 | The Harley Lyrics |  |
29 GOD, ÞAT AL ÞIS MYHTES MAY
God, þat al þis myhtes may,
in heuene ant erþe þy wille ys oo;
ichabbe be losed mony a day,
er ant late ybe þy foo;
ich wes to wyte ant wiste my lay,
longe habbe holde me þerfro;
vol of merci þou art ay,
al vngreyþe icham to þe to go.
in heuene ant erþe þy wille ys oo;
ichabbe be losed mony a day,
er ant late ybe þy foo;
ich wes to wyte ant wiste my lay,
longe habbe holde me þerfro;
vol of merci þou art ay,
al vngreyþe icham to þe to go.
To go to him þat haþ ous boht,
my gode deden bueþ fol smalle;
of þe werkes þat ich ha wroht
þe beste is bittrore þen þe galle.
My god ich wiste, y nolde hit noht,
in folie me wes luef to falle;
when y myself haue þourhsoht,
y knowe me for þe wrst of alle.
my gode deden bueþ fol smalle;
of þe werkes þat ich ha wroht
þe beste is bittrore þen þe galle.
My god ich wiste, y nolde hit noht,
in folie me wes luef to falle;
when y myself haue þourhsoht,
y knowe me for þe wrst of alle.
God, þat deȝedest on þe rod,
al þis world to forþren ant fylle,
for ous þou sheddest þi suete blod;
þat y ha don me lykeþ ylle;
bote er aȝeyn þe stiþ y stod,
er ant late, loude ant stille,
of myne deden fynde y non god;
Lord, of me þou do þy wille.
al þis world to forþren ant fylle,
for ous þou sheddest þi suete blod;
þat y ha don me lykeþ ylle;
bote er aȝeyn þe stiþ y stod,
er ant late, loude ant stille,
of myne deden fynde y non god;
Lord, of me þou do þy wille.
In herte ne myhte y neuer bowe,
ne to my kunde Louerd drawe;
my meste vo ys my loues trowe,
Crist ne stod me neuer hawe.
Ich holde me vilore þen a Gyw,
ant y myself wolde bue knowe.
Lord, merci, rewe me now;
reyse vp þat ys falle lowe!
ne to my kunde Louerd drawe;
my meste vo ys my loues trowe,
Crist ne stod me neuer hawe.
Ich holde me vilore þen a Gyw,
ant y myself wolde bue knowe.
Lord, merci, rewe me now;
reyse vp þat ys falle lowe!
69
God, þat al þis world shal hede,
þy gode myht þou hast in wolde;
on erþe þou come for oure nede,
for ous sunful were boht ant solde.
When we bueþ dempned after vr dede
a domesday, when ryhtes bueþ tolde,
when we shule suen þy wounde blede,
to speke þenne we bueþ vnbolde.
þy gode myht þou hast in wolde;
on erþe þou come for oure nede,
for ous sunful were boht ant solde.
When we bueþ dempned after vr dede
a domesday, when ryhtes bueþ tolde,
when we shule suen þy wounde blede,
to speke þenne we bueþ vnbolde.
Vnbold icham to bidde þe bote,
swyþe vnreken ys my réés;
þy wille ne welk y ner afote,
to wickede werkes y me chéés;
fals y wes in crop ant rote
when y seyde þy lore wes léés.
Iesu Crist, þou be mi bote,
so boun icham to make my péés.
swyþe vnreken ys my réés;
þy wille ne welk y ner afote,
to wickede werkes y me chéés;
fals y wes in crop ant rote
when y seyde þy lore wes léés.
Iesu Crist, þou be mi bote,
so boun icham to make my péés.
Al vnreken ys my ro,
Louerd Crist, whet shal y say?
Of myne deden fynde y non fro,
ne noþyng þat y þenke may.
Vnwrþ icham to come þe to,
y serue þe nouþer nyht ne day.
In þy merci y me do,
God, þat al þis myhtes may.
Louerd Crist, whet shal y say?
Of myne deden fynde y non fro,
ne noþyng þat y þenke may.
Vnwrþ icham to come þe to,
y serue þe nouþer nyht ne day.
In þy merci y me do,
God, þat al þis myhtes may.
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