CXX. Salue, regina glorie,
Mater misericordie.
1
O Iesse yerde florigerat,
The fruyte of lyff is sprunge of the,
The prynce of peas desiderate,
Mater misericordie.
2
O quene of blisse celestiall,
Childryn of Eve, we call to the
Here in this vale terrestriall,
Mater misericordie.
3
When all mankynde for syn was lost,
The kyng of grace was born of the
By vertu of the holygost,
Mater misericordie.
4
As the sonne beame goith through the glasse,
The sonne of god passid throughe the,
And so bothe god and man he wasse,
Mater misericordie.
5
Thatte lord, thatte in thy wombe did rest,
The whiche hath made and create the,
Thou hast fedde with thy holy brest,
Mater misericordie.
6
Thatte Eve hath take a wey fro us,
Thou yeldist with thi fruyte Ihesus;
Therfore thy name is callyd thus:
‘Mater misericordie.’
7
The ierarchies with ordres nyne,
For cause that Crist is born of the,
They honowre the with laude dyuyne,
Mater misericordie.
8
Besiche thatt kyng of myghtis most,
The whiche hath take mankynd of the,
For oure syn thatte we be not lost,
Mater misericordie.
