The poems of John Audelay Edited with introduction, notes and glossary [by Ella Keats Whiting] |
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 | The poems of John Audelay |  |
14
Hic incepiunt hore canonice passionis Ihesu Christe.
Crist þat was crucifyd on cros for our synnus sake,
Lord, on our mysdede no vengans þou take,
Bot send sorou into our hert our synnus fore to slake,
And let þi mercy be medysyn our mendis for to make,
Lord, we þe pray.
Here schul ȝe here anon,
What hard payn and passion,
Þat Crist sofyrd fore synful mon;
Gret dole here ȝe may.
Lord, on our mysdede no vengans þou take,
Bot send sorou into our hert our synnus fore to slake,
And let þi mercy be medysyn our mendis for to make,
Lord, we þe pray.
Here schul ȝe here anon,
What hard payn and passion,
Þat Crist sofyrd fore synful mon;
Gret dole here ȝe may.
Patris sapeencia veritas diuina.
Þe wysdam of þe Fader aboue ben þe treuþ of His Godede;
God and mon He was y-takun in þe oure of morotyde,
His fryndis and His dys[ip]lis sun Him had e-leuyde;
When He was takyn of þe Iewys to deþ He was betrayde;
Iudas had Him sold.
Fore xxx pens of lytil pryce
With Iewys he mad his marchandyce,
Because of cursid couetyse,
As a traytur bold.
God and mon He was y-takun in þe oure of morotyde,
His fryndis and His dys[ip]lis sun Him had e-leuyde;
When He was takyn of þe Iewys to deþ He was betrayde;
Iudas had Him sold.
Fore xxx pens of lytil pryce
With Iewys he mad his marchandyce,
Because of cursid couetyse,
As a traytur bold.
102
Hora prima ductus est Ihesus ad Pilatum.
At prime Ihesus out þai lad; to Pilat þai cun him draw;
Mone was þe false wetnes þai saydyn in here saue;
Þai blynfeld Him; þai buffet Him, and bond Him aȝen law,
And spit in His fayre face; His chere myȝt no mon know;
And spulid Him al nakyd,
And cast loot fore His cote anon,
And bondon Him to a peler of ston,
And betin Him with scorgis fro top to ton;
Þe red blod fro Him strakid.
Mone was þe false wetnes þai saydyn in here saue;
Þai blynfeld Him; þai buffet Him, and bond Him aȝen law,
And spit in His fayre face; His chere myȝt no mon know;
And spulid Him al nakyd,
And cast loot fore His cote anon,
And bondon Him to a peler of ston,
And betin Him with scorgis fro top to ton;
Þe red blod fro Him strakid.
‘Crucifige’ clamatant hora terciarum.
At vndor þai drovn Him to His deþ; loud cun þai cri,
‘Crucifi Him on þe cros; dispoyle we Him in hye!’
Þai cround Him with a croun of þornes; þe blood ran in His ye;
He bere His cros on His chulder to þe Mount of Caluere
Þat His monhod lost His myȝt;
Þai drown Him forþ with ropis þen.
Þo wept þe wyfis of Ierusalem;
His moder, and Ion, Mare Maudlene,
Þai swonyd þer in His syȝt.
‘Crucifi Him on þe cros; dispoyle we Him in hye!’
Þai cround Him with a croun of þornes; þe blood ran in His ye;
He bere His cros on His chulder to þe Mount of Caluere
Þat His monhod lost His myȝt;
Þai drown Him forþ with ropis þen.
Þo wept þe wyfis of Ierusalem;
His moder, and Ion, Mare Maudlene,
Þai swonyd þer in His syȝt.
Hora sexta est cruce conclauat[u]s.
At mydday þai nayld Him on þe cros and crucifid heuen Kyng,
And lift Him vp apon þe tre betwen ij þeuus to hyng;
Because of turment He þurstid, þen of aysel þai ȝif him dryng;
Þus þe Lombe He did away our synn, His Godhed gloryfyyng,
Hon[g]yng apon þe cros.
To His moder He sayd anon,
‘A! womon, lo! here þi Sun.
Take here to þi moder, Ion.’
He swonyd before his face.
And lift Him vp apon þe tre betwen ij þeuus to hyng;
Because of turment He þurstid, þen of aysel þai ȝif him dryng;
Þus þe Lombe He did away our synn, His Godhed gloryfyyng,
Hon[g]yng apon þe cros.
To His moder He sayd anon,
‘A! womon, lo! here þi Sun.
Take here to þi moder, Ion.’
He swonyd before his face.
103
Hora nona Dominus Ihesus experauit.
At þe he our of non Ihesus ȝif vp þe gost;
His spyrit cryd, ‘Eloy!’ to þe Fader of myȝtis most;
A blynd kn[i]ȝt with a scharpe spere to þe hert Him þr[o]st;
Þe stons to breke, þe erþ con quake, þe son his lyȝt had lost.
Þen sentorio con he say,
‘Þis is veray Godis Sun
To deþ þat ȝe han here don,
Was borne of a maydyn,
Schal deme ȝou at domysday.’
His spyrit cryd, ‘Eloy!’ to þe Fader of myȝtis most;
A blynd kn[i]ȝt with a scharpe spere to þe hert Him þr[o]st;
Þe stons to breke, þe erþ con quake, þe son his lyȝt had lost.
Þen sentorio con he say,
‘Þis is veray Godis Sun
To deþ þat ȝe han here don,
Was borne of a maydyn,
Schal deme ȝou at domysday.’
De cruce deponetur hora vespertina.
At þe oure of euensong of þe cros þai toke Him doun;
Þe strenkþ of His Godhed in Him was hit alle one;
Seche a deþ He sofyrd þen, of our syn to be medysyn;
Alas! þat þe croun of ioy was cast vp-so-doun!
Þai toke Him of þe tre;
Necodeme he was þet one,
And Iosep of Barmaþe, þat hole mone;
Þai beren Him to His tombe of stone,
Þer-in beryd to be.
Þe strenkþ of His Godhed in Him was hit alle one;
Seche a deþ He sofyrd þen, of our syn to be medysyn;
Alas! þat þe croun of ioy was cast vp-so-doun!
Þai toke Him of þe tre;
Necodeme he was þet one,
And Iosep of Barmaþe, þat hole mone;
Þai beren Him to His tombe of stone,
Þer-in beryd to be.
Hora completore datur sepulteure.
At þe hore of cumplyn in graue þai cun Him bryng,
Þen was þe nobil body of Crist our hope of lyfe comyng;
Þai beryd Hym with blessid bamus, þe proph[e]cy fullyng;
Euer haue we His delful deþ in our hertis myny[n]g;
Here-of we schul be fayne.
When He had fulfillid þe prophese
Þat was sayd of Hym trewly,
Þe iij day He ros with gret maystry
Fro deþ to lyue aȝayn.
Þen was þe nobil body of Crist our hope of lyfe comyng;
Þai beryd Hym with blessid bamus, þe proph[e]cy fullyng;
Euer haue we His delful deþ in our hertis myny[n]g;
Here-of we schul be fayne.
When He had fulfillid þe prophese
Þat was sayd of Hym trewly,
Þe iij day He ros with gret maystry
Fro deþ to lyue aȝayn.
104
Has hororas canonicas cum deuocione.
Þese hole hours haue we in mynd with deuocion
And worchip we Ihesu Crist with þese meke oresoun,
Þat fore our sak with brenyng loue sofyrd payn and passioun;
In þe hour of our deþ be He our solacion!
Lord Omnipotent,
Fore þi hole passion
Þat þou sofyrd fore synful mon,
Þou graunt vs alle remyssion
To-fore þi iugement.
And worchip we Ihesu Crist with þese meke oresoun,
Þat fore our sak with brenyng loue sofyrd payn and passioun;
In þe hour of our deþ be He our solacion!
Lord Omnipotent,
Fore þi hole passion
Þat þou sofyrd fore synful mon,
Þou graunt vs alle remyssion
To-fore þi iugement.
He þat þese ours wil say with deuocion
In reuerens and worchip of Crist passion,
And schryue him clen to a prest with contric[i]on,
God He grauntis him of His grace ful remyssion
Of al his trespace.
Þen ioyful may ȝe be
Aȝens þe day þat ȝe schul dye
To haue grace and merce,
In heuen fore euer a place.
In reuerens and worchip of Crist passion,
And schryue him clen to a prest with contric[i]on,
God He grauntis him of His grace ful remyssion
Of al his trespace.
Þen ioyful may ȝe be
Aȝens þe day þat ȝe schul dye
To haue grace and merce,
In heuen fore euer a place.
| The poems of John Audelay | |