the peler and the ropes stronge,
Where I was bounde my sydes dovn bledyng,
Most felly bete with [theire] skorges long
Behold the batayle that I did vnderfonge,
The bront abydyng of ther mortall empryse,
Thorgh ther accusyng and ther sklaundres wrong,
Was like a lambe offered in sacryfice.

106

Behold and se the hatefull wrecchednesse,
Put ageyn me to my confusioun,
Meyn eyen hyd and blended with derkenesse,
Bete and eke bobbed by fals illusioun,

359

Salued in skorn be ther fals knelyng dovn,
Behold al this, and se the mortal guyse,
How I only, for mannes saluacioun,
Was like a lombe offered in sacryfice.

107

Se the witnesse be whom I was deceyved,
Behold the Iuges that gaf my Iugement,
Behold the crosse that was for me devysed,
Behold my body with betyng all torent,
Behold the people which of fals entent,
Causeles dyd ageyn me ryse,
Whiche like a lambe of malys Innocent,
Was like a lambe offered in sacryfice.

108

Behold the woman that folowed me aferre,
That sore wept whan I thus was assayled,
Behold the Iewes whiche be ther cruel werre,
Han my body vnto the cros I-nayled,
Behold my tormentes most sharply apparayled,
Atwene to theves put to my Iuyse;
Behold how mychel my deth hath eke avayled,
That was for man offered in sacryfice.

109

Behold the spere most sharply grounde & whette,
Myn herte wounded vpon the ryght syde,
Beholde the reed spyre galle and eysel fett,
Behold the skornynges which þat I did abyde;
And my .v. woundes that were made so wyde,
Which no man list of rewthe to aduertyse;
And thus I was of mekenesse ageyn pryde,
For mannes offence offered in sacryfice.

360

110

Se my disceples, how thei haue me forsake,
And fro me fled almost euerychon,
Se how they slepte and lyst not with me wake,
Of mortall drede they lefte me alle alone;
Except my moder and my cosyn Seynt Iohn,
My deth compleynyng in most doolfull wyse,
Se, fro my crosse they wold neuer goon,
For mannes offence whan I did sacryfice.

111

Se how that I was Iuged to the deth,
Se Baraban gon at his liberte,
Se with a spere Longeus me sleth,
Beholde two lycours distyllyng dovn fro me,
Se blood and water by mercifull plente,
Rayle be my sydes, which ought Inow suffyce
To man whan I vpon the rood tree,
Was like a lambe offered in sacrifice.

112

Behold the knyghtes which be ther froward chaunce
Sat for my clothes at the dees to play;
Behold my modyr swownyng for grevaunce,
Vpon the crosse whan she sawe me deye;
Beholde the sepulcre in which my bones lay,
Kepte with strong wacche til I did aryse,
Of helle gates, se how I brake the keye,
And gaf for man my blood in sacryfice.

113

And geyn thi pryde behold my gret mekenesse,
Geyn thyn envie behold my charite,
Geyn thi leccherye behold my chast clennesse,
Geyn thi couetyse behold my pouerte,

361

Atweene too thevys nayled to a tree,
Rayled with reed blood, they lyst me so desguyse,
Behold, O man! all this I did for the,
Meke as a lambe offred in sacryfice.

114

Behold my loue, and gyf me thyn ageyn,
Behold, I deyde thy raunsom for to paye,
Se howe myn herte is open brode and pleyn,
Thy gostly enemyes onely to affraye,
An hardere batayle no man myght assaye,
Of all tryumphes the grettest hye empryse,
Wher-for, O man! no lenger to dismaye,
I gaf for the my blood in sacryfice.

115

Turne home ageyn, thy synne do forsake,
Behold and se yf ought be left behynde,
How I to mercy am redy the to take,
Gyf me thyn herte and be no more vnkynde;
Thy loue and myn, togedyr do hem bynde,
And late hem neuer parte in no wyse,
Whan thou were lost, thy sowle ageyn to fynde
My blod I offred for the in sacryfice.

116

Emprente thes thynges in thyn inward thought,
And graue hem depe in thy remembraunce,
Thynke on hem [wel], and forgete hem nowght,
Al this I suffred to do the allegeaunce,
And with my seyntes to yeve the suffisaunce,
In the hevenly court for the I do devyse
A place eternall, a place of all plesaunce,
For which my blood I gaf in sacryfice.

362

117

And more my mercy to putte att a preef,
To euery synnere that non ne shal it mysse,
Remembre how I gaf mercy to the theef,
Which hadde so longe trespaced and doon amys;
Went he not frely with me to paradise?
Have this in mende, how it is my guyse
All repentaunt to bryng hem to my blysse,
For whom my blood I gaf in sacryfice.

118

Tarye no lenger toward thyn herytage,
Hast on thy weye and be of ryght good chere,
Go eche day onward on thy pylgrymage,
Thynke howe short tyme thou hast abyden here;
Thy place is bygged aboue the sterres clere,
Noon erthly palys wrought in so statly wyse,
Kome on my frend, my brother most entere!
For the I offered my blood in sacryfice!

Amen.

Explicit testamentum Johanis Lydgate.