 | [Poems from the Vernon MS] |  |
268
[XXXV. þe Spore of Loue.]
Her beginneþ þe Prikke of loue,Þat profitable is to soule be-houe.
God þat art of miȝtes most,
ffader and Sone and holigost,
Þow graunte hem alle þi blessyng
Þat herken wel to þis talkyng.
ffor, lewed and lered, more and lesse,
Hit wol ow teche holynesse;
To loue God wiþ fyn chere
Hit wol ou teche, my leoue and dere.
269
Þer-of a lesson ow to seye;
Ȝoure dulnesse sum what to scharpe
Ȝe han me preyed for to carpe.
ffor bisynes of wordli þing
To monye hit is a gret lettyng,
And eke ȝor owne frelete,
Þat makeþ ow ȝeore heui to be
Of or-self and ȝoure liuinge,
Þorw þe ffendes entysynge.
Þerfore þis bok to ow I make
Ȝoure discumfort for to slake,
Þat is cald “þe spore of loue,”
Þat stureþ or loue to god aboue.
Riht as þe spore makeþ hors to renne,
So schal þis bok sone god ou kenne,
Þat is souereyn holynesse.
Ȝe schul fynde heer-in swetnesse:
Loke ȝe take herto good hede!
ffor I schal telle ȝou, as I rede.
Þis may be ȝor halyday werk,
Hit wol a-vayle boþe lewed and clerk.
Of Meditacion of þi-self knowyng.
Takeþ good hede, of alle þinge
Þis tweyne to loue, good þei wil þe bringe:
Þe ffurste Is Meditacion,
Þe toþer is Contemplacion;
Þenk of þi-self þat is to say,
And on God, eueriche day.
Þou maiȝt not loue God riȝt wel
But ȝif þou knowe him furst sumdel,
Ne þi-self neuer þe more.
Þat God is best wite wel þerfore;
And wene not þi-self be best,
Al þi while þen hast þou lost.
Þis tweyne to loue, good þei wil þe bringe:
Þe ffurste Is Meditacion,
Þe toþer is Contemplacion;
Þenk of þi-self þat is to say,
And on God, eueriche day.
Þou maiȝt not loue God riȝt wel
But ȝif þou knowe him furst sumdel,
Ne þi-self neuer þe more.
Þat God is best wite wel þerfore;
And wene not þi-self be best,
Al þi while þen hast þou lost.
Þi-self loke þat þou knowe,
ffor þat schal make þe Meke & lowe
And able to knowe þe grete bounte
Of God þat sitteþ in Maieste.
Bi-þenk þe þenne, whil þou hast quart,
In Bodi and Soule what þou art.
Þi bodi was gendred of foul matere,
Þat is wlatsum for to here.
Bi al þin Issuwes hit is wel sene
Þat þou art not wiþ-Inne ful clene.
Nyne Issuwes þou hast, I wene,
Ȝif þou loke hem al bi-deene:
Tweyne Eren þou hast, ben ful of wore,
Þyn Eȝen ben goundi whon þei ben sore,
Þi Neose-þurles ben ful of snit,
And þi Mouþ of glet and spit,
Þyn Issuwes þat aren in priuete
ffor schome þou letest no mon hem se.
Þerfore, seint Bernard as he vs telles:
Þou proude mon, þou art nouȝt elles
But of Muk bretful a sekke;
Mon, schuldest þou not so muche rekke
Of þi-self þen of anoþer,
ffor Rot is þi ffader, worm þi broþer,
ffor gendred he is riht of þe same
As þou. Proud mon, þou art to blame,
Þat þow berest þe so stoutli
And hast þow non enchesun whi!
ffor þat schal make þe Meke & lowe
And able to knowe þe grete bounte
Of God þat sitteþ in Maieste.
270
In Bodi and Soule what þou art.
Þi bodi was gendred of foul matere,
Þat is wlatsum for to here.
Bi al þin Issuwes hit is wel sene
Þat þou art not wiþ-Inne ful clene.
Nyne Issuwes þou hast, I wene,
Ȝif þou loke hem al bi-deene:
Tweyne Eren þou hast, ben ful of wore,
Þyn Eȝen ben goundi whon þei ben sore,
Þi Neose-þurles ben ful of snit,
And þi Mouþ of glet and spit,
Þyn Issuwes þat aren in priuete
ffor schome þou letest no mon hem se.
Þerfore, seint Bernard as he vs telles:
Þou proude mon, þou art nouȝt elles
But of Muk bretful a sekke;
Mon, schuldest þou not so muche rekke
Of þi-self þen of anoþer,
ffor Rot is þi ffader, worm þi broþer,
ffor gendred he is riht of þe same
As þou. Proud mon, þou art to blame,
Þat þow berest þe so stoutli
And hast þow non enchesun whi!
Heddest þow be maad of stones riche,
Sonne or Mone or bodi heuenliche,
How nobliche þow heddest be wrouȝt!
As Lucifer þow miȝtest haue þouȝt.
Of his beute proud he was:
Þerfore him tidde a wel foul cas,
In heuene he durede but a while.
Riht so pruide wol þe be-gyle
And caste þe doun riht to grounde,
Þi soule in peyne hit schal be bounde.
Þi bodi, þat now is hol and sounde,
So foul rot hit schal be founde,
Hit schal not turne to gras nor flour,
But in to wlatsum and foul odour.
Þus maiȝt þou knowe þi bodily staate,
Þi fleschli lust forto abate.
Sonne or Mone or bodi heuenliche,
How nobliche þow heddest be wrouȝt!
As Lucifer þow miȝtest haue þouȝt.
Of his beute proud he was:
Þerfore him tidde a wel foul cas,
In heuene he durede but a while.
Riht so pruide wol þe be-gyle
And caste þe doun riht to grounde,
Þi soule in peyne hit schal be bounde.
Þi bodi, þat now is hol and sounde,
So foul rot hit schal be founde,
Hit schal not turne to gras nor flour,
But in to wlatsum and foul odour.
Þus maiȝt þou knowe þi bodily staate,
Þi fleschli lust forto abate.
271
Meditacion of þe Soule.
Of þi soule ȝit þenke þow
What staat hit is Inne now,
And what þou hast don her-bi-foren—
Or elles þou maiȝt sone be loren.
Þenk hou muche wikkednesse
Þou hast don, and [left] goodnesse,
How luitel good þow hast wrouȝt,
Þi tyme hast spendet aboute nouȝt;
Of werk and word þat is gon
And of þi tyme schal leue riht non
Þat þou ne schalt ȝelde ful streit acounte,
Þou nost hou muche hit wol amounte.
What staat hit is Inne now,
And what þou hast don her-bi-foren—
Or elles þou maiȝt sone be loren.
Þenk hou muche wikkednesse
Þou hast don, and [left] goodnesse,
How luitel good þow hast wrouȝt,
Þi tyme hast spendet aboute nouȝt;
Of werk and word þat is gon
And of þi tyme schal leue riht non
Þat þou ne schalt ȝelde ful streit acounte,
Þou nost hou muche hit wol amounte.
Ȝif þou weore bounde for to telle
In þe séé þe smale grauelle,
Or sterres in þe ffirmament,
Þow heddest gret neode, verrement,
fforto a-vise þe wonder wel!
So most þou rikene eueridel
Werk, and word, and þouȝtes alle,
Þat ben wel mo þen grauel smalle;
And of þi tyme þat is past.
Þerof þou maiȝt ben sore agast
To þenke þus what þi soule haþ ben!
What hit is now, is good to sen.
In þe séé þe smale grauelle,
Or sterres in þe ffirmament,
Þow heddest gret neode, verrement,
fforto a-vise þe wonder wel!
So most þou rikene eueridel
Werk, and word, and þouȝtes alle,
Þat ben wel mo þen grauel smalle;
And of þi tyme þat is past.
Þerof þou maiȝt ben sore agast
To þenke þus what þi soule haþ ben!
What hit is now, is good to sen.
So chaungeable is þi soule, my frende,
Þat nouȝt þe pleset adai to þe ende;
Now art þow sori, now art þow glad,
Now art in hope, now art adrad;
Ȝit wilnest þow þing þat neuer ne was.
Þou art more frele þen is þe glas:
Wiþ-oute touche hit lasteþ ay,
Þi soule is frelore atte assay:
Þorw siht wiþ-oute & þouȝt wiþ-Inne
Hit may be broken, wiþ dedly synne.
Þerto assentest þou lihtly,
And for to be fondet þou art redi,
And forte wiþ-stonde hastou no miȝt,
But þorw þe grace of god almiht,
Þat kepeþ þe vp whon þou schuldest falle.
ffrom mony mischeues he con þe calle:
Whon þou art loren he þe fyndes,
Of Bondus of synne he þe vnbyndes;
To þe deuel whon we were sold,
He Raunsound vs, boþe ȝonge & old;
Dedly synne whon þou hast don,
He vengeþ him not þer-on anon,
But Corteisliche he þe abydes;
Þi schome & synne ȝit he hydes.
He blames þe whon þou dost mys,
And euere he techeþ þe, I-wys,
In hungur & þurst he þe fedes,
Among þin enymys he þe ledes,
In hete and chele he þe refresches,
Slepyng, wakyng he þe redresses.
Heron þou þenke boþe Euen & morn!
And eke, hou mony men han be lorn,
Boþe be water and londe also,
Þat God ne haþ not tendet to
As to þe so bisyli.
And þerfore sei, “sire, graunt Merci,”
Whon þow be-þenkest þe day or niht
Hou god þe kepeþ wiþ-oute dispit
In Bodi or soule, erli or late.—
Þus maiȝt þou knowe þin owne astate.
To loue god bi alle resoun
ffor þis fordede þou hast enchesoun.
Þis þouȝt is Meditacion.
Now forþ to Contemplacion.
Þat nouȝt þe pleset adai to þe ende;
Now art þow sori, now art þow glad,
Now art in hope, now art adrad;
Ȝit wilnest þow þing þat neuer ne was.
Þou art more frele þen is þe glas:
Wiþ-oute touche hit lasteþ ay,
Þi soule is frelore atte assay:
Þorw siht wiþ-oute & þouȝt wiþ-Inne
Hit may be broken, wiþ dedly synne.
Þerto assentest þou lihtly,
And for to be fondet þou art redi,
And forte wiþ-stonde hastou no miȝt,
But þorw þe grace of god almiht,
272
ffrom mony mischeues he con þe calle:
Whon þou art loren he þe fyndes,
Of Bondus of synne he þe vnbyndes;
To þe deuel whon we were sold,
He Raunsound vs, boþe ȝonge & old;
Dedly synne whon þou hast don,
He vengeþ him not þer-on anon,
But Corteisliche he þe abydes;
Þi schome & synne ȝit he hydes.
He blames þe whon þou dost mys,
And euere he techeþ þe, I-wys,
In hungur & þurst he þe fedes,
Among þin enymys he þe ledes,
In hete and chele he þe refresches,
Slepyng, wakyng he þe redresses.
Heron þou þenke boþe Euen & morn!
And eke, hou mony men han be lorn,
Boþe be water and londe also,
Þat God ne haþ not tendet to
As to þe so bisyli.
And þerfore sei, “sire, graunt Merci,”
Whon þow be-þenkest þe day or niht
Hou god þe kepeþ wiþ-oute dispit
In Bodi or soule, erli or late.—
Þus maiȝt þou knowe þin owne astate.
To loue god bi alle resoun
ffor þis fordede þou hast enchesoun.
Þis þouȝt is Meditacion.
Now forþ to Contemplacion.
Of Contemplacion in creature.
Contemplacion is to seye:
Siht of god and his nobleye.
Þat maiȝt þou se be þin Inwit
In creature, and in holy writ,
And siþen in his owne kynde.
Of þeose ȝif we wol haue good mynde,
Þe nobleye of god [we se] in his werkes,
As men mowe seo, Lewed & Clerkes.
Þou þat neuere seȝe Duyk Henri,
Þat þe newe werk of Leycetre reised on hiȝ:
Þer-bi maiȝt þou wel wyte and se
Þat he was lord of gret pouste
Þat hit made of his owne cost—
I hope he naue þeron not lost.
Þe makyng of vche a creature
Such is godes miȝt wiþ-oute Mesure.
And bi þe ordre of vch a kynde
His wit we sen but we be blynde;
And bi þe creatures meyntenyng
Of his godnes we han witeryng.
So long and Brod as is þis world,
Heiȝ and dep, scheweþ him a lord
Of Miht and pouwer gret saunȝfaile,
Al made of nouȝt wiþ-oute trauayle.
Eyr & ffuir on heiȝ ben founde,
Water and Erþe heuy at grounde:
Of his wisdam hit scheweþ a part,
And so to Ioyne hem a ful gret art.
Hedde fuir and water to-geder ben set,
Not wysli don men wolden han let,
Þat On þat oþer wolde distruye;
Hedde Eir be Ioyned to eorþe so druye,
Hit wolde for chyne, for to seye soþ,
No fruit wolde bere as hit now doþ.
Water and Erþe are meynt to-gidere,
ffor grene þing schulde not al to-whidere.
Gret wit and wisdam, as I ow tolde
In God ȝit ȝe may be-holde:
Siht of god and his nobleye.
Þat maiȝt þou se be þin Inwit
In creature, and in holy writ,
And siþen in his owne kynde.
Of þeose ȝif we wol haue good mynde,
Þe nobleye of god [we se] in his werkes,
As men mowe seo, Lewed & Clerkes.
273
Þat þe newe werk of Leycetre reised on hiȝ:
Þer-bi maiȝt þou wel wyte and se
Þat he was lord of gret pouste
Þat hit made of his owne cost—
I hope he naue þeron not lost.
Þe makyng of vche a creature
Such is godes miȝt wiþ-oute Mesure.
And bi þe ordre of vch a kynde
His wit we sen but we be blynde;
And bi þe creatures meyntenyng
Of his godnes we han witeryng.
So long and Brod as is þis world,
Heiȝ and dep, scheweþ him a lord
Of Miht and pouwer gret saunȝfaile,
Al made of nouȝt wiþ-oute trauayle.
Eyr & ffuir on heiȝ ben founde,
Water and Erþe heuy at grounde:
Of his wisdam hit scheweþ a part,
And so to Ioyne hem a ful gret art.
Hedde fuir and water to-geder ben set,
Not wysli don men wolden han let,
Þat On þat oþer wolde distruye;
Hedde Eir be Ioyned to eorþe so druye,
Hit wolde for chyne, for to seye soþ,
No fruit wolde bere as hit now doþ.
Water and Erþe are meynt to-gidere,
ffor grene þing schulde not al to-whidere.
Gret wit and wisdam, as I ow tolde
In God ȝit ȝe may be-holde:
How summe creaturs al-on
Han beoynge of him, as stok and ston;
And summe, as treo and gras and flour,
Han lyf, but Ioye non ne no dolour;
Summe ben & liuen & fleon lykyng,
As Beest and ffoul and ffisch fletyng;
Ouer alle þeose Mon bereþ þe pris,
ffor he haþ reson to make him wys—
Þat makeþ hym peringal lo here
To Angeles of heuene, to ben heor feere.
So muche may ȝit be monnes grace
Þat he mai passen an Angeles place.
Seynt Austyn, þe grete clerk, seiþ riȝt so:
An Angeles place he wolde for-go
ffor to haue þe worþi stede
Þat God haþ ordeynd for Monhede.
Herof I rede þou take good keepe!
Elles þou art worþi gret schendschip,
But þou lyue aftur þi degre,
Seþþe þou hast such a dignite
Alle þing to beo þin vnderloute,
A-boue, bi-neþe, and al aboute.
ffor al þing in eorþe, mon, in sum wyse
Was maad of god for þi seruyse:
Hors & Neet and eke Chamayle,
Þe to ese in þi trauayle;
Lyn, fforre, fflax, Selk and Wolle,
Þat diuersliche God ȝeueþ at folle,
Þe to kepe from chele and hete;
Beest, fisch & foul, & fruit, to þi mete.
Þe þinkeþ par aunter hit is not so,
ffor venymous bestes þei don vs wo.
Þe harmful creatures, verrement,
Weore maad til vre amendement,
Þei ben to vs a Chastisyng,
And eke a wel feir techyng.
Whil þou hast in þin hond a ȝerd,
Þe Child þer-of is sore aferd,
Of his vntiȝt ful sone slakes
And to his lore good keep he takes;
Hit makeþ þe child boþe meke & lowe,
A-Mendeþ him wel him-self to knowe.
Þe venymous beestes wel muche we dreden:
Þe beter þerfore vre lyf we leden.
ffor summe to vs þei beo nuyouse,
Godes werk we knowe ful meruilouse—
Of Godes wisdam a wonder cast!
But of his goodnes be-hold atte last,
How Creatures þat ben Iure,
Þe Sky, Heuen, Sterres and heore nature
God haþ maad forte mowe endure
Euermore wiþ-outen eny gendrure;
But þulke on eorþe eueri day þei rote,
As on is ded, anoþur is gote—
Such vertu in kuynde God con faste,
Þat longe I-nowh so mihte þei laste,
Ȝif his wille were for euere and ay;
So multiplye þei euer vche a day,
Þat summe ben olde & summe be newe,
Þorw þe godnesse of his vertue.—
Þus mowe ȝe knowe boþe more & lesse
Godes Miȝt, his wit, and his goodnesse
In creatures, as I haue told,
How gret, how good, how monifold.
Seþþe he haþ maad for vs al þis,
But we him loue we don amis.
Ȝif þow loue ȝiftes in þin entent,
Loue him wel raþer þat hit þe sent,
Þat is god al þing aboue.
Þerfore me þinkeþ we schulde him loue;
And for him-self ȝit wel more,
Whon we be-þenken vs of þis lore.
Þis þe furste Contemplacioun
In Creatures of gret Renoun.—
Han beoynge of him, as stok and ston;
And summe, as treo and gras and flour,
Han lyf, but Ioye non ne no dolour;
Summe ben & liuen & fleon lykyng,
As Beest and ffoul and ffisch fletyng;
Ouer alle þeose Mon bereþ þe pris,
ffor he haþ reson to make him wys—
Þat makeþ hym peringal lo here
To Angeles of heuene, to ben heor feere.
274
Þat he mai passen an Angeles place.
Seynt Austyn, þe grete clerk, seiþ riȝt so:
An Angeles place he wolde for-go
ffor to haue þe worþi stede
Þat God haþ ordeynd for Monhede.
Herof I rede þou take good keepe!
Elles þou art worþi gret schendschip,
But þou lyue aftur þi degre,
Seþþe þou hast such a dignite
Alle þing to beo þin vnderloute,
A-boue, bi-neþe, and al aboute.
ffor al þing in eorþe, mon, in sum wyse
Was maad of god for þi seruyse:
Hors & Neet and eke Chamayle,
Þe to ese in þi trauayle;
Lyn, fforre, fflax, Selk and Wolle,
Þat diuersliche God ȝeueþ at folle,
Þe to kepe from chele and hete;
Beest, fisch & foul, & fruit, to þi mete.
Þe þinkeþ par aunter hit is not so,
ffor venymous bestes þei don vs wo.
Þe harmful creatures, verrement,
Weore maad til vre amendement,
Þei ben to vs a Chastisyng,
And eke a wel feir techyng.
Whil þou hast in þin hond a ȝerd,
Þe Child þer-of is sore aferd,
Of his vntiȝt ful sone slakes
And to his lore good keep he takes;
Hit makeþ þe child boþe meke & lowe,
A-Mendeþ him wel him-self to knowe.
Þe venymous beestes wel muche we dreden:
Þe beter þerfore vre lyf we leden.
ffor summe to vs þei beo nuyouse,
Godes werk we knowe ful meruilouse—
Of Godes wisdam a wonder cast!
But of his goodnes be-hold atte last,
How Creatures þat ben Iure,
Þe Sky, Heuen, Sterres and heore nature
275
Euermore wiþ-outen eny gendrure;
But þulke on eorþe eueri day þei rote,
As on is ded, anoþur is gote—
Such vertu in kuynde God con faste,
Þat longe I-nowh so mihte þei laste,
Ȝif his wille were for euere and ay;
So multiplye þei euer vche a day,
Þat summe ben olde & summe be newe,
Þorw þe godnesse of his vertue.—
Þus mowe ȝe knowe boþe more & lesse
Godes Miȝt, his wit, and his goodnesse
In creatures, as I haue told,
How gret, how good, how monifold.
Seþþe he haþ maad for vs al þis,
But we him loue we don amis.
Ȝif þow loue ȝiftes in þin entent,
Loue him wel raþer þat hit þe sent,
Þat is god al þing aboue.
Þerfore me þinkeþ we schulde him loue;
And for him-self ȝit wel more,
Whon we be-þenken vs of þis lore.
Þis þe furste Contemplacioun
In Creatures of gret Renoun.—
Þe secunde contemplacion In holy writ.
Þe secunde contemplacion is hit
Þat I seide, in holi writ.
Þei þow be lewed and con not rede,
Noþeles ful wel ȝit may þou spede
To herkene þe ffrere Sarmounyng
And oþer priue Carpyng,
And loke ȝif þou mowe ouȝt þer lere
Þin vnderstondyng to make more clere.
Þer maiȝt þow lerne, as I trowe,
Good from vuel for to knowe,
Sinne to hate, vertu to loue,
And to ȝerne þe Ioye aboue,
Þe pyne of helle for to drede,
Nouȝt loue þis world but for þi nede;
Alle þinges þat we of prechen,
Summe of þeos poyntes forsoþe þei techen.
Þerfore I prey ȝou, takeþ good hede
After holi writ ȝoure lyf to lede,
Godes wille so to knowe þer-Inne
Þat ȝe mowe hate dedly sinne.
And þat ȝe mowe knowe wȝuch hit bene,
I schal hem riken alle bedene,
And þe spices þat of hem launches.
Þat I seide, in holi writ.
Þei þow be lewed and con not rede,
Noþeles ful wel ȝit may þou spede
To herkene þe ffrere Sarmounyng
And oþer priue Carpyng,
And loke ȝif þou mowe ouȝt þer lere
Þin vnderstondyng to make more clere.
Þer maiȝt þow lerne, as I trowe,
Good from vuel for to knowe,
Sinne to hate, vertu to loue,
And to ȝerne þe Ioye aboue,
Þe pyne of helle for to drede,
Nouȝt loue þis world but for þi nede;
276
Summe of þeos poyntes forsoþe þei techen.
Þerfore I prey ȝou, takeþ good hede
After holi writ ȝoure lyf to lede,
Godes wille so to knowe þer-Inne
Þat ȝe mowe hate dedly sinne.
And þat ȝe mowe knowe wȝuch hit bene,
I schal hem riken alle bedene,
And þe spices þat of hem launches.
Pride þe furste, haþ six Braunches:
Þe furste is cald vnbuxomnes:
Of herte hit is a gret hiȝnes,
Makeþ mon to leeten þat him is boden
And to don þat is forboden
Of God or Mon, his ouerlyng.
Þe secounde spice is Bostyng,
Þat makeþ mon forto him auaunte
Of good þat he wolde neuere haunte.
Þe þridde spice is Ypocrisye—
Schewest þe beter to Monnes eiȝe
Þen þou art þi-self wiþ-Inne,
And leetest as þou heddest neuer do synne.
Þe feorþe is clept Arrogaunce,
Þat schewes oþur mennes mischaunce
And openeþ al out heore wikkednes,
So þat þyn may seme þe les;
Of oþer mennes schendschipe
To þe þow takest worschipe.
Þe ffyfþe spice, hit is dispyt,
Oþer menne goodnes setteþ luit,
Þow seist hit is not worþ a Bore,
So þat þin may seme þe more.
Þe Sixte is cald Elacion,
Boldnesse of vuel þat þou hast don;
Þat makeþ mon for to fonde
Correxion hou he may wiþ-stonde.
Þeos ben þe spices most comuyn of pride,
Þat spreden in þis world ful wyde.
Þe furste is cald vnbuxomnes:
Of herte hit is a gret hiȝnes,
Makeþ mon to leeten þat him is boden
And to don þat is forboden
Of God or Mon, his ouerlyng.
Þe secounde spice is Bostyng,
Þat makeþ mon forto him auaunte
Of good þat he wolde neuere haunte.
Þe þridde spice is Ypocrisye—
Schewest þe beter to Monnes eiȝe
Þen þou art þi-self wiþ-Inne,
And leetest as þou heddest neuer do synne.
Þe feorþe is clept Arrogaunce,
Þat schewes oþur mennes mischaunce
And openeþ al out heore wikkednes,
So þat þyn may seme þe les;
Of oþer mennes schendschipe
To þe þow takest worschipe.
Þe ffyfþe spice, hit is dispyt,
Oþer menne goodnes setteþ luit,
Þow seist hit is not worþ a Bore,
So þat þin may seme þe more.
Þe Sixte is cald Elacion,
Boldnesse of vuel þat þou hast don;
Þat makeþ mon for to fonde
Correxion hou he may wiþ-stonde.
Þeos ben þe spices most comuyn of pride,
Þat spreden in þis world ful wyde.
Pruide in heuene furst bi-gon,
And seþþen in eorþe to mony a Mon.
Of þeos þreo þinges as I schal telle,
Of Pruide moni on haþ þe smelle:
Of godes of kuynde, or of grace,
Or elles of worldes purchace.
Strengþe, feirnesse, good wit, or kynne
Bi kynde þis mon haþ him wiþ-Inne;
ffeiþ, Hope, Loue and Charite
Goodes of grace þei ben, parde;
ffeir Cloþes, Lond, Hous and Rent
Worldes purchase ben, verrement.
Of þeos þreo þinges pruide is born,
Þat makeþ mony a mon to be forlorn.
And seþþen in eorþe to mony a Mon.
277
Of Pruide moni on haþ þe smelle:
Of godes of kuynde, or of grace,
Or elles of worldes purchace.
Strengþe, feirnesse, good wit, or kynne
Bi kynde þis mon haþ him wiþ-Inne;
ffeiþ, Hope, Loue and Charite
Goodes of grace þei ben, parde;
ffeir Cloþes, Lond, Hous and Rent
Worldes purchase ben, verrement.
Of þeos þreo þinges pruide is born,
Þat makeþ mony a mon to be forlorn.
Þe secunde synne, hit is Envy:
Of oþur mennes wele hit is sori,
And of heor harm hit is fayn.
Þreo spices hit haþ, as men sayn:
In herte hit is furst, þorw vuel wille;
In word: þi neiȝebor Bakbyte and spille;
In werk, hit makeþ lered and lewed
To his neiȝebor forte beo schrewed.
Of oþur mennes wele hit is sori,
And of heor harm hit is fayn.
Þreo spices hit haþ, as men sayn:
In herte hit is furst, þorw vuel wille;
In word: þi neiȝebor Bakbyte and spille;
In werk, hit makeþ lered and lewed
To his neiȝebor forte beo schrewed.
Wraþþe to þi soule Is mischaunce—
Of þi neiȝebor hit wilneþ veniaunce;
Ȝif þou in herte bere hit longe,
Hattreden hit engendreþ swiþe stronge.
Herof comeþ cheste and Manasyng,
Vileynous wordes, and eke grucching,
Discord, Repref, deynous lokyng—
Þeos ben alle a foul ofspring.
Of þi neiȝebor hit wilneþ veniaunce;
Ȝif þou in herte bere hit longe,
Hattreden hit engendreþ swiþe stronge.
Herof comeþ cheste and Manasyng,
Vileynous wordes, and eke grucching,
Discord, Repref, deynous lokyng—
Þeos ben alle a foul ofspring.
Þe ffeorþe is slouþe in godes seruise.
Þe Braunches þerof I wol deuyse:
Þe furste is feyntise wiþ-oute likyng,
Þat makeþ þe heui wiþ alle þing;
Þat toþer is a tendernesse,
Þat suffreþ no disese nor duresse;
Recheleschipe is þe þridde—
Þou takest no kep what men þe bidde;
Þe feorþe is called Idelnesse,
Whon þou ne wolt worche, more ne lesse.
Þe Braunches þerof I wol deuyse:
Þe furste is feyntise wiþ-oute likyng,
Þat makeþ þe heui wiþ alle þing;
Þat toþer is a tendernesse,
Þat suffreþ no disese nor duresse;
Recheleschipe is þe þridde—
Þou takest no kep what men þe bidde;
Þe feorþe is called Idelnesse,
Whon þou ne wolt worche, more ne lesse.
Þe ffyfþe is cald Auarice,
Þat haþ mony a sori spice:
Þerof comeþ treson, and Robberie,
fforsweryng, Oker, and Symonye,
Þefþe, Beryng of fals witnesse,
Lyȝing, and of herte hardnesse,
Þat makeþ þe no reuþe to haue
Of hem þat þe good craue.
Þat haþ mony a sori spice:
278
fforsweryng, Oker, and Symonye,
Þefþe, Beryng of fals witnesse,
Lyȝing, and of herte hardnesse,
Þat makeþ þe no reuþe to haue
Of hem þat þe good craue.
Glotonye is þe Sixte synne,
Þat fouleþ mon wiþ-oute and wiþ-Inne.
Þe furste spice is of glotenye
To ete more þen þou mayȝt defye,
Whon þou art in hele nomeli;
Anoþer is to ete to lustili.
Glotonye makeþ mon in hast
To breke holychirche fast.
Þe þridde makeþ bisili to þenche
What maner of mete his lust may quenche.
Þe feorþe, þat makeþ mon as ded,
Þat is foul drounkenhed—
Þat is dedly, bi enchesoun
Þat hit bi-reueþ mon his resoun;
But ȝif hit come wiþ-oute fayle
Of feble brayn or gret trauayle,
Or þe drinke be strengor þen men wenen,
ffor venial synne we hit demen.
Þat fouleþ mon wiþ-oute and wiþ-Inne.
Þe furste spice is of glotenye
To ete more þen þou mayȝt defye,
Whon þou art in hele nomeli;
Anoþer is to ete to lustili.
Glotonye makeþ mon in hast
To breke holychirche fast.
Þe þridde makeþ bisili to þenche
What maner of mete his lust may quenche.
Þe feorþe, þat makeþ mon as ded,
Þat is foul drounkenhed—
Þat is dedly, bi enchesoun
Þat hit bi-reueþ mon his resoun;
But ȝif hit come wiþ-oute fayle
Of feble brayn or gret trauayle,
Or þe drinke be strengor þen men wenen,
ffor venial synne we hit demen.
Lecherie is on of þe seuene,
Þat greueþ muche vr lord of heuene.
In to þis synne whon tweyne falle
Þat ben sengle, is lest of alle;
But ȝif þe wommon a Mayde be,
Worse is þat, þe secounde degre;
Þe þridde is clept Holorie,
Þat wedlak brekeþ, is synne ful hye;
Incest þe ferþe, whon þou lyst bi
Þi gostly kyn or bodili;
Þe worste of alle is Sodomye,
Vn-kyndely synne, foul Ribaudye—
Þerfore haþ God taken gret wreche.
Of dedly synne her endeþ my speche.
Þat greueþ muche vr lord of heuene.
In to þis synne whon tweyne falle
Þat ben sengle, is lest of alle;
But ȝif þe wommon a Mayde be,
Worse is þat, þe secounde degre;
Þe þridde is clept Holorie,
Þat wedlak brekeþ, is synne ful hye;
Incest þe ferþe, whon þou lyst bi
Þi gostly kyn or bodili;
Þe worste of alle is Sodomye,
Vn-kyndely synne, foul Ribaudye—
Þerfore haþ God taken gret wreche.
Of dedly synne her endeþ my speche.
279
Of þe Seuene blessynges of þe gospel, Seuene dedli Synnes remedie.
But of heore remedies nou wol I telle
Þat crist seiþ in þe holi gospelle.
Þo ben þe benisouns seuene;
Aȝeyn þeose synnes þei ben ful euene.
“Þe Meke of spirit þei ben blest,
ffor heoren is þe Ioye þat euer schal last:”
Þis Blessyng aȝeyn pride is riht,
Þat be-reueþ mon God almiȝt.
“Þe Mylde beþ blessed þat loueþ no strif,
ffor þei schul haue þe lond of lyf”:
Aȝeynes Envye þat was sayd,
Of oþur mennes hauyng þat neuer was payd,
But of Mischef of his neiȝebore
He is glad, and of his lore.
“Blessed ben þo þat Mournen I-wis
ffor heore frendes þat þei mys;
Þei schul ben cumforted wonder wel”:
Aȝeynes wraþþe hit is sumdel,
Þat discumforteþ mon him-selue
And þo abouten him, ten or twelue.
“Þe Merciful ben blessed, for-þi
God of hem schal haue merci”:
Þat is aȝeyn Couetyse,
Þat to þe nedful wol not diuyse.
“Þat hungren and þursten riȝtwysnesse,
Þei [schul] ben fulled more and lesse”:
Aȝeyn þe Slowe þat nouȝt wol wirke;
Of alle gode dedes him þinkes irke.
“I-blessed ben alle of herte clene,
ffor godes owne face þei schul sene”:
Herof þe gloten may aske riȝt nouȝt,
ffor of his foule wombe is al his þouȝt.
“Þat louen pes þei blessed ben alle,
ffor Godes children men schul hem calle”:
Þe Lechour in herte he haþ no rest;
Of þis þerfore his part is lest.
Þat crist seiþ in þe holi gospelle.
Þo ben þe benisouns seuene;
Aȝeyn þeose synnes þei ben ful euene.
“Þe Meke of spirit þei ben blest,
ffor heoren is þe Ioye þat euer schal last:”
Þis Blessyng aȝeyn pride is riht,
Þat be-reueþ mon God almiȝt.
“Þe Mylde beþ blessed þat loueþ no strif,
ffor þei schul haue þe lond of lyf”:
Aȝeynes Envye þat was sayd,
Of oþur mennes hauyng þat neuer was payd,
But of Mischef of his neiȝebore
He is glad, and of his lore.
“Blessed ben þo þat Mournen I-wis
ffor heore frendes þat þei mys;
Þei schul ben cumforted wonder wel”:
Aȝeynes wraþþe hit is sumdel,
Þat discumforteþ mon him-selue
And þo abouten him, ten or twelue.
“Þe Merciful ben blessed, for-þi
God of hem schal haue merci”:
Þat is aȝeyn Couetyse,
Þat to þe nedful wol not diuyse.
“Þat hungren and þursten riȝtwysnesse,
Þei [schul] ben fulled more and lesse”:
Aȝeyn þe Slowe þat nouȝt wol wirke;
Of alle gode dedes him þinkes irke.
“I-blessed ben alle of herte clene,
ffor godes owne face þei schul sene”:
Herof þe gloten may aske riȝt nouȝt,
ffor of his foule wombe is al his þouȝt.
“Þat louen pes þei blessed ben alle,
ffor Godes children men schul hem calle”:
Þe Lechour in herte he haþ no rest;
Of þis þerfore his part is lest.
280
Aȝeyn þi woundes now hastou salue,
Þe blessynges ȝiuen of godes bi-halue.
Ȝit ben þei spedful to lest [&] most,
Seuen ȝiftes of þe holigost.
Þe blessynges ȝiuen of godes bi-halue.
Ȝit ben þei spedful to lest [&] most,
Seuen ȝiftes of þe holigost.
Of þe Seuen ȝiftes of þe holigost.
Whon þou art hol sound, þe to lede
Tak heer furst þe spirit of drede,
Þat makeþ mon furst from vuel to wynne;
Þe spirit of pite, wel forto bigynne
Gode werkes; þat han a wel gret fo
Of worldes wele and eke of wo:
Tak heer furst þe spirit of drede,
Þat makeþ mon furst from vuel to wynne;
Þe spirit of pite, wel forto bigynne
Gode werkes; þat han a wel gret fo
Of worldes wele and eke of wo:
Þe spirit [of] cunnyng techeþ vs dispise
Þe worldes wele [ȝif we ben wyse];
Þe worldes wele [ȝif we ben wyse];
Þe spirit of strengþe, to suffre þe wo.
Þeose foure to bisy lyf longen into,
Þat we callen Actyf lyf.
Þe oþer þreo rulen Contemplatyf.
In Creatures to knowen God verrement,
Þe spirit vs techeþ of entendement;
Þe spirit of counseil, what is to do
In writ, what is to leue also;
To knowe god In his owne kynde,
Þe spirit of wysdam vs bringeþ to mynde.
Þeose foure to bisy lyf longen into,
Þat we callen Actyf lyf.
Þe oþer þreo rulen Contemplatyf.
In Creatures to knowen God verrement,
Þe spirit vs techeþ of entendement;
Þe spirit of counseil, what is to do
In writ, what is to leue also;
To knowe god In his owne kynde,
Þe spirit of wysdam vs bringeþ to mynde.
Of þe Seuene vertues.
After þis ȝit is good to knoweÞe seuen vertues alle be rowe,
ffor aftur þis lyf þei wol þe bringe
To blisse þat neuer schal haue endynge.
ffeiþ, Hope, and Charite,
Diuine vertues þei ben alle þre;
Strengþe, Mesure, Riht, qweyntise
Of kuyndelich vertues þei beren þe prise.
A bodilich Iurneye hose schulde go,
Þreo þinges him were nedful þerto:
ffurst, þat he wuste whoder he schulde;
And wille, his Iurney to be forþ-fulde;
Þe þridde, Hope for to spede—
Elles þer-of nolde he take hede.
281
Of vr Iurney þat is endynge;
Hope vs ȝiueþ strengþe and miht
To come to him as heo han tiht;
But wille þen ȝiueþ vs Charite—
How miȝte we þenne for-go þeose þre?
Ne þe foure oþure neuer þe more.
Her þou now þe skile þerfore!
Þer may no mon God wel qweme
But he cunne good from vuel deme,
Þe gode to hente, þe vuel forsake,
Of twei godes þe better to take.
Þat hit is good, vche mon troweþ,
ffor to ȝelde alle þing þat him oweþ,
And for to wiþ-holde more or lesse
Is vuel: þat techeþ vs Rihtwysnesse.
Of twey goodes þe beter to hente,
Qweyntise vs techeþ, verremente.
Good þing men mihte mis-vse, I-wis:
Þerfore Mesure neodful is.
Vuel mihte mon to muche doun bringe:
Strengþe þerfore is nedful þinge,
To make mon hard to suffre wo.
To ten Comaundemens now wol I go.
Of þe ten Comaundemens.
Þeose biddinges wol I not ouer-hippe.On God þou schalt worschippe.
His nome þou ne schalt in Idel munginge (!).
Halewe þin halyday, þe þridde biddinge.
Þeose rulen þi lyf, alle þre,
To þe holi Trinite.
A-ȝeyn þe furste biddyng þou mischeuest,
On eny wicchecraft ȝif þou bileeuest.
Aȝeyn þe secunde þi-self þou derest,
Horible oþes whon þou swerest—
Ȝit maiȝt þou swere wiþ-outen synne
ffalsede to dampne, þe riȝte to wynne.
Aȝeyn þe þridde þou dost wronge
Whon þou lyst in þi bed so longe
282
To ffreres prechinge wolt þou not gon—
Þer-Inne of swetnesse þou felest no tast;
Bote to þe tauerne þe þinkeþ more hast
Þen to visyte þe seke or þe pore,
Þat liggen a-tome or at þi dore;
Ȝif þou dost þus, soþ to say,
Þou halewest not wel þyn halyday.
Godes curtesye her maiȝt þow se:
To him-self he ȝaf biddynges but þre;
Þe seuen þat comen herafter nou
To þe and to þi neiȝebores prou.
ffader and Moder þow most honoure:
Wiþ foul cher not on hem to loure;
Ȝif heo of þyne habbeþ gret nede,
But þou hem helpe, vuel schalt þou spede.
Loke þat þou sle no mon,
Wiþ hond ne wiþ wepene non,
Ne þorw þyn owne gilerye
Nouȝwhere to puite him for to dye;
Sle no mon wiþ tonge, biddynge,
Beo tisement ne bi procurynge;
In herte Coueyte no mon to spille—
To borwe him raþure is godes wille,
Ȝif þou hit may do lawefully,
Elles of þis biddynge þow art gulti.
Stele non oþure monnes good.
ffrom fals witnes þow torn þi mood.
Þi neiȝebores good þow schalt not desyre,
Wyf nor Mayde-child for heor white swire.
Loke þou do no Lecherie,
Þi-self for þat wol most anuye.
But i prei þe, þou seist, telle me þe skile
Whi god forbed raþur vuel wille
Of worldes good, and of Monnes wyf,
Þen to bi-reue a Monnes lyf.
ffor, hose is in wille for to stele,
Wiþ oþer monnes wyf or wiþ to dele,
Hit is hardore him-self þer-from to holde
Þen from monslauȝt, be þou bolde!
283
Haþ gret Abhomynacione;
But wraþþe haþ him his resun raft,
Wiþ him þerof horrour is laft,
After þe dede or elles be-foren—
Elles mony mon schulde be for-loren.
Of twelue articles of vre be-leue.
But no mon may, þe Bok hit seiþ,Plese God wiþ-outen feiþ.
Þerfore mo þinges is good to meue:
Þe twelue articles of vre bi-leue.
Of alle þe twelue þis is þe most:
Þat ffader & Sone and Holi gost
On God Almihti in Trinite
Euer was, and is, and euer schal be;
Heuene and eorþe he haþ wrouȝt,
And al þis world he maade of nouȝt.
Þe ffader sende his sone Ihesu
Þorw þe holygost vertu,
God and Mon of Mayde Marie
To be boren, and for vs to dye,
And buried was, þorw his good wille,
To sauen vs alle þat we ne schulde spille.
To helle he wente whon he was ded,
Þe soule Ioyned to his godhed;
ffrom helle he hem fette swiþe blyue
Þat him hedde serued in heore lyue.
Vp he ros þe þridde day,
As he was God and Mon verray;
Riht so schul we, as seiþ seint poule,
Rysen vp in bodi and in soule
At þe grete day of doom—
Þerof I rede we take good goom!
Þen schal he demen al apert
Vche mon after his decert.
God and Mon to heuene he went;
Þe holigost to þe Apostles sent.
Þorw him so mowe we heuene wynne,
Ȝif we dyen out of dedly synne.
284
Of þe seuene Sacramens.
Off þe seuene sacramens ȝit mote we trowe,Þat I schal rikene al be Rowe.
Þe ffurste, hit is cristendom,
Þat cryst receyued in þe fflom;
Hit makeþ vs clene of þat synne
Þat we be boren vchone Inne,
And openeþ to vs heuene-ȝate,
Elles may no mon come in þer-ate.
But þorw gret temptacion
Þat grace miȝte be struied soon:
Þerfore is Confirmacion—
Þat non may but Bisschop don;
Þe holigost hit stableþ riȝt
In þe, aȝeyn þe fend to fiht.
But after þeose we sungen al day:
Þerfore penaunce hit doþ a-way
Dedly synne and venial,
Þat is to seye gret synne and smal;
Þreo parties hit haþ verrey penaunce,
Þerof þe synful mai ha fyaunce:
ffor-þinke þe synne wilfulliche,
And schriue þe þenne verreiliche,
And make a-mendes to þi miht—
Of al þi synnes þen art þow quiht.
But leste in penaunce mon schulde fayle,
Him neodeþ cumfort in þat trauayle:
Hosul þerfore, in Bredes heuȝ
Godes bodi, we tan, of gret vertu;
Vre gostli strengþe hit holdeþ Inne,
Þat we ne falle liȝtli aȝeyn to synne.
But in a wel-ruled halle,
Þat ben þer-Inne þei serue not alle,
Out of array for þenne hit were—
In holichirche þe same manere:
Ordre of presthod is maad þerfore,
Vs to serue lasse and more
Of Sacramens and vre rihtynges—
Presthod haþ power of alle þeos þynges;
285
Prest sacres þat bodi, þat aungel ne may do.
But god schop mon forte restore
Þe noumbre of angeles þat is forlore,
Þorw kyndelich generacioun,
And þerto he ȝaf his benisoun
Þat Monkynde mihte multiplie,
Wiþ-oute synne of Lecherye
Mon and wommon to-gedere Ioyne;
Þerfore he ordeynde Matrimoyne,
Þat dedli synne hit doþ a-wei—
But þe venial wol I not sey.
But of þis world whon we schul wende,
Gret peyne we han þenne at vr ende:
Þerfore is holi Oynement,
Þat vs aleggeþ, verreyment,
Of peyne we han þenne bodily,
And of þat we dreden gostly;
Such vertu God herto con lene
To folfille þe penaunce þat naþ mad clene.
Of þe seuene dedes of Merci.
Bute at þe dredful domes-dayMon schal haue an hard a-say,
ffor he schal þenne a-posed be
Of þe dedes of Charite.
Þerfore is good now to witen
Wȝuche hit ben, as hit is writen.
Þe ffurste is, fede þe hungri.
Ȝeue drinke to þe þursti.
Þe þridde, þe naked for to cloþe.
To herborwe þe pore be þou not loþe.
Visyte hem þat ben in prisoun bounde.
Cunforte þat seknesse haþ cast to grounde.
Of þeose sixe þe gospel spekeþ.
Þe seueþe Tobye vs he þat techeþ:
To burie þe dede Is Charite—
In Bodi and soule quit schal hit be.
286
Of þe seuene druweries of Monnus bodi.
Þi Bodi schal haue druweries seuene,As Monye þi soule, boþe to in heuene,
Of þe [whuch] schal rise þi grete blis—
Þer-bi maiȝt wyte what heuene is.
Þi bodi schal schyne so wondur feire,
No foulnesse schal hit a-peyre;
Seuenfold briȝtore þen is þe sonne
Vche bodi schal be þat haþ hit wonne.
Ȝit was þer neuere foul of fliȝt
As þi bodi so swift and liȝt,
ffor in a twynclyng of an eiȝe
ffrom erþe to heuene þou maiȝt styȝe.
In bodi þou schalt ȝit be so strong
Þat al þe erþe, wyd, dep, and long,
Þou schalt mowe posse hit as a bal;
As þou wolt welde hit, þou schal.
Þou schalt ben fre, þat nou art bonde,
Þat no þing schal a-ȝein þe stonde
To lette þe to passe whoder þou schal,
Erþe ne water ne stonene wal;
As oyle synkeþ þorw hol vessel,
So schal þi bodi perse al þing wel.
Vre bodies þat here ben seke and sore,
Þei schul haue hele for euer-more;
We schul beo so wel atese
Þat hunger ne ferst nor no dissese
Nouþer wiþ-Inne ne wiþ-oute,
Hurt nor langour we schul not doute.
Þerto gret lykynge in þat lyue
We schul han in vr wittes fyue,
Vche a wit wiþ-outen anguisch
Schal haue his lykyng wiþ a wusch:
ffeir siht lyking to þin eiȝe;
Þyn Eres ful of melodye;
Tast, and Smel, and þy felyng,
Þei schul be ful of gret lykyng;
And al þis Ioye schalt haue to-gider—
Vr lord of heuene bring vs þider!
287
Whon we be-þenk vs, we mai ha care
Þat mischef of deþ schal vs be-tyde;
Þerfore vr blisse may not a-byde:
But in heuene wiþ-oute stryf
Bodi and soule schal euere ha lyf;
Þerof þou maiȝt þe wel affye,
ffor bodi and soule þei schal neuur dye.
Of þe doweres of þe soule.
Þi soule schal haue þis warisun:Of wit and wisdam so gret foysun
Þat creatures alle, hiȝe & lowe,
In heuene & eorþe, þou schalt knowe;
Gret Ioye schal þat be, sikerliche!
ffor mon disyreþ kuyndeliche
To knowe þing þat is vnkud;
ffrom þi knowyng nouȝt schal ben hud.
ffrendschipe wiþ-outen enemyte,
Þat schal ben a-noþer fe;
Such frendschipe in heuene among hem is
Þat vs is fayn of oþeres blis.
A-cord and pes wiþ-outen stryf,
fforsoþe, hit schal be þere so ryf:
Þe bodi and soule, þat striuen here,
Vche to oþer schal be so dere
Þat þe bodi schal noþing wille
But þat [þe] soule wol al be skille;
Þyn eȝen ben of so good assent,
Þat on lokes nowher verreyment
But ȝif þat oþer loke þer-wiþ;
Þer schul ben alle in so good kiþ
Þat Bodi and soule vche wiþ oþer
Schul to-geder no þing soþer.
Worschipe wiþ-outen vileny
Þer schul we haue, sikerly;
As kynges in trone sitte we schal,
Crouned wiþ Angeles peryngal.
Þe soule, þat her haþ luitel maystrie
Or þauȝ þe bodi be in gret anuye,
288
Þat nouȝt aȝeynes hit schal quich nor quaue.
But trust nis non in worldes wele,
Nou art þou sek, nou art in hele,
Nou artou pore, now artou riche—
Þe blisse of heuene nis þat not liche:
ffor þe meste part of þy Blis
Schal be sikernesse of al þis.
Þe seueþe blisse: þi soule in heuene
Schal þonke God wiþ hiȝe steuene,
As Angeles don wiþ gret likynge,
“Holi, Holi, Holi” is heore syngynge.
Of þe peynes of helle, & amonesting.
Hit is no neod now for to telleMore of þe peynes þat ben in helle.
In bodi & soule þei han gret nuye,
Of al þis Ioye þe contrarye.—
Ȝif þou be-þenke þe, my dere frend, wel
Of al þis Ioye eueriche a del
Þat god haþ ordeyned for þi solace
Whon þou schalt sen him in his face,
Þou hast gret Matere, sikerliche,
Him to loue souereynliche
Þat such knowynge and such wit
Ȝiueþ vs of him in holy writ.
Nou hast þou matere of holy speche
Vnwysore þen þou for to teche;
And whon þou spekest wiþ eny mon
Þat more good con lere þen þou con,
Sum of þeos Materes þou maiȝt enqwere,
Wel more good for to lere.—
Of þe þridde Manere of contemplacion in god him-self.
Tac hede nou & þou schalt seOf Contemplacion þe þridde degre,
Of God hym-self wiþ-outen doute,
Of Godhed wiþ-Inne, monhed wiþ-oute.
Þre þinges þou þenke, as I þe rede,
Of crist vr lord in his monhede:
289
And of his liuyng þe holynes,
And of his passion þe charite.
At ones þou maiȝt not þenke þise þre;
I schal departe hem, as I may,
Be þe houres of niht and day;
Wiþ double Contemplacione
In vche an houre of god þou mone:
Ones of his passioun,
And eft of oþer sesoun.
Contemplacion at Matines tyme.
At Mateynes þenk, aftur or bi-foren,
Wȝat time & vre, place crist was boren.
Þe tyme was wynter, ȝif þou be-holde,
Þe vre was midniȝt, wonder colde,
Þe place, as doctours seyen and trowes,
Was a toren hous wiþ-outen wowes.
In Riche cloþus was he not wrapped,
In Cracche wiþ ragges he was happed,
Bi-twene an Oxe and an As—
Gret Meknes þer I-schewed was!
Wȝat time & vre, place crist was boren.
Þe tyme was wynter, ȝif þou be-holde,
Þe vre was midniȝt, wonder colde,
Þe place, as doctours seyen and trowes,
Was a toren hous wiþ-outen wowes.
In Riche cloþus was he not wrapped,
In Cracche wiþ ragges he was happed,
Bi-twene an Oxe and an As—
Gret Meknes þer I-schewed was!
Be-þenk þe of þat cumpaignye
Of Iosep and of swete Marie,
Hou bisy þei weren to kepe þat fode
Þat for us schulde dyen on Roode;
Of Iosep and of swete Marie,
Hou bisy þei weren to kepe þat fode
Þat for us schulde dyen on Roode;
Of þe herdes deuocion,
And of þe Angeles þat songen abouen
“Ioye be to god þat is on hiȝ”—
In herte so syng þou priuely.
And of þe Angeles þat songen abouen
“Ioye be to god þat is on hiȝ”—
In herte so syng þou priuely.
Þenk how Iudas also outrayde
At midniȝt, whon he crist be-trayde;
Hou þe Iewes þei him be-caste,
And as a þeef þei bounden him faste,
And as a feloun þei forþ him lad.
Whon þe traitour a Cos him bad,
In speche he was so Meke & hende:
His traytur he calde his dere frende.
In dede also he schewed non awe,
fforbed al hise wepne to drawe,
And Malcus ere, þat Peter of smot,
Heled hit aȝeyn, not chid nor flot.
Biforen Anna i-lad and Cayphas
Vileynesliche þer I-boffeted was,
And petur þryes wiþ-Inne a þrowe
ffor-sok him, ar cok hedde þries crowe.
And alle þe Apostles euerichon
A-wey þei fledde, wiþ him lafte non.
At midniȝt, whon he crist be-trayde;
Hou þe Iewes þei him be-caste,
And as a þeef þei bounden him faste,
And as a feloun þei forþ him lad.
Whon þe traitour a Cos him bad,
In speche he was so Meke & hende:
His traytur he calde his dere frende.
In dede also he schewed non awe,
fforbed al hise wepne to drawe,
290
Heled hit aȝeyn, not chid nor flot.
Biforen Anna i-lad and Cayphas
Vileynesliche þer I-boffeted was,
And petur þryes wiþ-Inne a þrowe
ffor-sok him, ar cok hedde þries crowe.
And alle þe Apostles euerichon
A-wey þei fledde, wiþ him lafte non.
Of contemplacion at prime: of þe passion, and of þe Resureccion.
Off þe passion þenk at prime,
Of cristes vprist þe same tyme.
Crist in to a ȝard at prime him ladde
And fals witnesse aȝeyn him hadde,
Þat seiden hou he hedde god dispised,
Þe cuntre al tornd and dyuised
ffrom Ierusalem to Galyléé.
Of cristes vprist þe same tyme.
Crist in to a ȝard at prime him ladde
And fals witnesse aȝeyn him hadde,
Þat seiden hou he hedde god dispised,
Þe cuntre al tornd and dyuised
ffrom Ierusalem to Galyléé.
And in his face þen spitten heo,
Þei hudden his face & bobed his hede
And scorned him and bad hym rede
Ho him smot þo wiþ his fuste.
Nout he ne seide, þouȝ he wel wuste.
Þei hudden his face & bobed his hede
And scorned him and bad hym rede
Ho him smot þo wiþ his fuste.
Nout he ne seide, þouȝ he wel wuste.
Of þe Resurexion.
Þenk also at prime, whon crist vp ros—Þerof wydewhere sprong þe loos—
Vyue siþes apeered he þat day
To his derlynges, soþ to say:
ffurst to Maudeleyn, þat was him dere,
Whon heo þhoute him a gardynere.
To hire and oþure, verrement,
As þei comen from his Monument;
And seide “al heil! God saue ȝow.”
And siþen to Peter—but we nute how.
Þe ffeorþe tyme as a straunge pilgrim
To twey disciples, þat knew not him,
Toward Emaus, þe goode Castel;
In bred brekyng þen kneuȝ þei him wel.
291
But Thomas was not wiþ hem þen;
But þat hit was he þei nouȝt bileeued,
ffor a gost to hem he furst bi-semed,
Til he schewede boþe foot and honde
Amiddes hem þer he con stonde,
“Pees to ȝow” he seide þon—
Þei kneuȝ him wel whon he was gon.
Biforen vndurne: Of þe passion, and of Witsuntyd.
Þenk how crist at vndurne-tydeWas dispoyled, boþe bak and syde,
And to a piler þenne was he bounde
And skourged so sore wiþ mony a wonde
Þat from þe foot to þe heued
Hol skin was on [him] luitel be-leued.
Wiþ Mantel of Red þei him cladde,
Bi-foren þe folk þei forþ him ladde,
ffor Septre a reod token him in honde,
Crouned him wiþ þorn, I vndurstonde,
And þenne þei kneled him be-forn
And called him kyng al in scorn.
Vp-on Pilate þen gunne þei crye
Ihesu on Rode to Crucifye.
He bar his Cros wiþ gret anuye
To þe place þer he schulde dye.
Bifore vndurne of þe holigost.
Þenk also at þis same vreÞe holigost wiþ gret honoure
Crist his apostles sende amonge,
So wonderliche to speke wiþ tonge
Þat folk þat weoren of oþur langage
Heo[m] vnderstoden, & seiden outrage
Þat of wyn dronken þey were.
Þe holygost also schewed him ful clere
In fuir, to make hem hard and bolde,
ffor þei schulde not in mischef folde.
292
At Midday: of þe anunciacion, And of þe passion.
At Middai be-þenk þe witerliHou Gabriel grette vr swete ladi,
Þenne conceiued heo crist Ihesu
Þorw þe holigost vertu.
But whi wolde he take flesch & blode
And siþen dye for vs on Rode,
Siþen he miȝte ha saued Monkynde
Bi an Angel, as I fynde?
But þen schulde we ha loued be riȝt
Þe Angel more þen god Almiȝt;
He wolde we loued him be-foren al oþur:
Þerfore him-self bi-com vr broþur.
Also of þe passion.
Þenk hou crist was don on Rode—His bodi þen ron al on blode;
Bi-twene twey þeues he hynged;
Galle & Eysel to him þei menged
To drinke, for þurst whon he him pleined.
ffor vre gult so was he peyned.
In al þis world þow peynes alle
Vpon o Mon miȝte falle
And he miȝte suffre as muche more
As alle men þat nou ben bore,
Þe same deþ twye or þrie
Þat crist suffrede þouȝ he miȝt dye,
Þat peyne ȝit were not so liche
Nouþur neiȝ so as his so miche.
Hit semeþ wel þenne bi þat i telle
His peyne passeþ þe pyne of helle
Þat pure creature miȝte þole, i-wis,
ffor euere so may neuer on his.
At Noon: of þe passion, and of þe Assencion.
Be-þenk þe at þe vre of noon:Whon crist hed seid þat al was don,
Mildeliche wiþ-outen bost
To his ffader he ȝeld his gost,
293
Hely lamaȝabatani,
Þat is to seye aftur þe Book
“ffader, whiere þou me forsok?”
As hos seiþ, þus here for to spille;
A, lord, for hit was þi wille.
A blynd kniht þen atte laste
A Spere þorw [his] herte þraste,
Þat Blod and water þen out ȝede.
Þerof we schulde take good hede:
Þe blynde kniȝt þerof cauȝte his siht,
And vre Bapteme þere hedde miȝt.
Lord, ȝif me grace day and niht
To þenke how deolfulliche þou were diht!
Þe sonne for deol þen lees his liht,
ffor to be wreken of his dispiht;
Hulles and dales þei al to-schoken,
And þe stones al to-broken.
At Non of þe Assencion.
Þenk also at þe vre of nonOf Ihesu Assencion
On þe Mount of Olyuete,
Whon al þe Apostles þer gunne mete,
And his deore Moder Marie,
In al heore siht vp gon he styȝe,
And sitteþ on his ffader riht hond,
Þat weldeþ boþe Séé and Lond.
Þe Apostles bi þe wey þat was geyn
To Ierusalem þei torned a-ȝeyn,
In preyer & fastynge þer for to abyde,
As he hem bad, til witsontyde.
At euensong-tyme: of þe passion, and of þe Maunde.
At Euensong-tyme þenk verreyli:ffor ded was founden his swete bodi,
Ioseph þenne of Aramathi
Tok him doun deuoutli,
Of Pilat, þat þenne was heiȝ Iustise,
He asked no more for his seruyse.
294
Hit was hud in þy godhed;
As gras is stomped for medicyne,
So were þou fruscht wiþ muche pyne;
Allas for deol, boþe euen and Morn,
Þe Croune of blisse lai vnder a þorn!
Now of þe Maunde of Ihesu crist.
At euensong-tyme of his MaundeÞenk; wiþ hou gret Charite
He wuȝsch his owne apostles feete,
And of his Bodi alle þei ete
As he heom ȝaf in bredes heuȝ,
And to Iudas, þat waried Ieuȝ,
Þauȝ he him wuste in synne derne,
His flesch & blood ȝit nolde he him werne.
Ensaumple herof þe prest may haue
Non hosul to werne hose wol hit craue,
In priue synne þouȝ he him knowe—
To warne hym stilly is best, I trowe.
At cumplin-tyme: of his passion, and of his buriinge.
At Cumplin þenk wiþ good ententHou crist in to a gardyn went
After þe Maunde, forto prey
His ffader þat passion to don a-wey;
Þe Monhede of hym so sore dredde þat
Þat blod & water þer so he swat
Þat hit dropped doun in þat place
In to þe eorþe from his face.
Of þe buryinge of Ihesu crist.
Þenk at Cumplyn: þe bodi of cristWas leid in graue til his vpryst,
Þat Ioseph diȝte for him-self hadde;
And in Sendel he him cladde,
Wiþ Mirre and Aloyne, good oynement,
He Baumede him, wiþ good entent.—
Lord, ȝif me grace swetnes to fynde
Þeos Vres þus to haue in mynde,
295
At myn ende hit be my solas.—
Of Contemplacion of god in his owne kynde.
Þus schaltou þenke on his Monhed.
Now schal I teche of his godhed,
Þat from vr knowyng sumdel is hud,
And in foure wise to vs is kud:
In Creature, and in holy writ—
Þerof Ichaue my tale quit;
Þe þridde be Reuelacion,
Þe ffeorþe be monnes reson.
Bi Reuelacion God scheweþ him-selue
As he dude to þe prophetes twelue
And to oþere Mony on,
Or be Miracle open I-don.
Bi reson þus God maiȝt þou kenne,
Ȝif þou wolt þe be-þenke whenne
Þou were nouȝt or þou boren were;
Of oþer Creatures þe same manere,
Þat comen & gon eueriche day;
Þe soþe þer-bi wel wite þou may
And bi reson vndertake
Þat þei miȝt not hem-seluen make;
Heore biginnynge seþþen þou maiȝt se,
And of hem-self þei mowe not be,
Þenne mostou nede grante sum þing
Þat neuer hedde no bi-gynnyng,
Oþur þynges of whom comen alle,
God Almihti þat men calle.
But twei goddes ȝif þat þer were,
Þer moste nede be sum manere
Of diuersete hem bi-twene—
Al on elles moste þei bene;
Þen moste þat on, as wel I wot,
Sumwhat haue þat þe toþer hedde not;
Þen hedde þat on, sikerliche,
Ouþer to luyte or to muche;
Ȝif þat he hedde to luitel,
He were not god almihtful;
And to muche ȝif þat he hadde,
A sori god were and a badde
Þat to muche miȝte not do him fro—
To alle þing for þat is so.
Siþen two goddes þenne mowe not be,
On-lepi god þen graunte we.
But Ioye is non here in no two afye (!)
Wiþ-outen riht good cumpaynye.
Siþen God is ful of Ioye and blis,
In Godhed Cumpaynye þer is.
Be-twene lasse þen two mai hit not be:
Two persones in God þen mai we se.
But cumpaignie were nouȝt, I wene,
But þer were loue hem bi-twene:
Þe þridde persone, I wol warante,
In Trinite þen moste we graunte,
To make loue and Charite
In þe holy Trinite.
And þus mowe we knowe anon
Þreo persones and God but on.
In þi-self þou maiȝt a-tame
Open ensaumple of þis same:
In þi soule þou seost ful wel
Miht and Connynge þou hast sumdel;
Þi miȝt Connynge þe wiþ-Inne
To loue hem boþe þou const not blynne;
Þi miht is furst, and þenne cunnynge,
And of hem boþe comeþ louynge.
Þe same manere in god aboue:
Miht and Connynge and eke loue.
Now schal I teche of his godhed,
Þat from vr knowyng sumdel is hud,
And in foure wise to vs is kud:
In Creature, and in holy writ—
Þerof Ichaue my tale quit;
Þe þridde be Reuelacion,
Þe ffeorþe be monnes reson.
Bi Reuelacion God scheweþ him-selue
As he dude to þe prophetes twelue
And to oþere Mony on,
Or be Miracle open I-don.
Bi reson þus God maiȝt þou kenne,
Ȝif þou wolt þe be-þenke whenne
Þou were nouȝt or þou boren were;
Of oþer Creatures þe same manere,
Þat comen & gon eueriche day;
Þe soþe þer-bi wel wite þou may
And bi reson vndertake
Þat þei miȝt not hem-seluen make;
Heore biginnynge seþþen þou maiȝt se,
And of hem-self þei mowe not be,
Þenne mostou nede grante sum þing
Þat neuer hedde no bi-gynnyng,
Oþur þynges of whom comen alle,
God Almihti þat men calle.
But twei goddes ȝif þat þer were,
Þer moste nede be sum manere
Of diuersete hem bi-twene—
Al on elles moste þei bene;
Þen moste þat on, as wel I wot,
Sumwhat haue þat þe toþer hedde not;
Þen hedde þat on, sikerliche,
Ouþer to luyte or to muche;
Ȝif þat he hedde to luitel,
He were not god almihtful;
296
A sori god were and a badde
Þat to muche miȝte not do him fro—
To alle þing for þat is so.
Siþen two goddes þenne mowe not be,
On-lepi god þen graunte we.
But Ioye is non here in no two afye (!)
Wiþ-outen riht good cumpaynye.
Siþen God is ful of Ioye and blis,
In Godhed Cumpaynye þer is.
Be-twene lasse þen two mai hit not be:
Two persones in God þen mai we se.
But cumpaignie were nouȝt, I wene,
But þer were loue hem bi-twene:
Þe þridde persone, I wol warante,
In Trinite þen moste we graunte,
To make loue and Charite
In þe holy Trinite.
And þus mowe we knowe anon
Þreo persones and God but on.
In þi-self þou maiȝt a-tame
Open ensaumple of þis same:
In þi soule þou seost ful wel
Miht and Connynge þou hast sumdel;
Þi miȝt Connynge þe wiþ-Inne
To loue hem boþe þou const not blynne;
Þi miht is furst, and þenne cunnynge,
And of hem boþe comeþ louynge.
Þe same manere in god aboue:
Miht and Connynge and eke loue.
Þe ffader we callen þe furst Miht,
Connynge þe Sone, of him comeþ riht;
Þe holigost loue we calle,
Þat comeþ of boþe, knowleche we alle.
Connynge þe Sone, of him comeþ riht;
Þe holigost loue we calle,
Þat comeþ of boþe, knowleche we alle.
Al Monkynde [knoweþ] in toun and felde
Þe ffader waxeþ feble in his elde,
Þe Sone in his ȝouþe is not wys,
Of Monnes gost comeþ Malys.
In god lest men wolde wene þe same,
Þe ffader haþ miȝt, þe Sone wisdame;
His miht is euer gret inlike,
Þe sones wisdam may nouȝt be swike.
Þe Holigost he haþ goodnesse,
Wiþ-outen Malys More and lesse.
To knowe god þus furst men come
Bi resun—so maiȝt þou, ȝif þou take gome
Þin herte to god vp so to lifte,
In þeose þreo wyse as I skifte:
By his werk, and holy writ,
And bi resun of monnes wit
And of him-self in double kynde.
Wel ouȝte we þenne haue him in mynde,
Þat al þis world wiþ þat þer-Inne
Ȝaf, and him-self, vr loue to wynne.
Nou þou him knowest & his bounte,
Loue him wel for Charite
Euer-more to þi lyues ende!
To Ioye & blisse þen schaltou wende,
Þat he haþ ordeyned for vre solace.
Lord, bring vs þider for þi grace. Amen.
Þus endeþ þe spore of loue—
God grant vs þe blisse of heuene aboue.
Þe ffader waxeþ feble in his elde,
Þe Sone in his ȝouþe is not wys,
Of Monnes gost comeþ Malys.
In god lest men wolde wene þe same,
Þe ffader haþ miȝt, þe Sone wisdame;
297
Þe sones wisdam may nouȝt be swike.
Þe Holigost he haþ goodnesse,
Wiþ-outen Malys More and lesse.
To knowe god þus furst men come
Bi resun—so maiȝt þou, ȝif þou take gome
Þin herte to god vp so to lifte,
In þeose þreo wyse as I skifte:
By his werk, and holy writ,
And bi resun of monnes wit
And of him-self in double kynde.
Wel ouȝte we þenne haue him in mynde,
Þat al þis world wiþ þat þer-Inne
Ȝaf, and him-self, vr loue to wynne.
Nou þou him knowest & his bounte,
Loue him wel for Charite
Euer-more to þi lyues ende!
To Ioye & blisse þen schaltou wende,
Þat he haþ ordeyned for vre solace.
Lord, bring vs þider for þi grace. Amen.
Þus endeþ þe spore of loue—
God grant vs þe blisse of heuene aboue.
| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | |