 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
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34. The Seven Joys of the Virgin in Heaven, I
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Hit is y-founde and y-write þat oure lady apered to seint Thomas of caunterbury and badde him and tauȝt him to worschipe here for þe seuene ioyes durable and euerelastinge þat sche haþ now in heuene as wel as hede ede now for þe five temperal ioyes þat he hadde on erþe þe which beþ passed and þese beþ þe seuene þat folweþ.
Be glad, of al maydens flourre,
Þat hast in heuene swich honoure
To passe in hye blisse
Aungelys and oþur seintȝ also;
Þe ioye is nouȝt like þer-to
Of eny þat þer isse.
Þat hast in heuene swich honoure
To passe in hye blisse
Aungelys and oþur seintȝ also;
Þe ioye is nouȝt like þer-to
Of eny þat þer isse.
Be gladde, goddis spouse briȝt,
Þat ȝeuest þer gretter liȝt
To þe heuenli place
Þan euir dede sunne on erþe here
When hit was briȝtis and most clere
In þe midday space.
Þat ȝeuest þer gretter liȝt
To þe heuenli place
Þan euir dede sunne on erþe here
When hit was briȝtis and most clere
In þe midday space.
Be glad, of vertues vessel clene,
To whom obeiþ as riȝt quene
Þe court of heuen on hyȝe,
And worschipeþ wiþoute stynting
Þorwe þankinges and be blessing
And endeles melodie.
To whom obeiþ as riȝt quene
Þe court of heuen on hyȝe,
And worschipeþ wiþoute stynting
Þorwe þankinges and be blessing
And endeles melodie.
Be glad, moder of ihū dere,
Þat spedist alle way þi prayere
By-fore þe Trinite.
As god wil, suich is þi wille;
Þere may no wiȝt sinful spille
On whom þou hast pite.
Þat spedist alle way þi prayere
By-fore þe Trinite.
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Þere may no wiȝt sinful spille
On whom þou hast pite.
Be glad, moder of heuene king,
Swich he wol, aftir plesing,
To þi seruaunt trewe
Graunt boþe mede and reward
Here and also aftirward
In Ioye þat euer is newe.
Swich he wol, aftir plesing,
To þi seruaunt trewe
Graunt boþe mede and reward
Here and also aftirward
In Ioye þat euer is newe.
Be glad, mayden and moder swete,
Next þe sone þou hast a sete,
I-glorified blisfulli.
And þis we saddely beleue,
But how, openly descriue
Ne may no þing erþeli.
Next þe sone þou hast a sete,
I-glorified blisfulli.
And þis we saddely beleue,
But how, openly descriue
Ne may no þing erþeli.
Be glad, of oure gladnesse welle,
Þat art seker ay to dwelle
In mirþe þat haþ non ende,
Which schal neuer were ne wast;
Þer-to bringe vs, moder chast,
When we hen wende.
Þat art seker ay to dwelle
In mirþe þat haþ non ende,
Which schal neuer were ne wast;
Þer-to bringe vs, moder chast,
When we hen wende.
Þus, þou blessed quene of heuene,
I worschipe þe wiþ ioyes seuene
In alle þat y may.
When y schal leue þis soreful lyf,
Be to me redy in þat strif,
Lady, y þe pray.
I worschipe þe wiþ ioyes seuene
In alle þat y may.
When y schal leue þis soreful lyf,
Be to me redy in þat strif,
Lady, y þe pray.
Lady, for þese ioyes seuene
And for þi gladnesse five,
Bringe me to þe blisse of heuene
Þorwe grace of clene lyfe.
And for þi gladnesse five,
Bringe me to þe blisse of heuene
Þorwe grace of clene lyfe.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |