The canticles or Balades of Salomon phraselyke declared in Englysh Metres, by William Baldwin |
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| II. |
| III. |
 | IIII. |
The .iiii. Chapter.
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| xxix. |
| xxx. |
| xxxi. |
| xxxii. |
| xxxiii. |
| xxxiiii. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
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The .iiii. Chapter.
The canticles or Balades of Salomon |  |
IIII. The .iiii. Chapter.
xxix. Christe to his perfect Spouse.
The Argument.
Whan the perfect Preachers haue declared the humanitie of Christe, in whiche he made satisfaccion to his father for the sinnes of the whole worlde, he praysyng them agayn, for all his gyftes in them, syngeth.
Doues iyes thou hast, in iudgement simplenes:
Besydes thy paste that standes thyne iyes aboue,
Thy goodly attyre of fayth and humblenes.
Are lyke a flocke of Goates moste quicke and pure,
Whiche rounded are from of mount Giseal,
With whiche thou doest all heresies deuour,
Are lyke the flocke whiche shorne cum vp along
The washyng place, Gods wurd that doeth them scour.
Gods wurd, and truth, and not so muche as one
Is voyde therof: with these teeth thou doest tear
Abuses byg, that thynke to rule alone.
Whiche for the elect, thy sauiour Christ doest preache,
Afflicte in fleshe, with bloud his crosse bebled,
To faythfull folke a swete and pleasaunt speache.
Lyke to a broken piece of Pomegranade
Whiche spring of faythe by merit of my blood,
Besides thy tyre, my wurkes that wyll not fade.
Whiche buylded is with bulwarkes, whereupon
A thousand shyldes of truthe, whiche men of power
In faythe, haue borne, doe hang to fraye thy foen.
Alwayes at wurke, are lyke two litle twinnes,
The whiche among the faythfull Lillies feede
Tyll shadowes passe, and tyll the daye begynnes.
xxx. Christe to his Spouse.
The argument.
Whan Christe hath praysed perfectly the perfect spouse, he calleth to mynde the other, whiche is yet in bed on slepe: and desirous to prayse her also, syngeth.
To the hyll of frankincence,
Goe wyll I to my Spouse, slepie who
Wysheth fayne in my presence
To cum.
And no spot doeth rest in thee:
Fro thy self cum, cum from aboue
Libanus, though it bryght bee,
Cum, Cum.
But in me put all thy trust:
So thou shalt be made gloriouse,
If thou wylt therfore be iust,
Cum, cum.
xxxi. Christe to his Spouse.
The argument.
Because the Churche shoulde cum the more spedely from all confidence in herselfe, to truste wholly in Christe: her Beloued shewyng why he called her, addeth great promises, whiche (yf she cum to hym) he wyl perfourme, syngyng.
Thou shalt be crouned from Amana mount:
From God, the hye top, crouned shalt thou be
With truth, whose heygth al hye thynges doeth surmount.
The curses whiche thou shalt sustayne of men,
Thou shalt be crounde from euery dignitie,
From the Leoperdes mount, and from the Lyons den.
xxxii. Christe to his Spouse.
The Argument.
Christe hauyng promysed to croune his Churche with truth, (for his self wyll be her croune) from Sanir and Hermon, the curses and troubles that she should sustayne for his sake, and from the Lyons den, and Leoperdes mounte, whiche signifie pleasures and delites, honors and dignities: (whiche though they be for the most part abused, yet Christe promyseth his Spouse that yf she trust in hym only, & stande to his truth, she shal vse them to his glory, and be crouned of hym therefore) he begynneth to prayse her. But because she is not yet perfecte by reason of the flesh, whiche continually troubleth and hyndereth her, he lykyng sumwhat, and myslykyng elswhat, syngeth.
My spouse, my sister dere:
Thou hast my hart whole rauyshed
With one of thyne iyes clere.
Doeth muche my mynde refresh:
Thyne other iye detest I quite,
Thy iudgement of the flesh.
That hangth about thy necke,
My mynde wholly thou doest surprise,
For in it is no specke.
By fayth styl bryngest furth,
Doe please my mynde excedyngly:
The rest are nothyng wurth.
xxxiii. Christe to his Spouse.
The Argument.
After Christe hath praysed his Spouse for thone of her iyes, and for one of her chaynes, dispraysyng the other (for she hath yet one carnal iye, and doeth sum of her wurkes through hipocrisie) he prayseth the rest of her partes throwly, syngyng before the Younglynges.
My syster swete, more fayre they are than wyne:
Thy sauour eke of my gyftes glorious,
Do passe all odours, be they neuer so fine.
From whiche my prayse doeth drop al men among:
My scriptures eke that are not muche vnlyke
Hunney and mylke, doe vnder lye thy toung.
Do sauour swete, lyke the mount Libanus.
My Spouse, thou art an orchard locked fast
Of pleasaunt trees, my elect most bounteous.
Of waters pure, in truthes moysture so depe,
That all may drynke whome grace shal therto bryng.
Of Pomegranates are lyke a paradise,
Beset about with fruites that pleasaunt bee,
Of cumly heygth that spryng in goodly wyse.
With saffron, Camphor, and the swete cypres,
And all the trees that grow in Libanus:
Swete Cynamome, strong Myrrhe and Aloes.
These are the elect and faythfull that doe dwell
In thee my church, in office seueral:
Who all through fayth, excedyng swete do smel.
Thy dewie fayth doth moysten euery coost:
Thou art also a poole the whiche doeth wel
Vp lyuely springes, from out the holy goost.
From Libanus, my wurde that mountayne clere,
Thou waterest the gardens fine or course
Of all good folke, that in thy waye appere,
Cum blast my gardeyn, that I may it trye:
Cum Southwynde eke, cum consolacion
And cherysh it, least sum part hap to dye.
The fragrant smell of truth may from her flow.
xxxiiii. The Spouse to her Beloued.
The Argument.
After the north and southwynde haue so long blowen vpon the churche that her fruites of pacience, humblenes, obedience and charitie are rype: she calleth Christe vnto her his gardeyn: desyryng hym to eat his fruites, that is to accept for good the wurkes, which she through fayth in hym hath brought furth: syngyng as foloweth.
Let my best Beloued
Whome mercie hath moued,
To make me his gardeyn:
My wurkes, for his blood sake
The fruites let hym good make,
Whiche grow in my gardeyn.
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The .iiii. Chapter.
The canticles or Balades of Salomon | |