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English Lyrics of the XIIIth Century


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[section]
 1. 
1. Sunset on Calvary.
 2. 
2. Penitence for Wasted Life.
 3. 
3. ‘On God Ureisun of Ure Lefdi.’
 4. 
[4. Stabat iuxta Christi Crucem.]
 5. 
5. A Prisoner's Prayer.
 6. 
6. ‘Sumer Is Icumen In.’
 7. 
7. Now Comes the Blast of Winter.
 8. 
8. I Walk with Sorrow.
 9. 
9. Love's Madness.
 10A. 
10. Death's Wither-Clench. [A.]
 10B. 
[10. Death's Wither-Clench. B.]
 11A. 
11. Three Sorrowful Tidings. [A.]
 11B. 
[11. Three Sorrowful Tidings. B.]
 12A. 
12. Three Sorrowful Things. [A.]
 12B. 
[12. Three Sorrowful Things. B.]
 13. 
13. Memorare Novissima Tua.
 14. 
14. A Warning to Sir Eode.
 15. 
15. A Prayer to the Redeemer.
 16. 
16. Mater Salutaris.
 17A. 
17. Of One That Is So Fair and Bright. [A.]
 17B. 
[17. Of One That Is So Fair and Bright. B.]
 18. 
18. A Prayer of the Five Joys.
 19. 
19. The Lily with Five Leaves.
 20. 
20. Shroud and Grave.
 21A. 
21. Tell Me, Wight in the Broom. [A.]
 21B. 
[21. Tell Me, Wight in the Broom. B.]
 22. 
22. Gaude Virgo Mater Christi.
 23. 
23. The Ten Commandments.
 24. 
24. A Light Is Come to the World.
 25. 
25. The Bargain of Judas.
 26. 
26. The Journey of the Three Kings.
 27. 
27. Look on Me with Thy Sweet Eyes.
 28a. 
28a. Doomsday.
 28b. 
28b. Doomsday.
 29. 
29. The Latemest Day. [A.]
 29. 
[29. The Latemest Day. B.]
 30. 
30. When the Turf is Thy Tower.
 31. 
31. I Sing of One That is Matchless.
 32A. 
32. A Prayer of Penitence to Our Lady. [A.]
 32B. 
[32. A Prayer of Penitence to Our Lady. [B.]
 32C. 
[32. A Prayer of Penitence to Our Lady. [C.]
 33. 
33. Aspice Mitissime Conditor.
 34. 
34. Man's Leman on the Rood.
 35A. 
35. My Leman on the Rood. I. [A.]
 35B. 
[35. My Leman on the Rood. I. B.]
 36. 
36. My Leman on the Rood. II.
 37. 
37. My Leman on the Rood. III.
 38. 
38. Over the Bier of the Worldling.
 39. 
39. Will and Wit.
 40. 
40. Weal Is a Cursed Thing.
 41. 
41. The Five Blisses.
 42. 
42. An Antiphon of St. Thomas of Canterbury.
 43. 
43. Friar Thomas de Hales' Love Ron.
 44. 
44. Gabriel's Greeting to Our Lady.
 45. 
45. Jesus Sorrows for His Mother.
 46A. 
46. This World's Bliss Will Not Last. [A.]
 46B. 
[46. This World's Bliss Will Not Last. B.]
 47. 
47. Our Lady Sorrows for Her Son.
 48. 
48. ‘Vbi Sount Qui Ante Nos Fuerount.’
 49A. 
49. Dialogue between Our Lady and Jesus on the Cross. [A.]
 49B. 
[49. Dialogue between Our Lady and Jesus. B.]
 50. 
50. ‘Swete Ihesu King of Blisse.’
 51. 
51. ‘Le Regret de Maximian.’
 52. 
52. The Thrush and the Nightingale.
 53. 
53. What Love Is Like.
 54. 
54. A Springtide Song of the Redemption.
 55. 
55. A Prayer to the Mother of Mildness.
 56A. 
56. The Mind of the Passion. [A.]
 56B. 
[56. The Mind of the Passion. B.]
 57. 
57. Be Free with What Christ Sends.
 58. 
58. World's Bliss Have Good Day.
 59. 
59. A Hymn to the Heavenly Father.
 60. 
60. A Song to the Queen of Heaven.
 61. 
61. Mother Mild, Flower of All.
 62. 
62. Now Springs the Spray.
 63. 
63. A Spring Song of Love to Jesus.
 64. 
64. A Song of Sorrow for the Passion.
 65. 
65. An Orison of Penitence to Our Lady.
 66. 
66. I Will Become a Friar.
 67. 
67. A Bidding Prayer.
 68. 
68. Our Lady Help Us at Our Ending.
 69. 
69. In Sign of Love to Man.
 70A. 
70. Decem Precepta. [A.]
 70B. 
70. Decem Precepta. B.]
 71. 
71. Proprietates Mortis.
 72. 
72. A Song of Lewes.
 73. 
73. From Earth to Earth.
 74. 
74. On the Follies of Fashion.
 88. 
[88. A Prayer of Penitence to God Almighty. B.]

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34

24. A Light Is Come to the World.

[_]

Trinity Coll. Camb. MS. 323.

On leome is in þis world ilist,
þer-of is muchel pris;
a-risen is god & þat is rist
from deþe to lif.
Al for ure redempciun
He þolede pine & passiun,
Derne wnden & greue;
He broutte to saluaciun
þe world þat was ibrot adun
þuru adam & eue.
Of a meide he was iborin,
y-comin of heiye cunne;
y-brout he hauit þat wes for-loren
þuru adames sunne.
He hauit ibrout of pine,
þat he weren ibunden inne
wid serrue & herde bend,
To ioye þat brithe suinit
& neuer er ne finit,
World o butin hend.
Al þat of rouþe rouste
Wepen he misten heþe
þo þe gyuis him bousten
For to don to deþe—
Boþen yung & holde
Hardi he weren & bolde,
A-wedde he weren y-nou.
Ful feste he was iholden
þo iudas him solde
Wid traisun & wid wou.
35

A reuli reid he funden,
þe gyuis euer-uihon,
þo he ihesum beonden
To a pileir of ston;
To him ha weren ful [t]ore,
I-burst asse wedde bore,
So pilatis hem heit.
Ha bueten him so sore
His bodi barst a-more,
þat blod ron to his fehid.
His bodi þat wes feir & gent
& his neb suo scene
Wes bi-spit & al to-rend,
His rude wes worþen grene.
Bufetes him weren iyeuene;
Of serue þer wes euene
þo he bigon to bleden.
He bahit wid milde steuene
þen suete feder of heuene
fir-yewen hem heore mis-deden.
His suete bodi he stresten
þe rode effer-long;
longius a spere bitaisten
is herte he wor-stong.
Miracle he dude asse he deit drey;
Of is blod as he heng hey,
To longius ron þe streim,
In-to is eyen asse he stoit ney.
Is seisþe heuede & sone he sey
þurru ihesu of bedleim.
36

From him ha weren to-dreuid
Is apostelis heuer-huic on,
Ful on he was bileuit
Wid marie & Sein Iohon.
Tuei þeues þer verrin a-hon,
& þe oþer him beid on bon
Wid rem & reuly cry:
Wenne he come to is trone,
þenchen up-hon him sone
& habben of him mercy.
Hasse he biheuld þe rode,
þe modir þat was of miste
& þer I-sei al ablode
Hir sone þat her wes briste,
Hisse tuo suete honden
Wid nailes al to-ronden,
Is fehit iþurlid bo,
Is suete softe side
I-þurlit depe & wyde—
Wey, þat hire was wo!
Ha isei þe rode stonden,
Hire sone þer-to ibunden
Hoe wroinc hire honden,
Bi-heild his suete þunden.
Þe gyues to him leden
On him for-to greden
Asse þat hoe weren wod.
Hire þucte a miste aweden,
Hire herte bi-gon to bleden,
Teres hoe wep of blod.
37

Lauedi, flur of parradis,—
Nas neuir non so scene—
Ber hure herrinde if þi vil his,
Asse þu ard heuene quene,
To þine sone þat is so brit,
þat he us yeue strenþe & mist
To seruen him wid wunne,
& to scenden þene vichit
þat his humbe day & nicst
To gabben us wid sunne.
Biseich þine sone, asse he uel may,
þat he us alle yeme
Wenne he comit a domis day
Al folc forto demeN.
Wen huic mon for is owen dede
Sal þeir vnderfungen mede,
ful sore us may agrisen.
Wen vour engles bemen blouit,
Lef us him þenne to cnowen,
On his rist hond arisen.
Wenne he scauit is wndis
þat reuful beet to seine,
Help us, leuedi, þe stunde
Wen he scauit is tenne.
‘God, ye awariede in-to wo,
To pine þat sal lesten OO.
I-Greiþid hit was hou yore.’
To loft up buven þat he seit to:
‘Comit, iblesede, in-to ro
þat lesten sal eueir more.’
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