CXXII. Salue, regina glorie,
Mater misericordie.
1
O fayre Rachel semely in syght,
Ther is no spotte of syn in the;
Therfore of ryght thy name shall hight
‘Master misericordie.’
2
As holy writte thus concludith,
For cause oure helthe is wonne by þe,
Thou art bothe Ester and Iudith,
Mater misericordie.
3
Holofernes, the fende, is hede
With his owne swerde, o lady fre,
Thou hast smytte of and made hym dede,
Mater misericordie.
4
Aman alsoo, the fende, oure foo,
Thou hast hangyd vppon a tre:
Thus thou hast brought mankynd fro woo,
Mater misericordie.
5
O spowse of Crist so sweete and dere,
Ther is no creature like the:
In heuen ne erthe thou hast no pere,
Mater misericordie.
6
Alle creaturys dothe the honowre
And doith o-bey, lady, to the,
For thou hast born oure sauyowre,
Mater misericordie.
7
Blessid thou be of wommen alle,
For the sweete fruyte, that came of þe,
Hath made us free, thatte ay were þralle,
Mater misericordie.
8
Sith thou hast borne the kyng of grace
And alle oure trust restith in the,
In blysse cause us to haue a place,
Mater misericordie.
