 | The grateful dead |  |
22
The Grateful Dead,
by John Lydgate.
1
Remembryd by scriptures, we fynde and rede,Holsum and holy it is, to thynke and pray
ffor all the sowles that be past in dede
Out of this wrecchid world, vnto domesday,
Abidyng in purgatory with sorvful lay,
Cryeng and callyng for mercy and pite,
Vnto them In special that there friendis be.
2
There was a man, right hooly and devoute,of parise in fraunce, that worthy cyte,
That daily wold sey, in his chirche-yerde aboute,
ffor alle cristen sowlis, with mercy and pite,
De profundis, paternoster, and Ave.
This prayer he vsed contynuauly,
Til god purveyed for hym continuauly.
3
It fil on a tyme, he was pursuedOf his mortal enemyes with grete violence.
He fledde for the best, and ther malice eschewed,
And toke the chircheyerde for his defence,
And sayde Deprofundis with entier diligence.
The bodyes arose out of theyr graves;
Somme appered with gleyves, and some with staves.
4
So grete a multitude assemblid to fight,His enemyes gan fle, and sore were agast.
He thankyd god of his grete myght,
And seyde deprofundis whan they were past.
His reward in heuen he had at last.
Therfor it is holsom for to have in memory
The soulis that ly In paynes of purgatory.
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