XVI. ‘Rarissima in delicijs,
Iam ueni: coronaberis.’
1
‘Come, my dere spowse and lady free;
Come to thy sonne in heven blis,
For why next me thy place shalbe.
Iam veni: coronaberis.
2
Come, my myelde dove, into thy cage,
With ioye and blis replete whiche is;
For why it is thyne heritage.
Iam veni: coronaberis.
3
Moost faire and swete, moost meke and myelde,
Come to thy sonne and king of blis.
Moder and mayden vndefielde,
Iam veni: coronaberis.
4
Thou art alle fayre, my spowse moost dere,
And spotte of synne in the noon is:
Come fro Liban, to me appere.
Iam veni: coronaberis.
5
Thy stature is assymylate
To a palme tree and thy bristis
To grapes, spowse inmaculate.
Iam veni: coronaberis.
6
Off alle clennes I am the floure,
The felde wherof thy pure soule is.
O virginall floure moost of honoure,
Iam veni: coronaberis.
7
Thy blessed body was my bowre,
Wherefore my blis thou shallt not mys,
And alle seintes shalle the honoure.
Iam veni: coronaberis.
8
With thy brestes so pure and clene
Thou haste me fedde, wherfore, i-wis,
Of heven blis thou shalt be quene.
Iam veni: coronaberis.’
