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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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29. The Latemest Day. [A.]

[_]

A. Trinity Coll. Camb. MS. 323.

Þene latemeste dai, wenne we sulen farren
vt of þisse worlde wid pine & wid care,
Al so we hideir comen naket & bare,
& of ure fule sunnen yewen onsuare.
For nabbe no mon so mukil, al hit wole a-gon—
Is lont & is lude, is hus & is hom—
Þe sorie soule atte dom makit hire mon;
I-vis ne mai at-blenchen crist ure neuer on.
Þenne seit þe sole wid sorie chere:
‘Awei! wrechede bodi, nou þou sal to bere,
& i sal for þine sunnen habben fendes to were.
Ac wey þat þu euere to monne yscapit were!’
Wenne þen latemeste day deit hauit ibrout,
Binimit ure siste, speche, & hure þoutt,
þenne is ure blisse al iturnit to nout,
Bote wose godis wille hauit heir iwrout.
Sone so þe soule beoit ifarein vt,
Me nimit þe licam & prenit in on clut,
þat was heir modi, stronc & suyþe prut,
þat was iwonit to weriin so mony veir srout.
47

Þenne liit þe cleyclot cold alse an ston,
& þe frent striuit to gripen is won;
Þen þe sorie soule makit hire mon,
Alle is frent-men beit iturnit to won.
Nu sal þin halle wid spade ben wrout,
& þu sal, wreche, þer-inne ben ibrout;
Me wole suopen þin hus & bernen þi bout—
Alle þine mudirkins sulen bein isout.
Þin hus is sone ibuld þer þu salt wonien inne,
Boþe þe wirst & þe rouf sal liggen uppon þin chinne;
Þenne sulen woremes woniin þe wid-innen,
Ne salt þu þe nout weriin wid neppe ne wid pinne.
Nu sal firrotien þine teit & þine tunke
& al þat is wid-innen þe—þi liuerre & þi longe
& þi þrote-bolle wid þat þu soncke—
& þu salt ben in putte ful faste bi-þronge.
Nou nis offered of þe, þi mei ne þi mouwe,
Heo weriet þe weden þat heir were þin owene;
& þou, wrecche beli, lists nu ful louwe,
ac nulle her neuer on nou, here þonkis, þe icnowen.
Wer beit nou þine frend, faire þat þe biheten,
Ofte þe igretten bi weis & bi streteN?
Nu heo wollet, wrecche, þe alle forleten,
for nulle hore neuer on nou, hore stonkis, þe imeten.
Wer boit þine ponewes loue þat þe wereN?
Of þine riche weden nou þu ard al scere;
Bo þu inne þin putte wormis ifere—
Hit boit sone of þe so þu neuer nerre.
48

Wer boit þine disces wid þine suete sonten?
Wer is þi breit & ale, tunnen & þine stonden?
Nu þu salt to putte to wonien wid þe wonde.
A-wei! wy nostu er-ware þis vndeir-stonden?
Nou þu hauest, wrecche, hileuid al to longe
To louien þe riste & hatien þe wronge,
& don sum almes-deden wid þine rist honde,
& bringen us in-to heuene ut of þisse ille londe.
Selde wole me for þe messes lete singen,
Oþeir in holie chireche makin hei offringe;
Me wole for þin haiste make striuinge,
& puten þe wid-uten of alle þine þincge.
Þe wile þu hedest misten to don at þine þille,
Euer þu were abouten us bo forto spillen;
& nou þou salt, wrecche, liggen ful stille,
ac ig sal þine gultis abugen ful ille.
Wi noldes þu wid criste maken us isaiste,
Messen lete singen of þat he þe bitaiste?
Euer þu were abuten to echen þin haiste;
For-þi we boet an hende boþe bipaiste.
Lie, awariede bali, þat neuer þu ne arrise!
Wenne ic þenche þe opon euer me may agrisen;
I sal biueren in vours & chiuerren in ise,
& ben ipinet for þe on ateliche wyse.
A domes-dai to a bittre bacþe we sule bo nakit,
Of brimston & of piche wellinde imakit,
Þer-inne sathanas þe feind us rent wid is rake,
& soþin us wole firsuoleuen þe fundene drake.
49

Þau al þat fur of þis world to-gedere were ibrout,
A-gain þisse hete nere hit rist nout.
Ac we is him aliue þat þer-inne is ibrout!
Alle þes ilke pines þou us hauist woucht.
Wose seiye þene feind, hu lotliche he boe,
Hornes on is heuet & hornes on is cnoe,
Nis non þinc on liue of so ateliche bloe;
Wose come hondur his hont ded he moste boe.
He gonet wid is mouþe & staret wid is eyen,
Of is neose-þurlis comet starke leyen,
Þat fur bernit & springit ut at uche breye;
Wose loke him on, for drede he moste deyen.
As beit is heye-puttes asse a bruþen-leit,
Þat fur sprinkit þer-of wnderliche reid—
Ne mai no mon tellen hu lodliche is þe qued;
Wose lokede him on of drede heo were deed.
Wite we us from prude & wreþe & from honde,
from yissing & sloucþe þat regnet in londe,
Glotonie & horedom—þes sunnes þu ne fonde
If þu uult a domes-dai wid iesu criste þonken.
Ac nomeliche holde we us ut of horedome,
Messes lete we singen & alme don ilome,
& wid holie chireche make we us isome;
Þonne mou we quemen crist at þe stronke dome.
Þe king þat on þe holie treo adammes sunnes bette
For we sculden to heuene sten—o boc so he id sette—
Fur-yeue us ure sunnes þat nou us ne letten,
& make us freo for to bein þer of þe fendes nette.
Bidde we ure louerd for is suete miste
Þat heo beo heuer ure sceeld from þe voule viste,
& lete us hatiin þat wowe & louien þat riste,
& bring us at hure endesid in-to houene liste.
AmeN.
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