 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
61
35. The Seven Joys of the Virgin in Heaven, II
Septem gaudia beate marie
Gaude, of uirgins þe freshest floure,
In maydenhede a launtern of odour,
In reuerence, worschippe and honour,
Transcendens splendiferum,
The princes of aungelis in Ierachie,
The beaute of blessed seyntes so hiȝe,
Passynge also by alle clergye
A dignitate munerum.
In maydenhede a launtern of odour,
In reuerence, worschippe and honour,
Transcendens splendiferum,
The princes of aungelis in Ierachie,
The beaute of blessed seyntes so hiȝe,
Passynge also by alle clergye
A dignitate munerum.
Gaude, spouse of god, so clere
As the lyȝt of þe day þat schynethe here,
By cours of þe planetis in the spere
Solis datur lumine.
So þou makest þat glorious cite
In pees Ioye by the syght of the,
Schinynge and schewynge in alle degre
Lucis plenitudine.
As the lyȝt of þe day þat schynethe here,
By cours of þe planetis in the spere
Solis datur lumine.
So þou makest þat glorious cite
In pees Ioye by the syght of the,
Schinynge and schewynge in alle degre
Lucis plenitudine.
Gaude, uessel of alle uertu,
Schinynge as heuen in hyde and hewe,
At whos commaundynge hangeth ful trewe
Tota celi curia,
The blessediste and benigneste þat euer grewe,
Worthyeste and clenest þat euer man knewe,
Moder and norice of criste Ihū,
Veneratur in gloria.
Schinynge as heuen in hyde and hewe,
At whos commaundynge hangeth ful trewe
Tota celi curia,
The blessediste and benigneste þat euer grewe,
Worthyeste and clenest þat euer man knewe,
Moder and norice of criste Ihū,
Veneratur in gloria.
62
Gaude be þe, bonde of ful good wille,
As loue to loue that neuer thouȝt ille
In parfyte charite and pite þer-tille
Iuncta sic altissimo,
That what so euer thi wille be
May don for man to make us fre
Aske and þou haste graunted the
A ihū dulcissimo.
As loue to loue that neuer thouȝt ille
In parfyte charite and pite þer-tille
Iuncta sic altissimo,
That what so euer thi wille be
May don for man to make us fre
Aske and þou haste graunted the
A ihū dulcissimo.
Gaude, moder of wrecches wilde,
The fader of heuen þat gat þi childe
As a fre kynge to his douȝter mylde
Dabit te colentibus
A couenabel rewarde to his mede
And ordeyned so him þat he schal spede,
A sete for thy loue where is no drede
Regni in celestibus.
The fader of heuen þat gat þi childe
As a fre kynge to his douȝter mylde
Dabit te colentibus
A couenabel rewarde to his mede
And ordeyned so him þat he schal spede,
A sete for thy loue where is no drede
Regni in celestibus.
Gaude, mayden cristes moder,
Thow art oure voket and he oure broþer—
Oonly þou seruyd þis and noon oþer,
O virgo piissima,
Aboue alle creatures for to bee,
In sight, astate and dignite,
That thow art þe holy trinite
Sessione proxima.
Thow art oure voket and he oure broþer—
Oonly þou seruyd þis and noon oþer,
O virgo piissima,
Aboue alle creatures for to bee,
In sight, astate and dignite,
That thow art þe holy trinite
Sessione proxima.
Gaude, mayde and moder clene,
Siker and sure, fayre lady schene,
Be graunt of þe godhede—þis I mene,
Quod hec septem gaudia,
Thei schal neuer sclake, thei schal neuer sece,
Nor neuer fade ne neuer decrece,
But be freshe and dure and euer encrece
Per eterna secula.
Siker and sure, fayre lady schene,
Be graunt of þe godhede—þis I mene,
Quod hec septem gaudia,
Thei schal neuer sclake, thei schal neuer sece,
Nor neuer fade ne neuer decrece,
But be freshe and dure and euer encrece
Per eterna secula.
Amen.
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