 | Yorkshire writers |  |
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Poems of Ms. Cambr. Dd V. 64, fol. 134–142.
Hic incipiunt cantus compassionis Christi & consolacionis eterni (!).
I.
[Vnkynde man, gif kepe til me]
Vnkynde man, gif kepe til meand loke what payne I suffer for þe.
Synful man, on þe I cry,
alanly for þi lufe I dy.
Behalde þe blode fra me downe rennes,
noght for my gylt, bot for þi synnes.
My hende, my fete, with nayles er fest,
syns & vayns al to-brest.
Þe blode owt of my hert-rote,
loke it falles downe to my fote.
Of al þe payne þat I suffer sare,
with-in my hert it greues me mare
Þe vnkyndenes þat I fynd in þe,
þat for þi lufe þus hynged on tre.
Alas, why lufes þou me noght:
and I þi lufe sa dere hase boght?
Bot þou me lufe, þou dose me wrang,
sen I haue loued þe lang.
Twa & thyrty ȝere & mare
I was for þe in trauel sare,
With hungyr, thirst, hete & calde;
For þi lufe bath boght & salde,
Pyned, nayled & done on tre:
All, man, for þe lufe of þe.
Lufe þou me, als þe wele aw,
And fra syn þou þe draw.
I gyf þe my body with woundes sare,
And þare-to sall I gyf þe mare:
Ouer all þis I-wysse,
In erth mi grace, in heuen my blysse.
Ihesus. Amen.
II.
[Lo lemman swete, now may þou se]
Lo lemman swete, now may þou seþat I haue lost my lyf for þe:
What myght I do þe mare?
For-þi I pray þe speciali
þat þou forsake ill company,
þat woundes me so sare,
And take myne armes pryuely,
& do þam in þi tresory,
In what stede sa þou dwelles.
And swete lemman, forget þow noght
þat I þi lufe sa dere haue boght,
And I aske þe noght elles.
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III.
[My trewest tresowre sa trayturly taken]
My trewest tresowre sa trayturly taken,
Sa bytterly bondyn wyth bytand bandes;
How sone of þi seruandes was þou forsaken,
And lathly for my lufe hurld with þair handes.
Sa bytterly bondyn wyth bytand bandes;
How sone of þi seruandes was þou forsaken,
And lathly for my lufe hurld with þair handes.
My well of my wele sa wrangwysly wryed,
Sa pulled owt of preson to Pylate at prime;
Þaire dulles & þaire dyntes ful drerely þou dreed,
When þai schot in þi syght bath slauer & slyme.
Sa pulled owt of preson to Pylate at prime;
Þaire dulles & þaire dyntes ful drerely þou dreed,
When þai schot in þi syght bath slauer & slyme.
My hope of my hele sa hyed to be hanged,
Sa charged with þi crosce & corond with thorne;
Ful sare to þi hert þi steppes þa stanged,
Me thynk þi bak burd breke, it bendes for-borne.
Sa charged with þi crosce & corond with thorne;
Ful sare to þi hert þi steppes þa stanged,
Me thynk þi bak burd breke, it bendes for-borne.
My salue of my sare sa saryful in syght,
Sa naked and nayled, þi ryg on þe rode
Ful hydusly hyngand; þai heued þe on hyght,
Þai lete þe stab in þe stane, all stekked þat þar stode.
Sa naked and nayled, þi ryg on þe rode
Ful hydusly hyngand; þai heued þe on hyght,
Þai lete þe stab in þe stane, all stekked þat þar stode.
My dere-worthy derlyng sa dolefully dyght,
Sa straytly vpryght streyned on þe rode:
For þi mykel mekenes, þi mercy þi myght,
Þow bete al my bales with bote of þi blode.
Sa straytly vpryght streyned on þe rode:
For þi mykel mekenes, þi mercy þi myght,
Þow bete al my bales with bote of þi blode.
My fender of my fose sa fonden in þe felde,
Sa lufly lyghtand at þe euensang-tyde;
Þi moder and hir menȝhe vnlaced þi scheld,
All weped þat þar were, þi woundes was sa wyde.
Sa lufly lyghtand at þe euensang-tyde;
Þi moder and hir menȝhe vnlaced þi scheld,
All weped þat þar were, þi woundes was sa wyde.
My pereles prynce, als pure I þe pray:
Þe mynde of þis myrour þou lat me noght mysse:
Bot wynd vp my wylle to won wyth þe ay,
Þat þou be beryd in my brest, & bryng me to blysse. AmeN.
Þe mynde of þis myrour þou lat me noght mysse:
Bot wynd vp my wylle to won wyth þe ay,
Þat þou be beryd in my brest, & bryng me to blysse. AmeN.
IV.
[Ihesu, als þow me made & boght]
Ihesu, als þow me made & boght,
þou be my lufe & all my thoght,
and help þat I war to þe broght:
with-owten þe may I do noght.
þou be my lufe & all my thoght,
and help þat I war to þe broght:
with-owten þe may I do noght.
Ihesu, als þou may do þi wille, and nathyn[g] es þat þe may lette:
With þi grace my hert fulfill, my lufe & my lykyng in þe sette.
With þi grace my hert fulfill, my lufe & my lykyng in þe sette.
Ihesu, at þi wille I pray þat I mote be;
All my hert fulfill with perfyte lufe to þe.
Þat I haue done ill, Ihesu forgyf þow me:
And suffer me neuer to spill, Ihesu for þi pyte. Amen.
All my hert fulfill with perfyte lufe to þe.
Þat I haue done ill, Ihesu forgyf þow me:
And suffer me neuer to spill, Ihesu for þi pyte. Amen.
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VI.
[When Adam delf & Eue span, spir, if þou wil spede]
When Adam delf & Eue span, spir, if þou wil spede,
Whare was þan þe pride of man, þat now merres his mede?
Of erth & slame, als was Adam, maked to noyes & nede,
Ar we als he maked to be, whil we þis lyf sal lede.
With I & E, born ar we, als Salomon vs hyght,
To trauel here, whils we ar fere, als fouls to þe flight.
Whare was þan þe pride of man, þat now merres his mede?
Of erth & slame, als was Adam, maked to noyes & nede,
Ar we als he maked to be, whil we þis lyf sal lede.
With I & E, born ar we, als Salomon vs hyght,
To trauel here, whils we ar fere, als fouls to þe flight.
In worlde we ware kast for to kare, to we be broght to wende
Til wele or wa, an of þa twa, to won with-outen ende.
For-þi whils þou may helpe þe now, amend þe & haf mynde
When þou sal ga, he bese þi fa, þat are was here þi frende.
With E & I, I rede for-þi, þou thynk apon þies thre:
What we ar, & what we ware, & what we sal be.
Til wele or wa, an of þa twa, to won with-outen ende.
For-þi whils þou may helpe þe now, amend þe & haf mynde
When þou sal ga, he bese þi fa, þat are was here þi frende.
With E & I, I rede for-þi, þou thynk apon þies thre:
What we ar, & what we ware, & what we sal be.
War þou als wyse praysed in pryce, als was Salomon,
Fayrer fode, of bone & blode, þen was Absalon,
Strengthy & strang, to wreke þi wrang, als euer was Sampson:
Þou ne myght a day, na mare þen þai, dede withstand allon.
With I & E, dede to þe sal com als I þe kenne,
Þou ne wate, in what state, how, ne whare, ne when.
Fayrer fode, of bone & blode, þen was Absalon,
Strengthy & strang, to wreke þi wrang, als euer was Sampson:
Þou ne myght a day, na mare þen þai, dede withstand allon.
With I & E, dede to þe sal com als I þe kenne,
Þou ne wate, in what state, how, ne whare, ne when.
Of erth aght, þat þe was raght, þou sal not haue, I hete,
Bot seuen fote, þer-in to rote, & þi wyndyng-schete.
For-þi gyf, whils þou may lyf, or all gase þat þou gete,
Þi gast fra god, þi godes olod, þi flesch fowled vndur fete.
With I & E, syker þow be þat þi secutowrs
Of þe ne wil rek, bot skelk & skek ful boldly in þi bowrs.
Bot seuen fote, þer-in to rote, & þi wyndyng-schete.
For-þi gyf, whils þou may lyf, or all gase þat þou gete,
Þi gast fra god, þi godes olod, þi flesch fowled vndur fete.
With I & E, syker þow be þat þi secutowrs
Of þe ne wil rek, bot skelk & skek ful boldly in þi bowrs.
Of welth & witt, þis sal be hitt, in world þat þou here wroght,
Rekken þou mon, & ȝelde reson of thyng þat þou here thoght.
May no fals help in þis case, ne cownsel getes þou noght,
Gyft ne grace nane þare gase, bot brok als þou hase boght.
With I & E, þe boke biddes þe, man, be ware of þi werkes:
Terme of þe ȝere hase þou nan here, þi mede bese þer þi merkes.
Rekken þou mon, & ȝelde reson of thyng þat þou here thoght.
May no fals help in þis case, ne cownsel getes þou noght,
Gyft ne grace nane þare gase, bot brok als þou hase boght.
With I & E, þe boke biddes þe, man, be ware of þi werkes:
Terme of þe ȝere hase þou nan here, þi mede bese þer þi merkes.
What may þis be þat I here se, þe fayrehede of þi face?
Þi ble sa bryght, þi mayn þi myght, þi mowth þat miri mas(e)?
Al mon als was to powder passe, to dede when þow gase:
A grysely geste bese þan þi breste in armes til enbrase;
With I & E, syker þou be, þare es nane, I þe hete,
Of al þi kyth, wald slepe þe with, a nyght vnder schete.
Þi ble sa bryght, þi mayn þi myght, þi mowth þat miri mas(e)?
Al mon als was to powder passe, to dede when þow gase:
A grysely geste bese þan þi breste in armes til enbrase;
With I & E, syker þou be, þare es nane, I þe hete,
Of al þi kyth, wald slepe þe with, a nyght vnder schete.
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VII.
[All synnes sal þou hate, thorow castyng of skylle]
All synnes sal þou hate, thorow castyng of skylle,
And ȝherne to gang in þe gate þat es with-owten ille.
Tumbyl noght fra þe state þat þou hase tane þe tille:
It ledes til þe kynges ȝhate, þare þou may layke þi fille.
And ȝherne to gang in þe gate þat es with-owten ille.
Tumbyl noght fra þe state þat þou hase tane þe tille:
It ledes til þe kynges ȝhate, þare þou may layke þi fille.
Here if þou punysch, þe, welth sall þow wynne;
Na wonder it es if þou be in sorow for þi synne.
Somme says þai may se, & blynd ar wyth-Inne:
And if þai now be sett fre, dede sall þam twynne.
Na wonder it es if þou be in sorow for þi synne.
Somme says þai may se, & blynd ar wyth-Inne:
And if þai now be sett fre, dede sall þam twynne.
Dede dynges al sa sare, þat nane may [hym] defende,
And makes many ill to fare, when þai not wende.
I wate nane þat he will spare, with all will he lende:
For-þi of syn̄ make þe bare, þou knawes not þi ende.
And makes many ill to fare, when þai not wende.
I wate nane þat he will spare, with all will he lende:
For-þi of syn̄ make þe bare, þou knawes not þi ende.
Now may we qwake trembiland, for drede to law ly:
Þe beme blawes at owre hand, þe dome es fast by;
Þe keyng comes with hys hoste, to fell his enmy,
And al þe prowde wyth þair boste, he demes to dy.
Þe beme blawes at owre hand, þe dome es fast by;
Þe keyng comes with hys hoste, to fell his enmy,
And al þe prowde wyth þair boste, he demes to dy.
Me thynkes it rynges in mi nere: “dede ryse, to be demed!”
Bot hym þe deuel may noght dere, þat here hase Criste qwemed.
Al þe wikked in þat were til hel-fire es flemed,
Þe keyng hym-self schot þe spere, for hym it best semed.
Bot hym þe deuel may noght dere, þat here hase Criste qwemed.
Al þe wikked in þat were til hel-fire es flemed,
Þe keyng hym-self schot þe spere, for hym it best semed.
Þat day owre ioy sal be-gyn, þat here suffers pyne,
Owre flesch wytt of mykel wyn, & bryght as son̄ schyne;
Owre setels heuen ar with-in—me lyst sytt in myne.
Lufe Criste & hate syn, & sa pur[ch]es þe þine.
Owre flesch wytt of mykel wyn, & bryght as son̄ schyne;
Owre setels heuen ar with-in—me lyst sytt in myne.
Lufe Criste & hate syn, & sa pur[ch]es þe þine.
VIII.
[Mercy es maste in my mynde, for mercy es þat I mast prayse.]
Mercy es maste in my mynde, for mercy es þat I mast prayse.
Mercy es curtayse & kynde, fra al mischeues he mai me rayse.
Allas, sa lang I haue bene blynd, & walked will al-wayse:
Mercy walde I fayne fynd, to lede me in my last dayse.
Mercy, lede me at þe last, when I owt of þis world sal wende:
To þe cryand I trayst fast þat þou saue me fra þe fende.
Mercy es curtayse & kynde, fra al mischeues he mai me rayse.
Allas, sa lang I haue bene blynd, & walked will al-wayse:
Mercy walde I fayne fynd, to lede me in my last dayse.
Mercy, lede me at þe last, when I owt of þis world sal wende:
To þe cryand I trayst fast þat þou saue me fra þe fende.
Mercy es trew as any stele, when it es ryght vp soght;
Wha-sa will mercy fele, seke it, for it fayles noght.
Mercy es syght of al my hele, þerfore I haue it mast in thoght;
Mercy likes me sa wele, for thorogh mercy was I boght.
Ine wate what I may do or say til mercy, þat es ay sa gode:
Þou graunte mercy þat mercy may, þat es my solace & my fode.
Wha-sa will mercy fele, seke it, for it fayles noght.
Mercy es syght of al my hele, þerfore I haue it mast in thoght;
Mercy likes me sa wele, for thorogh mercy was I boght.
Ine wate what I may do or say til mercy, þat es ay sa gode:
Þou graunte mercy þat mercy may, þat es my solace & my fode.
Mercy walde I fayne honowre, it es sa swete vnto my syght;
It lyes in my creatoure, þat made vs of his awen myght.
Mercy es al my socoure, til lede me to þe land of lyght,
And bring me til þe rial toure, whare I mai se mi god sa brygh(t).
God of al, lorde & keyng, I pray þe Ihesu, be my frende,
Sa þat I may þi mercy syng in þi blys with-owten ende.
It lyes in my creatoure, þat made vs of his awen myght.
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And bring me til þe rial toure, whare I mai se mi god sa brygh(t).
God of al, lorde & keyng, I pray þe Ihesu, be my frende,
Sa þat I may þi mercy syng in þi blys with-owten ende.
Mercy es sa hegh a poynt, þar may na syn it suppryse.
To þi mercy es my hert noynt, for þer-in al my likyng lyse:
Lord, lat it noght be aloynt, when þou sal sett þi gret assyse;
With þi mercy my sawle anoynt, when I sal come to þi Iugise.
Til þe Iuge sal I com, bot I wate noght my day:
Mercy es bath al & som, þar-in I trayst & after pray.
To þi mercy es my hert noynt, for þer-in al my likyng lyse:
Lord, lat it noght be aloynt, when þou sal sett þi gret assyse;
With þi mercy my sawle anoynt, when I sal come to þi Iugise.
Til þe Iuge sal I com, bot I wate noght my day:
Mercy es bath al & som, þar-in I trayst & after pray.
IX.
[Ihesu god son̄, lord of mageste]
Ihesu god son̄, lord of mageste,
Send wil to my hert anly to couayte þe;
Reue me lykyng of þis land, my lufe þat þou may be;
Take my hert in till þi hand, sett me in stabylte.
Send wil to my hert anly to couayte þe;
Reue me lykyng of þis land, my lufe þat þou may be;
Take my hert in till þi hand, sett me in stabylte.
Ihesu þe mayden son̄, þat wyth þi blode me boght,
Thyrl my sawule wyth þi spere, þat mykel luf in men hase wroght.
Me langes, lede me to þi lyght, & festen in þe al my thoght,
In þi swetnes fyll my hert, my wa make wane till noght.
Thyrl my sawule wyth þi spere, þat mykel luf in men hase wroght.
Me langes, lede me to þi lyght, & festen in þe al my thoght,
In þi swetnes fyll my hert, my wa make wane till noght.
Ihesu my god, Ihesu my keyng, forsake noght my desyre,
My thoght make it to be meke, I hate bath pryde and Ire:
þi wil es my ȝhernyng; of lufe þou kyndel þe fyre,
Þat I in swet louyng with aungels take my hyre.
My thoght make it to be meke, I hate bath pryde and Ire:
þi wil es my ȝhernyng; of lufe þou kyndel þe fyre,
Þat I in swet louyng with aungels take my hyre.
Wounde my hert with-in, & welde it at þi wille:
On blysse, þat neuer sal blyn, þou gar me fest mi skylle;
Þat I þi lufe may wyn, of grace my thoght þou fylle,
And make me clene of syn, þat I may come þe tylle.
On blysse, þat neuer sal blyn, þou gar me fest mi skylle;
Þat I þi lufe may wyn, of grace my thoght þou fylle,
And make me clene of syn, þat I may come þe tylle.
Rote it in my hert, þe memor of þi pyne:
In sekenes & in qwert þi lufe be euer myne;
My ioy es al of þe: my sawle take it as þine;
My lufe ay waxand be, sa þat it neuer dwyne.
In sekenes & in qwert þi lufe be euer myne;
My ioy es al of þe: my sawle take it as þine;
My lufe ay waxand be, sa þat it neuer dwyne.
My sang es in syghyng, whil I dwel in þis way;
My lyfe es in langyng, þat byndes me nyght & day,
Til I com̄ til my kyng, þat I won with hym may,
And se his fayre schynyng, & lyfe þat lastes ay.
My lyfe es in langyng, þat byndes me nyght & day,
Til I com̄ til my kyng, þat I won with hym may,
And se his fayre schynyng, & lyfe þat lastes ay.
Langyng es in me lent, for lufe þat I ne kan lete;
My lufe it hase me schent, þat ilk a bale may bete.
Sen þat my hert was brent in Cryste lufe sa swete,
Al wa fra me es went: & we sal neuer mete!
My lufe it hase me schent, þat ilk a bale may bete.
Sen þat my hert was brent in Cryste lufe sa swete,
Al wa fra me es went: & we sal neuer mete!
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I sytt & syng of lufe-langyng, þat in my hert es bred:
Ihesu my keyng & my ioyng, whyne war I to þe led?
Ful wele I wate in al my state, in ioy I sulde be fed:
Ihesu me bryng til þi wonyng, for blode þat þou hase sched.
Ihesu my keyng & my ioyng, whyne war I to þe led?
Ful wele I wate in al my state, in ioy I sulde be fed:
Ihesu me bryng til þi wonyng, for blode þat þou hase sched.
Demed he was to hyng, þe faire aungels fode:
Ful sare þai gan hym swyng, when þat he bunden stode,
His bak was in betyng, & spylt hys blissed blode,
Þe thorn corond þe keyng, þat nayled was on þe rode.
Ful sare þai gan hym swyng, when þat he bunden stode,
His bak was in betyng, & spylt hys blissed blode,
Þe thorn corond þe keyng, þat nayled was on þe rode.
Whyte was his naked breste, & rede his blody syde,
Wan was his faire face, his woundes depe & wyde;
Þe iewþis wald not wande to pyne hym in þat tyde:
Als streme dose of þe strande, his blode gan downe glyde.
Wan was his faire face, his woundes depe & wyde;
Þe iewþis wald not wande to pyne hym in þat tyde:
Als streme dose of þe strande, his blode gan downe glyde.
Blynded was his faire ene, his flesch blody for-bette;
His lufsum lyf was layde ful low, & saryful vmbesette.
Dede & lyf began to stryf wheþer myght maystre mare,
When aungels brede was dampned to dede to safe oure sauls sare.
His lufsum lyf was layde ful low, & saryful vmbesette.
Dede & lyf began to stryf wheþer myght maystre mare,
When aungels brede was dampned to dede to safe oure sauls sare.
Lyf was slayne & rase agayne, in faire-hede may we fare;
And dede es broght til litel or noght, & kasten in endles kare.
On hym þat þe boght, hafe al þi thoght, & lede þe in his lare;
Gyf al þi hert til Crist þi qwert, & lufe hym euer-mare.
And dede es broght til litel or noght, & kasten in endles kare.
On hym þat þe boght, hafe al þi thoght, & lede þe in his lare;
Gyf al þi hert til Crist þi qwert, & lufe hym euer-mare.
XI.
[Heyle Ihesu, my creatowre, of sorowyng medicyne.]
Heyle Ihesu, my creatowre, of sorowyng medicyne.
Heyle Ihesu, mi saueowre, þat for me sufferd pyne.
Heyle Ihesu, helpe & sokowre: my lufe be ay þine.
Heyle Ihesu, þe blyssed flowre of þi moder virgyne.
Heyle Ihesu, mi saueowre, þat for me sufferd pyne.
Heyle Ihesu, helpe & sokowre: my lufe be ay þine.
Heyle Ihesu, þe blyssed flowre of þi moder virgyne.
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Heyle Ihesu, leder to lyght: In saule þou ert ful swete,
Þi luf schynes day & nyght, þat strenghes me in þis strete.
Lene me langyng to þi sight, & gif me grace til grete:
For þou Ihesu, hase þat myght, þat al my bale may bete.
Þi luf schynes day & nyght, þat strenghes me in þis strete.
Lene me langyng to þi sight, & gif me grace til grete:
For þou Ihesu, hase þat myght, þat al my bale may bete.
Ihesu, þi grace my hert enspyre, þat me til blis mai bryng,
On þe I sett al my desyre, þou ert my luf-langyng.
Þi luf es byrnand als þe fyre, þat euer on he wil spryng.
Far fro me put pride & Ire, for þam I luf na-thyng.
On þe I sett al my desyre, þou ert my luf-langyng.
Þi luf es byrnand als þe fyre, þat euer on he wil spryng.
Far fro me put pride & Ire, for þam I luf na-thyng.
Heile Ihesu, price of my prayer, lorde of mageste:
Þou art ioy þat lastes ay, all delyte þou art to se.
Gyf me grace, als þou wel may, þi lufer for to be:
My langyng wendes neuer a-way, til þat I com̄ til þe.
Þou art ioy þat lastes ay, all delyte þou art to se.
Gyf me grace, als þou wel may, þi lufer for to be:
My langyng wendes neuer a-way, til þat I com̄ til þe.
Ihesu to lufe ay be me lefe, þat es my gastly gode.
Allas, my god es als a thefe nayled til þe rode!
Hys tender vayns begyns to brest, al rennes of blode,
Handes & fete with nayles er fest: þat chawnges mi mode.
Allas, my god es als a thefe nayled til þe rode!
Hys tender vayns begyns to brest, al rennes of blode,
Handes & fete with nayles er fest: þat chawnges mi mode.
Ihesu mi keyng es me ful dere, þat with his blode me boght,
Of spittyng spred es al þat clere, to dede with betyng broght.
For me he tholed þies payns sere, þe whilk wreche he wroght:
For-þi þai sitt my hert ful nere, þat I forgete þam noght.
Of spittyng spred es al þat clere, to dede with betyng broght.
For me he tholed þies payns sere, þe whilk wreche he wroght:
For-þi þai sitt my hert ful nere, þat I forgete þam noght.
Ihesu, fortune of ilk a fyght, þou graunt me grace to spede,
Þat I may lufe þe ryght, & haue þe to my mede.
Þi luf es fast in ilk a fandyng, & euer at al owre nede.
Als thurgh þi grace art my ȝhernyng, In til þi lyght me lede.
Þat I may lufe þe ryght, & haue þe to my mede.
Þi luf es fast in ilk a fandyng, & euer at al owre nede.
Als thurgh þi grace art my ȝhernyng, In til þi lyght me lede.
XII.
[All vanitese forsake, if þou his lufe will fele]
All vanitese forsake, if þou his lufe will fele;
Þi hert til hym þou take, he kan it kepe sa wele.
Þe myrth na man may make, of god es ilk a dele.
Þi thoght lat it noght qwake, þi lufe lat it not kele.
Þi hert til hym þou take, he kan it kepe sa wele.
Þe myrth na man may make, of god es ilk a dele.
Þi thoght lat it noght qwake, þi lufe lat it not kele.
Of synne þe bitternes, þou fle ay fast þerfra;
Þis worldes wikkednes, let it noght with þe ga.
þis erthly bisynes, þat wirkes men sa wa,
Þi lufe it wyll make lesse, if þou it with þe ta.
Þis worldes wikkednes, let it noght with þe ga.
þis erthly bisynes, þat wirkes men sa wa,
Þi lufe it wyll make lesse, if þou it with þe ta.
All we lufe sum thyng, þat knawyng hase of skyll,
And haues þer-in likyng, when it mai com̄ vs tyll.
For-þi do Crystes biddyng, & lufe hym as he wyll:
And with lufe þat hase na endyng þi hert he wil fulfyll.
And haues þer-in likyng, when it mai com̄ vs tyll.
For-þi do Crystes biddyng, & lufe hym as he wyll:
And with lufe þat hase na endyng þi hert he wil fulfyll.
Þai þat lufes fleschly, er lickend til þe swyne:
In fylth þai lat þaim ly: þaire fairehed wil þai tyne.
Þair luf partes porely, & putted es to pyne:
Swetter es luf gastly, þat never-mare wil dwyne.
In fylth þai lat þaim ly: þaire fairehed wil þai tyne.
Þair luf partes porely, & putted es to pyne:
Swetter es luf gastly, þat never-mare wil dwyne.
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If þou luf, whils þat þou may, þe keyng of maieste,
Þi wa wendes a-way, þi hele hyes to þe,
Þe nyght turnes in til day, þi ioy sall euer be;—
When þou ert as I þe say, I pray þe thynk on me.
Þi wa wendes a-way, þi hele hyes to þe,
Þe nyght turnes in til day, þi ioy sall euer be;—
When þou ert as I þe say, I pray þe thynk on me.
Owre hedes sal we sett to-gydyr in heuen to dwell,
For þare þe gode ar mett, þat Cryste haldes fra hell.
When we owre synnes haue grett, þen tythans may we tell,
Þat we fra fer haues fett þe lufe þat nane may fell.
For þare þe gode ar mett, þat Cryste haldes fra hell.
When we owre synnes haue grett, þen tythans may we tell,
Þat we fra fer haues fett þe lufe þat nane may fell.
Þe world, cast it be-hynd, & say: “Ihesu my swete,
Fast in þi lufe me bynd, & gyf me grace to grete,
To lufe þe ouer al thyng: for ay to lufe I hete,
Þat I þi lufe may fynd, þat wele my bale may bete.
Fast in þi lufe me bynd, & gyf me grace to grete,
To lufe þe ouer al thyng: for ay to lufe I hete,
Þat I þi lufe may fynd, þat wele my bale may bete.
Wyth lufe wounde me with-in, & til þi lyght me lede;
þou make me clene of synne, þat I þe ded noght drede.
Als þou to saue man-kyn, sufferd þi sydes blede,
Gyf me wytt to wyn þe syght of þe to mede.”
þou make me clene of synne, þat I þe ded noght drede.
Als þou to saue man-kyn, sufferd þi sydes blede,
Gyf me wytt to wyn þe syght of þe to mede.”
His luf es trayst & trew, wha sa hym lufand ware;
Sen fyrst þat I it knew, hit keped me fra kare;
I fand it euer new to lere me goddes lare:
And now thar me not rew þat I haue sufferd sare.
Sen fyrst þat I it knew, hit keped me fra kare;
I fand it euer new to lere me goddes lare:
And now thar me not rew þat I haue sufferd sare.
In lufe þi hert þou hye, & fande to fell þe fende:
Þi dayes sal be vndregh, þat þe na sorow schende;
When þe dede neghes negh & þou sall hethen wende,
Þou sal hym se wyth hegh, and com̄ til Cryste þi frende.
Þi dayes sal be vndregh, þat þe na sorow schende;
When þe dede neghes negh & þou sall hethen wende,
Þou sal hym se wyth hegh, and com̄ til Cryste þi frende.
Aforce þe forto fest in Cryst þi couaytyng,
And chese hym for þe best, he es þi weddyd keyng.
For ioy þi hert burd brest to haue swylk a swetyng;
Of al I hald it werst to luf another thyng.
And chese hym for þe best, he es þi weddyd keyng.
For ioy þi hert burd brest to haue swylk a swetyng;
Of al I hald it werst to luf another thyng.
His lufe es lyf of all þat wele lyuand may be:
Þou sted hym in þi stal, lat hym noght fra þe fle.
Ful sone he wil þe call,—þi setell es made for þe,—
And haue þe in his hall, euer his face to se.
Þou sted hym in þi stal, lat hym noght fra þe fle.
Ful sone he wil þe call,—þi setell es made for þe,—
And haue þe in his hall, euer his face to se.
Þis mede for þe I say, þat þou kyndel þi thoght
And make þe lufe verray, in hym þat þe hase wroght.
For al þat lufe hym may, & þai þar-of will noght,
Tyl pyne turnes þar play—þam-self hase it soght.
And make þe lufe verray, in hym þat þe hase wroght.
For al þat lufe hym may, & þai þar-of will noght,
Tyl pyne turnes þar play—þam-self hase it soght.
Syn þat es sa sowre, gyf it in þe na gyrth:
Of lufe take þe flowre, þat þou may layke þe wyth—
Swetter es þat sauowre þan any felde or freth.
Sett hym in þi sokowre þat lennes þe lym & lyth.
Of lufe take þe flowre, þat þou may layke þe wyth—
Swetter es þat sauowre þan any felde or freth.
Sett hym in þi sokowre þat lennes þe lym & lyth.
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Take Ihesu in þi thynkyng, his lufe he will þe send;
Þi lufe & þi lykyng, in hym þou lat it lend.
And vse þe in praiyng, þar-in þou may be mend:
Swa þat þow hafe þi keyng in ioy with-owten endyng.
Þi lufe & þi lykyng, in hym þou lat it lend.
And vse þe in praiyng, þar-in þou may be mend:
Swa þat þow hafe þi keyng in ioy with-owten endyng.
Expliciunt cantica diuini amoris secundum Ricardum Hampole.
XIV.
[Thy ioy be ilk a dele to serue þi god to pay]
Item secundum eundem Ricardum.
Thy ioy be ilk a dele to serue þi god to pay:
For al þis worldes wele, þou sees wytes a-way.
Þow fande his lufe to fele, þat last with þe will ay:
And þi kare sal kele, þi pyne turne þe to play.
For al þis worldes wele, þou sees wytes a-way.
Þow fande his lufe to fele, þat last with þe will ay:
And þi kare sal kele, þi pyne turne þe to play.
In Cryst þou cast þi thoght, þou hate all wreth and pryde,
And thynk how he þe boght, with woundes depe & wyde.
When þou hym-self hase soght, wele þe sal be-tyde;
Of ryches rek þe noght, fra hell bot he þe hyde.
And thynk how he þe boght, with woundes depe & wyde.
When þou hym-self hase soght, wele þe sal be-tyde;
Of ryches rek þe noght, fra hell bot he þe hyde.
Do als I þe rede, lyftand vp þi hert,
And say til hym was dede: “Cryste, myne hele þou ert!”
Syn synkes as lede, & fer downe fals fra qwert:
Þarfore stabyl þi stede þar smytyng may noght smert.
And say til hym was dede: “Cryste, myne hele þou ert!”
Syn synkes as lede, & fer downe fals fra qwert:
Þarfore stabyl þi stede þar smytyng may noght smert.
In Cryste knyt þi solace, hys lufe chawnge þi chere;
With ioy þou take his trace, & seke to sytt hym nere,
Ever sekand his face; þou make þi sawle clere:
He ordans hegh þi place, yf þou his lufe will lere.
With ioy þou take his trace, & seke to sytt hym nere,
Ever sekand his face; þou make þi sawle clere:
He ordans hegh þi place, yf þou his lufe will lere.
Þou kepe his byddynges ten, hald þe fra dedely synne,
Forsake þe ioy of men, þat þou his lufe may wynne:
Þi hert of hym sal bren with lufe þat neuer sal twynne,
Langyng he wil þe len heuen to won with-Inne.
Forsake þe ioy of men, þat þou his lufe may wynne:
Þi hert of hym sal bren with lufe þat neuer sal twynne,
Langyng he wil þe len heuen to won with-Inne.
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Þou thynk on hys mekenes, how pore he was borne;
Behalde his blody flesch es prikked wit thorne:
Þi lufe lat it noght lesse, he saued þat was forlorne.
To serue hym in swetnes all haue we sworne.
Behalde his blody flesch es prikked wit thorne:
Þi lufe lat it noght lesse, he saued þat was forlorne.
To serue hym in swetnes all haue we sworne.
If þou be in fandyng, of lufe þou hase grete nede,
To stedde [þe] in stallyng, & gyf þe grace to spede.
Þow dwell ay with þi kyng, [&] in hys lufe þe fede.
For lityll haue I connyng to tel of his fairhede.
To stedde [þe] in stallyng, & gyf þe grace to spede.
Þow dwell ay with þi kyng, [&] in hys lufe þe fede.
For lityll haue I connyng to tel of his fairhede.
Bot luf hym at þi myght, whils þou ert lyuand here,
And loke vnto þi syght þat nane be þe so dere.
Say to hym bath day & nyght: “when mai I negh þe nere?
Bryng me to þi lyght, þi melodi to here.”
And loke vnto þi syght þat nane be þe so dere.
Say to hym bath day & nyght: “when mai I negh þe nere?
Bryng me to þi lyght, þi melodi to here.”
In þat lyfe þe stedde þat þou be ay lyuand,
And gyf hym lufe to wedde, þat þou with hym wil stand.
Ioy in þi brest es bredde when þou ert hym lufand:
Þi sawle þan hase he fedde in swete lufe brennand.
And gyf hym lufe to wedde, þat þou with hym wil stand.
Ioy in þi brest es bredde when þou ert hym lufand:
Þi sawle þan hase he fedde in swete lufe brennand.
Al vanites forsake if þou hys lufe wil fele, &c., ut supra.
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