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Meditacion of þe Soule.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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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.
Ȝif þou weore bounde for to telle

exemplum


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,

272

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.