23. AN INVOCATION TO SEYNTE ANNE.
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[MS. B. M. Adds. 16165, leaf 247, and back.]
Invocacioun by Lydegate to Saynte Anne.
1
Þou first moeuer, þat causest euery thing
To haue his keping thoroughe þy prouydence,
And rightfully art called lord and kyng,
Having þe lordship of eche Intelligence,
Destille adoune þy gracious Influence
In-to my brest þat dulle is for rudenesse,
Of holy Anne some goodly word expresse.
2
ffor but þou help, my wit is to bareyne,
My mynde derk and dul is my memorye
But yif þey beo emoysted with þe reyne
Þat doun descenden frome þy see of glorye
Whos golde dewe dropes fro þy reclynatorye
In-to my soule, awhaped and amaate,
Shed from abouen þy licour aureate,
3
I mene þe grace of þe culuer whight
Þat with his plente doþe euery thing enspyre
Haboundantly, wher þat him list talight
In herties colde to setten hem a-fyre,
To brenne in lone, and feruently desyre;
With which flamme myn herb aquyche and reyse,
Marye moder! Sainte Anne for to preyse,
4
Þat was descendid of þe stocke and roote
Of olde Iessye by ordre lynyallye,
Þe seed of Dauid, whos braunches feyre and swoote
Ben so comended of noble Ysaye
O holy Anne! haue pytee and mercy,
Þoughe in þy laude I can no bette endyte,
And helpe me forthe of þat I thenk to wryte.
5
A! holy Anne, þat bare þe feyre fruyt
Of al oure helpe and oure saluacioun,
Þat art chief help, comfort and refuyt,
Unto mankynde sheelde and proteccioun,
Now thorugh þy preyer and medyacioun
þat whylome were of Ioachim þe wyff,
Holy to stynten al oure werre and stryffe.
6
Be þow oure socour to saue us and defende
In euery sorowe, boþe neghe and ferre;
For to þy grace we holy us comende,
Out of whos brest sprange þe lode-sterre
Þat is oure guyde in euery wo and werre,
Whane þat hir bemys to us appeere and shyne
Þer may no meschief in oure hertis myne.
7
Bennigne matronne, o blisful moder Anna!
Þat Broughtest ferþe with-Inne þy-self ful cloos
Þe halowed ark þat bare þe holy manna,
Foode of mankynde wherthorugh oure helpe aroos
Whiche holy prestes haue in hir depoos
To given it swiche, in þis desert and nede,
As shul be saued for hir eternal mede,
8
For þou by grace were predestynate
Ful longe aforne by prescyence devyne,
To bere the virgyne pure, Invyolate,
Þat shoulde be tryacle and medecyne
Ageyne þe cruwel venyme serpentyne,
Þat was out shad tenspyren with mankynde,
Whane Adam ate þapple as we fynde.
9
Nowe sith þat God haþe gyve þe excellence
Aboue alle wymmen moder for to be
Of hir þat shoulde remedye oure offence,
Haue on us wrecches mercy and pitee
So þat we may bope fynde hit and esee
Þat þow þe wrathe of þe Iuge qweeme,
To graunt us mercy to fore er þat he deeme;
10
So þat we may fully in þe affye;
Thoroughe þin help, O blissful sugre-canne!
We may aboue in þe heuenly Ierarchy,
Where þat þese Aungels be wont to singe Osanne,
To thanke and preyse, and worship as we cane
Þe blisful lambe, þat for oure aldre goode
Thoroughe his meeknesse starff upoun þe Roode.
11
To slee þe serpent þat was so venymous
He faught for synners right as a champyoun,
And in his sight, as moost victoryous,
He killed deathe, of Iuda þis leoun,
To whome þowe praye þat for his passyoun
He graunt us mercy in þis exyle heere
Sith he us bought with his blood so deer.
