 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
142. Though I Have Been a Wretch, I Hope of Mercy
O blissed god, þat art al-miȝti,
þu arte ful of goodnesse, euer full of mercy.
how curteys and howe mercyfull þu art to mankynde,
how louly & piteful, may no man haue mynde.
for mankynde thowe tokist both flesshe and blood,
of þe blessed virgyne mary, which euer was meke and good.
for this good and many oþer, I thanke þe,
mekely euermore seyng hertly, mercy & gramercy!
þu arte ful of goodnesse, euer full of mercy.
how curteys and howe mercyfull þu art to mankynde,
how louly & piteful, may no man haue mynde.
for mankynde thowe tokist both flesshe and blood,
of þe blessed virgyne mary, which euer was meke and good.
for this good and many oþer, I thanke þe,
mekely euermore seyng hertly, mercy & gramercy!
With hard peynes þu woldist by us vpone þe rode tre,
but many dispites and reproues þu sofredist for me,
Angry wer the wordis which þu sofred for mane;
But angeryer were þe betyng þen I may tell or kan.
A pytefull Ihū, in peynes blessed mote þu be,
þat þu woldist such dyseases sofre so for me.
Lo! ihū, I can non oþer but lift vp myn hert only,
and euer sey with louly chere, mercy and gramercy!
but many dispites and reproues þu sofredist for me,
Angry wer the wordis which þu sofred for mane;
But angeryer were þe betyng þen I may tell or kan.
A pytefull Ihū, in peynes blessed mote þu be,
þat þu woldist such dyseases sofre so for me.
Lo! ihū, I can non oþer but lift vp myn hert only,
and euer sey with louly chere, mercy and gramercy!
218
Thyne hede þu bowdist all a-downe to here me full mekely,
Thowe spreddist thyn armes all a-brode to take me to mercy,
Thowe schewdist thyn hert thurgh þi syde vpone þe rode tre.
Thi blissed loue þu graunte vs, þat euer is so fre.
In tokne þu wilt wissche vs, in dedes and in thouȝtis,
To þe crosse þi fete were nayled, whith greet and full sore peynes.
A! good ihū, what schall I sey to þe, þat art so goodly?
But euer I cry nowe louly, mercy and gramercy!
Thowe spreddist thyn armes all a-brode to take me to mercy,
Thowe schewdist thyn hert thurgh þi syde vpone þe rode tre.
Thi blissed loue þu graunte vs, þat euer is so fre.
In tokne þu wilt wissche vs, in dedes and in thouȝtis,
To þe crosse þi fete were nayled, whith greet and full sore peynes.
A! good ihū, what schall I sey to þe, þat art so goodly?
But euer I cry nowe louly, mercy and gramercy!
Ȝit lorde almiȝt, blessed mote þu be!
ffor many are þe benefetys þat þu haste yeuene to me,
ffor riȝt wittys and riȝt lemys, my lyfelode also,
ffull many oþer vertues and ȝiftes many moo.
But sori may I be, if I spend not deuli
All thise ȝiftes ȝeuen to me freli.
And, lord, to ȝeue mercy euer þu arte redy,
Therfor trustly I sey, mercy and gramercy!
ffor many are þe benefetys þat þu haste yeuene to me,
ffor riȝt wittys and riȝt lemys, my lyfelode also,
ffull many oþer vertues and ȝiftes many moo.
But sori may I be, if I spend not deuli
All thise ȝiftes ȝeuen to me freli.
And, lord, to ȝeue mercy euer þu arte redy,
Therfor trustly I sey, mercy and gramercy!
Witte and kunnynge haue I none, þat goodnesse for to telle,
Howe plentefull þi mercy is, may no man rede ne spelle.
To them is mercy nedefull þat haue þe falsely serued,
As seruauntis vnkynde, which haue them-selfe deceyued.
But nowe, for þer is none so vntryisty, so vnthende, I hope, as I,
To þe I ȝelde me gylty, for euer I hope in mercy.
Howe plentefull þi mercy is, may no man rede ne spelle.
To them is mercy nedefull þat haue þe falsely serued,
As seruauntis vnkynde, which haue them-selfe deceyued.
But nowe, for þer is none so vntryisty, so vnthende, I hope, as I,
To þe I ȝelde me gylty, for euer I hope in mercy.
219
To be to the a trewe seruaunt, With bitter deth þu bouȝtist me,
And in thi seruyce recheles, fals and vnthende I a[m] to þe.
A mercyfull ihū, what shall I, suche a wrecche, þen do?
That haue ben so synfull, so proude and wykkyde also.
But though I be wrecchyd, ȝit I clepe and cry
To þe, almiȝti ihū, for euer I hope of mercy.
And in thi seruyce recheles, fals and vnthende I a[m] to þe.
A mercyfull ihū, what shall I, suche a wrecche, þen do?
That haue ben so synfull, so proude and wykkyde also.
But though I be wrecchyd, ȝit I clepe and cry
To þe, almiȝti ihū, for euer I hope of mercy.
I haue also misspendede my witt, þu hast ȝeue to me,
With many dyuers thouȝtis, I haue ofte misplesede þe.
What þu hast me forbode, þat haue I do;
Aȝenst, lorde, þi commandementis I haue done also.
ffor all thise defautis, peynes though I be worthi,
Ȝit, lord, shewe me grace, for euer I hope in mercy.
With many dyuers thouȝtis, I haue ofte misplesede þe.
What þu hast me forbode, þat haue I do;
Aȝenst, lorde, þi commandementis I haue done also.
ffor all thise defautis, peynes though I be worthi,
Ȝit, lord, shewe me grace, for euer I hope in mercy.
Synned I haue in pride, wrath & enuy,
In slouthe of þi seruice, couetyse, gloteny & lechery.
ffor thise synnes and oþer moo, If riȝt dome should be do,
As a wrecche as I am, euer I shoulde dwelle in woo.
But mercyfull iuge, to yeue grace euer þu art redy,
I put me therfor in þi dome, for euer I hope of mercy.
In slouthe of þi seruice, couetyse, gloteny & lechery.
ffor thise synnes and oþer moo, If riȝt dome should be do,
As a wrecche as I am, euer I shoulde dwelle in woo.
But mercyfull iuge, to yeue grace euer þu art redy,
I put me therfor in þi dome, for euer I hope of mercy.
A pyteful ihū, longe tyme it were, I wote well,
my synnes, my freelte, to shewe þe nowe euery dell,
Also, lord, sith it is so that all thyng is knowe to the,
ffor the may no thyng be hidde, priuy or pert wheþer it be,
But ȝit, lord, whath cometh to mynde, To þe I knowleche mekely.
ffor thoughe a wrecche I haue bene, ȝit I hope of mercy.
my synnes, my freelte, to shewe þe nowe euery dell,
Also, lord, sith it is so that all thyng is knowe to the,
ffor the may no thyng be hidde, priuy or pert wheþer it be,
But ȝit, lord, whath cometh to mynde, To þe I knowleche mekely.
ffor thoughe a wrecche I haue bene, ȝit I hope of mercy.
220
Nowe, lord, I haue shewed þe my freelte & synnes all;
To þe, crist, good ihū, wepynge I crye and calle.
Though thus falsely I haue lyuede, nowe me repent sore.
What I þe pray with sorouful hert, grawnt me nowe gostly,
ffor euermore, lorde ihū crist, trustly I hope in mercy.
To þe, crist, good ihū, wepynge I crye and calle.
Though thus falsely I haue lyuede, nowe me repent sore.
What I þe pray with sorouful hert, grawnt me nowe gostly,
ffor euermore, lorde ihū crist, trustly I hope in mercy.
Grace nowe me grawnte my synnes to forsake,
And fro hens forward neuer them to take.
But euer in leuyng, by nyȝt and day,
What is to thi plesyng and most to thi pay,
That geue me grace to do to my lyues ende.
And when I shall hens goo, to thi blisse þu me sende.
And though I turne aȝen to synne, as euer þe flesshe is redy,
Ȝit graunt me þat I hope to wynn, good ihū, thy mercy.
And fro hens forward neuer them to take.
But euer in leuyng, by nyȝt and day,
What is to thi plesyng and most to thi pay,
That geue me grace to do to my lyues ende.
And when I shall hens goo, to thi blisse þu me sende.
And though I turne aȝen to synne, as euer þe flesshe is redy,
Ȝit graunt me þat I hope to wynn, good ihū, thy mercy.
Nowe, lord, for hem þat ben deed, mercy I aske dewly,
And for hem whiche ledde her lyfe ofte also synfully.
ffast for þi modir loue, and oþer that be in blisse,
To me, synfull, and alle oþer, A riȝt wey þu vs wisse.
And, good lorde, suffre thow vs oure tyme not for to spille,
But euer, ihesu, to do þat what is þi wille.
And for hem whiche ledde her lyfe ofte also synfully.
ffast for þi modir loue, and oþer that be in blisse,
To me, synfull, and alle oþer, A riȝt wey þu vs wisse.
And, good lorde, suffre thow vs oure tyme not for to spille,
But euer, ihesu, to do þat what is þi wille.
Graunt vs also in oure ende to take thi sacramentis worthily,
and oure synnes forsake, And þen to dye
with full feythe, With mekenesse and chastite,
ffrom hens þu graunt vs to wende with charite.
To þe soules whiche mercy abyde, in peynes ful strong,
Graunt hem, lorde, som remedy for they thynke wel longe.
and oure synnes forsake, And þen to dye
with full feythe, With mekenesse and chastite,
ffrom hens þu graunt vs to wende with charite.
To þe soules whiche mercy abyde, in peynes ful strong,
Graunt hem, lorde, som remedy for they thynke wel longe.
221
And though they be in peynes strong, ȝit mercy they hope to haue,
And aftir þer sorowes they hope þat thowe wilte hem saue.
Therfore lorde of pyte, ihū, þat dydest one þe tree,
Sore sighyng, I pray to the with bitter teris, as þu mayste see.
Besechynge also mekely, nowe for oure synnes we be sory,
That fully what we hope, trustely graunt vs þat graciously.
Ihū þat art almiȝti, Nowe and euer, þi mercy.
And aftir þer sorowes they hope þat thowe wilte hem saue.
Therfore lorde of pyte, ihū, þat dydest one þe tree,
Sore sighyng, I pray to the with bitter teris, as þu mayste see.
Besechynge also mekely, nowe for oure synnes we be sory,
That fully what we hope, trustely graunt vs þat graciously.
Ihū þat art almiȝti, Nowe and euer, þi mercy.
Amen, ihūs.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |