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

Here begyneth verses of þe sauter whiche þat kynge Herry the V. whom god assoyle by gret devocion vsyd in his chappell at his hyȝe masses by-twene þe levacion and þe concecracion of þe sacrament translatid by þe Monke Lydegat dan John.

1

O sothefast sonne of all bryghtnes,
Enlumen withe thy clere lyght
Myn yen, that throughe no darkenesse
Slepe not in the blake nyght
Of cruell deth, so that no myght
My ennymy have, as he massayle,
To seyne in all [thys] fell[e] fyght
Agaynst me he myght avayle.

210

2

Into thy handes I comende
My spirit withe all humilite,
Thy mercy ever besechende;
Syth with thy bloode thow boughtest me,
Thow sothefast lord, one, too, & thre,
Agayn everyche tribulacion
Me governe through thy benyngnite,
And take to thy proteccion.

3

In my tonge I seyde and spake:
“Lord, make me myn ende know,
Or the serpent take wrake
With the treynes of his bow;
And of my day[e]s all by row
The nomber what it is let se,
Or I be layd in erthe low,
To wete ther-of what fayleth me.

4

“My bondis and my byter chaynes
Thou hast I-broke in goodly wyse,
And savede me fro the develes traynes;
Wherfore to the I shall devyse
Of laud and prayse and sacrefyce,
Of clene entent, withoute blame,
Now lord, my preyeer not despyse,
That clepe and cry vnto thy name,

5

“For unto me ther ys no flyght,
Benigne lord, but to thy grace,
For ther is non to [s]erche aryght
The trowbull that doth my hert enbrace;
So sore my syne dothe me chace
That I can no remedy,
But mekely knele afore thy face
Tyll thou by mercy lyst me guye.”

211

6

To the, lorde, I clepe and call,
And say; “Thow art my suffysans,
My trust, my hope, and therwithall
My Ioye, and all my [full] plesaunce;
The cheeffe eke of my remembraunce
My part ayeyn ech woo and drede
Withe-in the lond of lyfe mavaunce
By mercy for myne eternall mede.

7

“Make me a signe throw thy goodnes,
And marke me in my for-hede,
That my enmyes in my destres,
When they me se, have of me drede;
And of pyte and godelyhede
Be thou my consolacion,
Coumfort and refute, and all my spede,
In every maner of tribulacion.

8

“Remember, lord, ounly by grace
Of thy merytes, and take good hede
And thynke how they surmount and pas
All thy werkis, and excede;
For throue the worlde in length & brede
Thy merytes every-thyng excelle,
Syth thow allone, ther is no drede,
Of mercy art the fullsome welle.

9

“The trespas of my tender youthe,
Nere the gyltes of my gret age,
Unto thy ryght lat not be couthe,
Tyll tyme that thyne Ire asswage;
My ygnorance, nor owterage,
As I desarve, not recorde,
Tyll pes be leyde, as for ostage,
That ryght and mercy may accorde.

212

10

“After thy mercyes on me have mynde,
O lorde God, of thy hygh bounte;
Thynke that thou toke our kynde
Whylome in thy humanyte,
Whan thou come downe in lowe degre
For owr offense to be raunson,
And seth for our captiuite
Thy bloode was our redempcion.

11

“O lord, seth that I am thy servant,
Thy servant ryght as it is skyll,
By mekenes & by min avaunt,
And humble chylde of thyn ancill,
By grace graunt me to fullfyll
All that to the may be plesauns,
And when I ere ageynst thy wyll,
Have mercy or thou do vengeance.”

Explicit. Lidgatt.