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140. Out of Sin My Soul Unbind
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 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
140. Out of Sin My Soul Unbind
Almyȝti god, maker of Heuene,
Erthe & Eyre, Water & Wynde,
to þe I calle with myld steuene,
That flesche & blode tokyste of mankynde.
Out of synne my sowle vnbynde
That for me deydiste apon a tree!
To rekene, y am ful fer be-hynde,
But, Ihū, þy grace, & haue mercy on me!
Erthe & Eyre, Water & Wynde,
to þe I calle with myld steuene,
That flesche & blode tokyste of mankynde.
Out of synne my sowle vnbynde
That for me deydiste apon a tree!
To rekene, y am ful fer be-hynde,
But, Ihū, þy grace, & haue mercy on me!
ffor yff y scholde ryȝtwyse rekenynge make
ffro þat tyme þat y was bore,
Then woldest þu vengeaunce take,
Than were y loste for euer more.
Thow haste ordeyned salue for euery sore
And mercy, sowles leche to bee;
That þu haste bouȝte, lette neuer be lore.
Wherefore, Ihū, have mercy on me.
ffro þat tyme þat y was bore,
Then woldest þu vengeaunce take,
Than were y loste for euer more.
215
And mercy, sowles leche to bee;
That þu haste bouȝte, lette neuer be lore.
Wherefore, Ihū, have mercy on me.
ffor with-out þe no man hath myȝt,
Pore ne ryche, lough ne hygh.
Thenke how þu haste mercy be-hyȝt
To all tho þat aske hit mekelygh,
With woful herte & wepynge ye.
I ȝilde me, lorde, now thus to the,
And for my mysdedes merci I crye,
That, lord Ihū, þu have mercy on me.
Pore ne ryche, lough ne hygh.
Thenke how þu haste mercy be-hyȝt
To all tho þat aske hit mekelygh,
With woful herte & wepynge ye.
I ȝilde me, lorde, now thus to the,
And for my mysdedes merci I crye,
That, lord Ihū, þu have mercy on me.
Mercy! for þy comaundement
That I have ofte tymes y-broke,
And in þy seruyse be neclygent,
And mony a wylde word haue spooke.
What were to þe to ben a-wrooke
On hym þat may noþer fyȝt ne fflee?
Lette neuer thyn Eris fro me be loke,
But euer, good Ihū, haue merci on me.
That I have ofte tymes y-broke,
And in þy seruyse be neclygent,
And mony a wylde word haue spooke.
What were to þe to ben a-wrooke
On hym þat may noþer fyȝt ne fflee?
Lette neuer thyn Eris fro me be loke,
But euer, good Ihū, haue merci on me.
Now merci! I am in wyll no more
ffrom hennes forth to do trespase.
Now mercy, lord, I be not lore,
But part with me al of þy grace,
That I may se þy swete fface,
As þu art god in trynyte,
In Heuene þer to haue a place
Wher, Ihū, þu haue mercy on me.
ffrom hennes forth to do trespase.
Now mercy, lord, I be not lore,
But part with me al of þy grace,
That I may se þy swete fface,
As þu art god in trynyte,
In Heuene þer to haue a place
Wher, Ihū, þu haue mercy on me.
Amen.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |