8. VEXILLA REGIS PRODEUNT.
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[MS. Univ. Lib. Cambr. Kk. 7. 6, leaves 198–199.]
Here enduth þis preyere to our lord Iesu / And
begynneth the ymne Vexilla regis Prodeunte.
1
Royal Banerys vnrolled of the kyng
Towarde his Batayle, in Bosra steyned reede,
The Crosse his standart Celestyal of schynyng
Wyth purple Hewe depeynt, I tooke good heede,
Vita was Capteyne, whech lyste hymselff be ded,
And to slee deth his conqueste to termyne,
Fygure of Isaak from patriarkys seed
And downe descendid ffrom Abrahamis lyne.
2
Frute of a tree caused al our lose,
Wheche to recure he weryd a purple weede,
Lyff sleyng deth, deyde vpon þe Crose:
In prophesies þe mysteryes ȝe may rede,
Thus deth geyne deth lyste his blood to schede,
Callid carnis conditor, prophetis wroote also;
To make vs partable of his trivmphal mede
Criste was suspensus in patibulo.
(Confixus clauis Innocens)
Sone of kyng Dauit was sleyne, & his ayre,
Pure Innocent, nayled to a tree,
Moriens ful hygh vp in þe Eyre,
Slouth the Tyrant for al his cruelte,
Pride was bore downe with humilite,
Senum tirannum vinciens,
Where we were thrall ffauȝt for our liberte,
Et nos ab morte liberans.
(Quo vlneratus in super)
Ouer al this he, woundyd to the deth,
To scowre þe Ruste of our mortal grevaunce,
Vnto his fader clamans ȝalde vp the breth,
Than Rooff his hert Longeus with a launce,
Blood & watur ran out in habondaunce,
Vt nos lauaret crimine,
O synful man! haue this in remembraunce,
Manauit vnda sanguine.
(Inpleta sunt quae conciuit)
Al thyng acomplyssched, deth & his woundes scharpe,
With all þe misteries of olde prophesie,
The ffuneral compleyntis Dauit songe with his harpe,
With wepyng tvnis, notyd in Jeremie,
Whose Coote Armure was lyke a bloody skye
Dicendo nacionibus,
Recoorde Esdras & Recoorde Isaye
Regnauit aliguo deus.
(Arbor decora & fulgida)
Fayrest of trees celestial fresche schynyng,
Wyth Royal purplys al bloody was thyn hewe,
Aftur þy Batayle Inperyal of schewyng,
For a memorial regystred newe & newe,
Palme of þis conqueste be repoort is so trewe
Electa digno stipite,
Cheeff gryffe of Paradise who so þe greyne wel knewe,
Tam sancta membra tangere.
(Beata cuius Brachiis)
Blesset þat stoke, [of] whiche thys ryche frute
Armys & body Ranson Incomperable
Henge on þy braunchis, repaaste & cheeff refute,
Restouratyff set in oure feyth moost stable,
Geyne all oure hurtis & soorys incurable,
This stok statera facta est corporis,
Wheche spoylled Hell & sathan mooste vengable
Predam que tulit tartaris.
(O crux aue spes vnica)
O only hope to wrecchis in distresse!
O Cristus Cros! scheeld & proteccyon
Oure medycyne, oure Bawme in al sikenesse,
Oure rycheste triacle geyne al goostely poyson,
And cheeff refuge in our tribulacyon,
Auge piis Iusticiam,
Be the .v. woundes & thi passion
Reis que dona veniam.
(Te summa deus trinitas)
Thow þat arte called Oon, too & thre,
Hiest of Lordes in the heuenly consistorie,
Alle thre, O God! in perffite vnite,
To whome be ȝoue laude honour & glorie,
Myght to þe Fader, conquest & victorie
Vnto þe sone, for oure redempcyon,
To þe holy Gooste grace to haue memorie
On his ffyue woundes & his passion.
Here enduth the ymne Vexilla regis prodeunt
