the receyte of the holde Of god preseruyd for she was so clene Thorugh her meryte endewed for to bene By grace of hym that is of power moste With the seuen yeftes of the holy ghooste How our lady receyuyd the seuen yeftes of the holy ghoost capitulo quinto He fyrst yeft was the yefte of drede To eschewe eche thyng that shal god displese The next pyte of veray womanhede To rewe on al that she sawe in dysease The thyrd connyng god and man to please The fourth streng the thorow hyr stedfastnesse Onely by vertu al vyces to oppresse Of counceyl eke she had excellence To kepe hyr pure in vyrgynyte For ay with counceyl alyed is prudence Of vnderstondyng eke the pefte had she For god hym self chese with her to be And of wysedome so god lyst hyr auaunce To knowe eche thyng that was to his plesaunce She was also the Trone voyd of synne Thâ—â— stondyth so ryal in goddes owne syght To fore whiche seuen lampes brenne With heuenly fyre so spyrytual of lyght That neuer wast but euer alyche bryght Contynuen in one here aboue in heuen By the whiche trone and the lampys seuen Is vnderstonde this mayd most entere With seuen vertues that in her were founde That somtyme weren with ghoostely light so clere Thorow lyght of vertu inwardely iocounde Only thorowe grace that dyd in her habounde And al they were grounded in mekenesse Hyr lyght to god more plesauntly to dresse For fayth in hir had a grounde so 〈◊〉 That hit was voyde of al doublenesse Hyr hope of trist was also mayntynoble Rotyd in god by parfyt sike â—nesse Who 's charite so large gan hym dresse That vp to god hastyd ranne the fyre With herte of clennesse to al by desyre Stronge in vertu prudent in gouernaunce She had also conueyed with clennesse And soueraynly she had attemperaunce In al her werkis with grete aduysidnesse And euer annexyd vnto rightwysnes Within her hâ—rte of womanly bounte She had of custome mercy and pyte Sothfast ensaumple also of chastyte As saith ambrose she was in thought dede And trewe myrrour of vyrgynyte Of poorte benygne ful of bowlyhede As humble of chere and femynyne of drede Prudent of speche of what she list to shewe Large of sentence and but of wordes fewe To praye rede that was euer her lyf Of herte waker by deuocion To god alwey with thought contemplatyf Ful feruent euer in her entencion And ydel neuer from ocupacion And specially to almesdede Hir hande was euer redy at the nede And ful she was of compassyon To rewe in al that felt woo or smerâ—â— Wel wylled euer with hole affeccion To euery wyght so longe was hir â—erâ—e Sadde with al this that hir neuer aâ—â—erâ—â— A looke a myo of hir eyen fayre So close of sight was this deboneyre And in psalmes of holy prâ—phecye To loke and rede she founde most delyte And whan she sawe and founde in Isâ—ye Of cristys byrthe how he dyd wryte To god she lefte her tender hâ—ndys whyte Besechyng hym she myght abyde and see The basful day of his natyuyte And in the book of elyzabeth That tytelyd is of hyr auysions I fynde how thys mayde of nazareth Sayd euery day seuen orisons That callyd ben hir peticions With humble herte this blesful yonge mayde Ful lowly knelyng euen thus she sayde How our lady prayed to god for seuen peticions capitulo quinto o Blisful lord that knowest the entente Of euery hette in thyn eternal sight Yeue me grace the first coÌ„maundemente To fulfille as it is skylle and right And graunte also wyth herte wylle myght And al my sowle and al my knowynge The for to loue aboue al other thynge And yeue me myght playnly to fulfille The next byddyng like to thy plesaunce And for to loue with herte and al my wylle My neyghbour in dede and countenaunce Right as my self with euery circumstaunce And herewythal for ioye woo or smâ—â—te What thou louest to loue with al myn herte Thy precepte graunte eke that I may Fulfylle also bothe erly and late In suche maner as moste is to thy paye Benygne lorde and make me for to hate Mankyndes foo for he maad first debate In kynde of man and made hym to trespace Ayenst the and to lese his grace And lord graunt me for thy mercy dygne Aboue al thynge for to haue mekenes And make me humble sufferaunt benygne With pacience Inward myldenesse Of al vertues yeue me eke largenesse To be acceptyd the to queme and serue To fynde onely thy grace I may deserue And also lord wyth quakyng herte drede Mekely I praye vnto thy dey tee Me for to graunte of thy godlihede The gracious oure for to abyde and see In whiche the holy chosen mayden free In to this world here after shal be bore Lyke as prophetes hath writen here before How that she shal by thyn eleccion Be mayde and moder to thy sone dere Now good lord here myn oryson To kepe myn eyen and my sight entyere That I may see hir holy halowyd chere Hir sakerid beaute holy countynaunce Yf thou of grace list me so moche auaunce And kepe myn erys that they may also Here hir speche hir dallyaunce And with my tongue speke that mayden vnto Paciently thorow hir sufferaunce Of worldly Ioye this were suffysaunce And hir to loue like as I desyre Benygne lord so set myn herte afyre And lord also on me saue thou vouche Though I therto haue no wordynesse That holy mayde to handyl and touche Myn owne lady and my maystresse And that I may with humble buxumnesse Vpon my feet in al my best wyse Goo vnto hir for to do seruyse And to that floure of vyrgynyte Graunte also lord that I may haue space Mekely to bowe knele vpon my knee Vnder supporte onely of hyr grace And to honour the goodly yong face Of hir sone as she dothe hym wrappe In clothys softe lâ—ggyng in her lappe And loue hym best playnly to my laste Wiâ—h al myn herte myn hole seruyse Withouten chaunge while my lyf may laste Right as thy self lord canst best deuyse So that I may in faythful humble wyse In al this world nomore grace attayne Than loue hym best with al my myght payne And to thy grace also lord I praye To graunte me to fulfille in dede Hooly the statutes and mekely to obeye Within the temple as I here hem rede For but thou helpe I may no thynge spede As of my lyf therfore vnto the Alle I coÌ„mytte as thou list it be The obseruauncee the preceptis alle That to thy temple â— lord ben partynent So let thy grace by mercy on me falle That I may do hem with al myn hole entente And euery byddyng and coÌ„maundeyeent That thy mynystres assygnen vnto me Make me fulfille wyth al humylite And thy temple thy holy house Benygne lord kepe me from al damage And make thy peple
Sone of the fader withouten spotte al clene That doest away the worldes synne and tene Haue mercy on vs of thyn hygh goodnesse Syth thou thy self in parfyte holynesse Allone thou art sothely holy and no moo And lord allone ouer al thynge And worthyest and hyghest eke also O crist Ihesu of heuen and erthe kynge With the holy ghoost in glorye reynyng Ay with the fader by eternyte Thre knyt in one thrugh parfyte vnyte How the shepherdys founden cryst wyth our lady capitulo xliiij aNd whaÌ„ the aungels with this heueÌ„ly soÌ„ge The byrth of crist had magnefyed With parfyte gladnesse that was hem amonge To heuen anone ageyn they haue hem hyed And the hiâ—rdys by one accorde alyed Ben hastely vnto bethlem gone Where they founden when they came anone Marie and Ioseph and the chylde also Leyd in a stable accordyng euery dele As the aungel had sayd hem vnto And of the sight they lyked wonder wele And in hâ—m self gan knowe and fele That al was soth that they sayd afore Of the aungel how a chylde was bore In to this world mankynde for to saue After the recorde of olde prophecye Wherof they ganne so grete a ioye haue That al attones they gan magnefye God aboue deuoutly and to glorefye Retornyng hem deuoyde of euery smerte And marie choos within hir herte Conseruyd al that she dyd see Worde and dede and euery maner thynge That befylle in this natyuyte Ful secretly theron ymagenynge And prudently hir self gouernynge Kepte hir sone with al her besy cure Whiche on this day as sayth bonauenture Lyke a spouse from his chambre is goon His chosen chyldre thrugh his benygnyte In his chirche to ioye hem of syon By parfyte pees sothfast vnyte And he this day hath shewyd the beaute Of his face of excellente fayrnesse In whos honour this day of hygh gladnesse Was made the ympne the gospel sayth also Our alther myrthe and ioye to encrees Gloria in excelcis deo And in erthe this day a parfyt pees To man was shewyd withouten ony lees And as saith powle goddis benygnyte This day apperid in our humanyte How god wold not be borne but of a mayde moder and wyf capitulo xlv aNd ouer this as he eke telle can God was this day in symylitude In erthe honoured in liknesse of man And he this day his godhede dyd enclude In our manhode and shortely to conclude This day also yf I shal not feyne Befyl also other thynges tweyne The wonderfullest and most meruaylous That euer yet were seen tofore Wherof no wyght by kynde is capyous First how god to saue that was forlore Lowly in erthe list to be bore And how a mayde in hir virgynyte Myght also chylde and a moder be The whiche thynges passen and transende Reson of man by kyndes liknesse But fayth aboue must al comprehende And hit enbrace by parfyt stablenesse And make his grounde vpon the wytnesse Of propheâ—es whiche in her prophecye So longe aforne gan to speke and crye After the comyng of thys myghty kynge Our olde woo and trouble to enchace To whom dauyd sayd in his writyng O bâ—â—sful lord shewe to vs thy face And we in sothe onely thorugh thy grace Shullen saued be from al myschyef drede And also now in our grete nede Sende to vs thy comfortable light Vs to enlumyne liggyng in derknesse Eke ysaye with al his Inward sight Vp to heuen gan his loke to dresse And said lord of thy grete goodnesse Out of desert from the hard stone Vnto the doughter dwellyng in syone Send doun thy lambe fulfilled wyth mekenesse Tâ—at lordshyp hath and domynacion Of al the erthe our dole to redresse And wold god for our sauacion This myghty lord for to come a doun The hygh heuenes wold brekâ— on tweyne Vs to releue of that we so compleyne And dauyd spake eke this lord vnto In the sawter our sorowes for to fyne And sayd lord in relees of our woo In hygh heuyns thy mercy make enclyne And doun dyscende lat thy grace shyne Vpon vs wretchis in the vale of sorow And lord do dawe thy holy glad morowe Quod salamon and shewe to vs thy light Of thy mercy rewe on our distresse And with thy vertues that be so moche of myght That no man may counte theym ne expresse Fulfylle syon with hygh gladnesse Thy peples hertes make to renewe That thy prophetes may be founde trewe For out of the shal procede anone The myghty kyng and lord of Israel And now this day is coruen out of stone Without hondes of that holy helle Of whiche somtyme the prophete danyelle In his book wrote so longe aforne To signefye that there shold be borne At Iherusalem where as a myghty kynge Shal come in haste his peple to vysite And he shal brynge pees in his comynge Of whom the power shal not be a lyte For hit shal laste as hym lyst to wryte From see to see and al the erthe sprede Thorugh out the world in lengthe and brede And baruk commaunded to Iherusalem To be holde in al his beste entente Toward the brightnesse of the sonne beme And wysely loke in to the orient To see the gladnesse that this day is sent Doun to the erthe now that criyst is bore Of whos comyng so many a day afore Spake ysaye sayd in wordes playne The hygh heuens doo your grace adewe And sayd also the skyes shold rayne Vpon erthe her moysture for to shewe And bad the grounde eke in wordes fewe For to opyn and thus this heuenly shoure For to brynge our alther sauyour And Ieromye spake eke of this day And said on heyght god shold make sede A grayne of dauyd fayrer than floure in maye Whiche in fresshnes shal euer sprynge sprede And conserue Iuda out of drede And eke Israel kepe in sykernesse And he shal make dome and rightwysnesse Vpon the erthe of hygh and lowe degree And rightwysnes men shal his name calle Whan he cometh to sitte in the see Of kyng dauyd in his ryall stalle And he also tofore the prestys alle Bothe of Iuda and leuy shal deuyse With newe encence to do sacrefyse To god aboue for the grete offence Of the peple and ignoraunce With his offeryng make recompence Or that the swerde be whette of vengeaunce Euen lyke as made is remembraunce In malachye in the same wyse This sonne of lyf shal sprynge and aryse To al the that hym loue and drede And ben expectant with al humylite On his comyng to suche he shal out shede His light of grace at his natyuyte Wherfore be glad lyke as hit may be Thou bethleme y callyd effrata Though thou be lytyl namyd in Iuda For â—ut of the shal procede anone The myghty kyng and lord of Israel And now this day is coruen out of stone Withouten â—â—ndes of that holy helle Of the 〈◊〉 somtyme the prophete danyelle In his â—â—ke wrote so longe aforne â—o sigâ—efye
Sothfast seleer of his sustenaunce The tonne of lyf that euer dyd endure Ay lyke fresshe vnto his plesaunce With sacrid lycour of holy habundaunce That none but he may touche ne appronhe For hit for hym was onely set a broche For in that lycour is ful remedye Holy refuyte and playne medecyne Ageyn the venym brought in by enuye Thorugh false engyne malyce serpentyne Whan the snake made adam to dyne Of the appyl that was intoxicate Falsely with god to make hym at debate But now the mylke of thy pappys tweyne Benygne lady is to vs triaâ—le Within thy breste spryngeth from a veyne Ayenst the deth to be to vs obstacle O how it is a passyng hygh myracle Thorow goddes myght by nought ellys Out of a breste to see two smale wellys Of a mayde spryngyng as a ryuere To yeue hym drynke that is kyng of alle O goodely lady o heuenly botelâ—re Whan we in myschyef to the clepe calle Somme drope of grace let vpon vs falle And to that celer make a redy weye Where thou of mercy allone berist the keyâ— And of grace let be no scarsete Good lady that art of grace welle For now this day in erthe is borne of the The sothfast god of heuen erthe and helle Whiche is come doun with vs for to dwelle And hath of the our mortall kynde y take Of al our woo an ende for to make Somtyme fro heuen fyâ— doun the manne To refresshe the hungry in her nede And that befyl in deserte right thanne Whan moyses the peple dyd lede But now this day in erthe man to fede An humble mayde to al that ben trewe In this desert hath brought manna newe Whiche to aungel is the food of lyf To man repaste of ioye and of gladnesse Chyef recomforte and restoratyf To al feble oppressyd with sekenesse O good lady o myrrour of mekenesse Benygne floure of womanhede the welle In this deserte where as now we dwelle Send vs thy manna of souerayn hertes he le To our comforte and consolacion And let vs grace in thy mercy fele For our refuyte and refeccion And in this vale of confusion Let the grace fro the skyes rayne The manna of lyf that we may attayne For thou allone arâ— comforte synguler To al tho that no refuyte conne This day also of mercy the ryuere Fro whiche al grace is to mankynde ronne The sterre also that hath brought forth the sonne The sone of lyf in erthe for to wone O mayde o moder o doughter of thy sonne Whiche none in soth sithe the world began Was bothe two but thy self allone For who is he that remembre can First or last late or ellys soone So bright a sonne spryng of so fayr a mone Saue this day the sonne of lyf most shene From the aroos thou a mayde clene Without eclipsyng or lesyng of thy light For thou a moder and mayde bothe two In vâ—â—tuâ—ayâ—e like shene and bright O fayr â—oose o roose of Ierico That hast this day god and man also In bethelem borne ageyn the greye morowe The nyght to voyde of al our olde sorowe Of liknessis of our lady in commendacion of hir capitulo lix nOw fayr â—edre cyâ—resse of syon Spryngyng light of nazareth Chosen chambre of wyse salamon Floure of the felde swettest on holte heth Of whom al vertu saueth men fro deth Of syloe the water eke depurid Wherby the lepre of Naman was recuryd Laude and glorye of Iherusalem Thow namyd arte and of Israel gladnesse Holsom cestern this day of bethlehem The thrist of dauyd to sâ—aunche and distresse Of paradyse the welle in sothfastnesse Foyson that floweth in to sondry royames The soyle to adewe with his swete stremes The lond also of promyssyon That mylke and hony bothe in fere shedyth The soyle and grounde of our sauacion With his herbys that fosterith vs and fedeth Now blessyd mayde whos mercy euer nedeth Also that lyuen in thy seruyse This hygh feste so for vs deuyse That in honoure of thy sone dere We may of herte rede synge and praye And let the stremys of thyn eyen clere Thy seruauntes o lady myn conueye To contynue fully vntyl we deye The to serue with hertely loue and drede As moste is plesyng to thy womanhede And this feste of festys pryncipalle Callyd the feste of the natyuyte Make loue pees to reygne oueralle And hertis ioye wyth parfyt vnyte Voyde al dyscorde let no rancour be In hertes closed by malice or enmyte But of thy grace so gouerne vs and gye This hygh feste in whiche thy sone was borne Now this mydwynter nyght with ful affeccion Whyle phebus shyneth in the caprycorne We may the serue with al deuocion And lady myn in conclusion Now this monthe that callyd is decembre Vpon thy seruauntes faythfully remembre How cryst was circumcisyd capitulo lx wHan Ianus bifrons in colde Ianuarie With frosty berde entryd in the yere And phebus chare neyeth to aquarie His watery bemys tofore feuerere Whan that his light was pale nothyng clere And from hym late was passyd lucyne The same nyght as I sawe her shyne A ourned newe with bemes glad and merye On the heuen and cast his stremys doun I gan remembre of the hygh ferye That callyd is the circumcision How hit befyl than by reuolucion By iuste acountyng in the calendere The first day of the newe yere And thought I wold in my book procede Of this feste somwhat for to wryte And to the gospel first I gan take hede Of this day how luke list to endyte Though he therof speke but a lyte And was ful brief and compendyous Yet of this day hygh and glorious He writeth playnly sayth how that anone After the day of the natyuyte When eyght dayes passed were and gone The chylde was brought with al humylite To the temple lowly for to be As the lawe of the Iewys hath deuysed The eyght day to be circumcisâ—â—n And he therto mekely dyd obeye And with a knyf made ful sharpe of stone His moder lokyng with a pyteouâ— eye The chylde was corue therwythal anone That al abowt the reed blood gan gone Without abode as sayth bonauenture And for the payne he dyd endure And for sharpenes of the sodayn smerte The chylde gan wepe that pyte was to heâ—â— Wherfore his moder of veray tendyr herte Out brast on teris myght hir self not stere That al bydewyd were hir eyen clere Whan she sawe hym that she louyd so So yonge so fayre to wepe so for woo But he anone in al his passyon For al that he was so yonge of age In manere he had a compassyon To see his moder to wepe in her rage And put his hande vnto hir vysage On mouthe and eyen passyngly benygne And as he coude goodely made a signe Withouten speche to stynte her wepyng That came to hir of moderly pyte And she ful wel conceyuyth his menyng From poynte to
On her faces with his eyen bright And how that he put his armes ryght Goodely to hem makyng a maner signe To them of thankyng with chere ful benygne And of his moder they moche thynge enquere Towchyng his byrthe with humble affeccion And she answerith most femynyne of chere Ful prudently to euery questyon With chere demure look y cast adoun With al the porte of womanly clennesse Hir self demenyng cheefly with mekenesse Of vertuous pouerte and mekenesse of our lady capitulo lxxiij o She that was of heuen and erthe quene And of helle lady and pryncesse O what was she alas that myght sustene To be proude considerid hir mekenesse O pryde alas o rote of our distresse Though thy boost aboue the skye blowe Thy byldyng hygh shal be brought ful lowe O surquedrye alas why nylt thou see How that she had heuen in hir demeyne And lady is bothe of lond and see And of the axtre betwene the poles tweyne And of the enbracyng of the golden cheyne Yet vnto hir I say in sothfastnesse Aboue al this agreyd hir mekenesse O pompe elate with thy cheris bolde Remembre see and loke how that she Of whom kynges haue ioye to beholde In her presence to knele on her knee Though she of women be hyest in degree Take hede see how lowly in a stable How that she sat this lady honourable Were therre of gold ony clothes founde Of sylke damask or riche turturyne Or was there aras aboute her hede bounde Or was there ony velwet crymsyne Or was there ony samyte or satyne Or were there ony tapytes large or wyde The nakyd grounde to couer or to hyde Or was her paleys bylte of lyme stone Or the pylers set on marbyl graye Or the grounde pauyd on to gone Or fressh parlours glasid bright as day Or were therin chambris of aray Or for estates was there ony halle Saue a dongeon and an oxes stalle Or of hir bed was the appareyle Of golde silke corteyned large aboute Or were the shetis of longe or wyde entayle Kytte out of raynes nay without dowte Or were there ony ladyes for to lowte To hir hyghnes with besy obseruaunce Or of maydens ony attendaunce O as me semeth of veray dewe right Ye wymmen al sholden take hede With your perlys your stones bright How that our quene floure of womanhede Of no deuyse embrowdyd hath hir wede Ne furrid with ermyn ne with cristy graye Ne martyâ—n ne sabyl I trowe in good faye Was none founden in her garmente And yet she was the fayrest for to see That euer was vnder the firmamente That me semeth ye sholden haue pyte To see a lady of so hygh degree So semely atyrid o ye wymmen alle So narow closid in an oxes stalle Let be your pryde and your affection Of riche araye no thyng you delyte In worldly pompe and suche abusion Of soudry clothes rede blacke and whyte And be wel ware or the spere byte Of cruel deth and the fel smerte My counceyl is to lifte vp your herte To that lady to that worthy quene That you may beste helpe in your nede And you releue in euery woo and tene And delyuer from al myschyef and drede And thynke playnly take right good hede That al shal passe araye eke richesse Whan ye list wene al your semelynesse Let hem afore be to you a kalendere Isowde Eleyne and eke polycene Hestor also dydo with hir chere And riche candace of ethyope quene Lygge they not graue vnder colours grene And yet al this may not your pryde attame Notwithstondyng that ye shal doo the same And after deth abydeth no memorye For ay with deth comyth foryetefulnesse And fare wel than araye and al veynglorye Saue onely vertu that stondith in sikernesse I take recorde of the hygh mekenesse Of hir that is of holynesse welle Of whom I thynke sothely for to telle How that she satte for al her worthynesse Holdyng her chylde lowly on the grounde And kynges knelyng as ye haue herde expresse Beholdyng hir in vertu moste habounde Tyl at the last they haue a â—â—yser founde To take her leue and the same nyght They gan to ryde homward al her myght How the aungel warned the thre kynges to passe not by herodes but by another waye capitulo lxxiiij aNd suyng after on the next nyght Whyle they slepte at her lodgyng place Came an aungel apperyng with grete light And warned hem that they nought ne trace By herodes but that they shold pace Withouten taryeng in al the haste they may To her kyngdom by another waye And in shorte tyme to theyr regyon They ben repayred the gospel tellyth thus And of her names to make mencion The first in ebrew was callyd appelleus The next amerus the third damarus And in greke the first galgatha And sarachym the thyrd malgalatha And in latyne as bookes make mynde The first of hem namyd was Iaspar And the second playnly as I fynde Lyke myn auctour reherce as I dar Callyd was and namyd balthazar And the thyrd ye gete of me no more As I rede was callyd melchyore Of whos repayre as somme bookes seyn That first of al they wenten to the see And retornyng to her kyngdom ageyn They shypped hem at tharse the cyte For whiche herode of cursyd cruelte In tharse made al the shyppes brenne Wherof write dauyd the sawter yf ye kenne And vnto you clerely to specefye Towchyng this feste thys solemnyte Wherof is sayd this word epyphanye Whiche is a word of grete auctoryte And sayd and compowned who so can see Of epy first and phanos soth to sayn And one word compowned of thyse tweyne Cometh this word of epyphanye And this word epy by dyscripsion Is sayd of heyght as I can signefye And of a shewyng by demonstracion As phanos sayd and so by good reson Epy and phanos bothe knytte in fere Is a shewyng that doth a lofte appere And for this day alofte was the sterre Whiche crristes byrthe and Incarnacion With his stremes gan shede from so ferre From este to weste in many a regyon Wherof this feste in conclusion As ye toforne haue herde me specefye This feste is callyd of epyphanye The whiche feste hath a prerogatyf Of myracles notable in specialle For thynges foure wrought in cristes lyf Weren on this day by his power ryalle The first of al for a memoryalle Is of the kynges as ye haue herde me sayne Whiche were in ydel to reherce agayne The second is it is sothely tolde That crist Ihesu this day of saynt Iohn The yere whan he was thyrty wynter olde Baptised he was in the flom Iordayne At whiche tyme thre kynges vnder one Apperid this day worthy of memorye The first was that from the hygh glorye The faders voyce as clerkis list endyte Cam doun to erthe that men myght here And like a downe with fayr federis
hir shal trouthe mercy goon By one accorde sent afore my face Lyke my deuyse to chese me a place And say to hir in al maner thynge Hir tabernacle that she make feyre Ayenst the comyng of hir myghty kynge Whiche is my sone and myn owne heyre That in her brest shal haue his repeyre Where trouth mercy shal to gyder mete By one assent and her rancour lete And there shal pees kisse rightwysnes And al the susteris accorde in that place And right shal leue al hir stourdynes And trewthis swerde shal nomore manace And fynally mercy shal purchace A chartour of pardon like this mayden clene And whiche for man is so good a mene That he shal mowe escape daungers A myd the forest free from euery trappe While the mayde that causith al this pees Hath the vnycorne slepyng in her lappe That thorow mekenes shal his horne so wrappe There it was wont to slee by vyolence Thorow dâ—th it shal ageyn dâ—th â—e defence Ayenst venym more holsom than treacle Euery poyson asofte and aswage Whan the lyon makith his habytacle Within a mayde but of tendir age And gabriel shal goon on message To hir anone myn owne secretarye With newe tydynges no lenger tarye How gabryel the Aungel was sent to our lady capitulo xvj aNd right forthwith the aungel tarâ—eth nought But helde his waye from the see of glorye Vnto this mayde clene in wylle and thought Where as she sat in hir oratorye With herte ententyf with hole memorye Grete to god and al hir ful mynde To whom the aungel whan he dyd hir fynde Benygnely with al humylite Sayd vnto hir anone as ye shullen here Hayle ful of grace our lord is wyth the Ne drede the not but be right glad of chere That art to god so acceptable and dere That hooly his grace is vpon the falle To be most blessyd amonge wymmen alle And with that worde thorow goddis myght Al hole the somme of the deyte That from heuyn his blisful bemys bright Shadde on therâ—he of our humanyte Whan in the breste of a mayden free The holy ghoost by free eleccion For hir mekenes hath made his mancion For whan that bernard somtyme gan beholde With thought vp lift by contemplacion The bright soÌ„ne in herte he gan to colde Inly astoned in his aspeccion And ful deuoutly in a mediâ—acion Therof remembryng as he gan take hede Sayd euyn thus quakyng in a drede A lamentacion of saynt bernard cayitulo xvij a Lord quod he so I am agrysed And sore a drad to loke on this clerenesse And yet wel more wyth fere I am supprised For to beholde for myn vnworthynesse Ony worde to wryte or to expresse Of this mysterie and grete pryuyte Benygne lord lest thou saye to me What arte thou bolde or darist in ony wyse My rightwysnes to telle or to wryte Or to presume so hardely to deuyse My testament with thy mouth endyte That certes lord but yf thou respyte My wretchidnes by supporte of thy grace I gretely drede of deth for my trespace But wold god thrugh his grete myght And his goodnes lyke to my desyre That from th aulter that brennyth in his sight No litel sparcle but a flame of fyre Wold doun dissende myn herte to enspyre For to consume with his feruent hete The rusty filthe that in my mouthe doth flete And al vnclennesse cankerid there of olde To make clene and to scoure awaye That thorow his grace I durst be so bolde Other to wryte or somme worde to saye That was rehercid vpon the blisful day Whan gabriel and marie mette In nazareth and humbly hir grette But sithen this man so parfyt of lyuyng This holy bernard so good and gracious So dreedful was this mater in writynge That was of lyf so Inly vertuous How dare I than be presumptuous I wooful wretche in ony maner wyse To take on me this parfyt hygh emprise My lippis pollute my mouth with synne y soyled Myn herte vnclene and ful of cursidnessâ— My thought also wyth al vyces foyled My breste receyte cheste of wretchidnesse That me to wryte of ony parfitnesse Not onely drede of presumpsion But for to eschewe the Indignacion Of god aboue for my grete offence That I am bolde or hardy in his sight To dar presume the grete excellence For to descryue of hir that was so brigh But vnder hope that mercy passith right And that disdayne my style not veraye With humble herte thus to hym I praye A recapitulacion of the wordes of gabriel to our lady how holy men by deuyne liknessis wrote of our lady in coÌ„mendacion of hir ca xviij o Lord whos mercy goth not to declyne But euer eliche stondyth hoole in one That somtyme sendist doun frum seraphyne To Ysaye an aungel with a stone Wherwyth he began to touche his mouthe anonâ— To purge his lippis from al pollucion So let thy grace to me descende doun My rude tunge to explite and spede Somwhat to say in coÌ„mendacion Of hir that is welle of womanhede And thorow hir helpe and meditacion Be to my style ful dyreccion And let thy grace alwey be present This book to forther after myn entende For of my lyf for to vndertake To speke or write in so deuout matere Lytyl wonder though I tremble or quake And chaunge bothe countenaunce and chere Sithen this mayden of vertu tresorere Perturbyd was in loke and in vysage Of gabriel to here the message And ful demurely stylle gan abyde And in her herte castyng vp and doun Ful prudently vpon euery syde The maner of thys salutacion And how hit myght in conclusion In ony wyse fully performed be She stondyng hole in hyr virgynyte And whan the aungel sawe hir lowlyhede Heâ— humble countenaunce chaunged in her face He sayd marye for no thyng that you drede For tofore god thou hast founde grace And shalt conceyue within a lityl space And in thy wombe a sone of al vertu And shalt hym calle whan he is borne Ihesu That shal be grete namyd sothfastlye Sone of the hyest that euer was of myght And god to hym shal yeue ful Iustlye The see of dauyd his owne faders right And he shal reygne in euery wyghtes sight In the how 's of Iacob eternally by ligne Who 's kyngdom euer shal last neuer fyne And though his heste were passyng of renowne Surmountyng eke as in excellence That vtwardly yaf so meruaylous a sowne And wonderful to her audyence TheÌ„ne she ful mekely of grete reuerence And look doun cast of her eyen clere Benygnely the aungel gan enquere In what maner shal this thynge betyde Sithen I no man knowe in no degree Quod gabriel within thy blessyd syde The holy ghoost shal I shrowdyd be And al the vertu of the trynyte Enclose shal in thy brest so clene The sonne of lyf wyth al his bemys shenâ—â— Wherfore this childe that shal of the be borne Shal callyd be
not be borne of a mayde capitulo xx o Blynde man thorow thyn Inyquyte Why hast thou lost thy reson and thy sight That thou of malyce list not for to see How cryst Ihesu thorow his grete myght To his dyscyples helde the waye right Thorow the yatis y shytte by grete deffence Without brekyng or ony vyolence Who myght he not of his magnyficence Within a mayde make his mancion And she yet stood in hygh excellence Of maydenhede from al corrupcion Ye ben to blynde in your discressyon That list not to see also how he roos From deth to lyf in his sepulture cloos And here withal thou mayst also aduerte How he ful graciously of his myghty grace Made peter out of pryson to sterte And where hym lyst frely for to pace And yet the dores were shytte of the place What wonder than though god by myracle Within a mayde made his habytacle And beyng cloos and parfytly shytte With al the bondes of clene virgynyte For sothfastly hir clennesse was not lette Vpon no syde ne yet hir chastyte But encresyd and fauour for to see That goddes sone list to light adoun Within thys mayde to make his mancion Eke hildefons tellyth of a tree In stede of faite heriâ—h byrdys smale From yere to yere by kynde as men may see Without medlyng of female or of male This verily is soth playnly and no tale ThaÌ„ wondre not though crist were borne bitwene The chaste sydes of a mayden clene Eke certeyn byrdes called vultures Without medlyng conceyuyn by nature As bookes sayn withouten ony lees And of her lyf an hundred yere endure Than the lord of euery creature That causeth al no wonder though I say Though that he were conceyuyd of a maye And plunyus in bookes naturalle Wryte of a roche grete and large also That wyl remoue with a fynger smalle But yf a man do al his myght therto It wyl not stere neyther to ne fro Right so this mayde that is of vertu moste With a fynger of the holy ghooste And with a touche of his myghty grace Conseruyd hath stedfast god and man That neuer myght remoue from hir face Of thylke auowe that she first began To be a mayde as forforth as she can In herte wylle as ony roche stable That from his grounde is not remouable This clerke also this wyse plunius Seyth in tauriche there is an erthe founde That of nature is so vertuous That wyl cure euery maner wounde Right so marie was the erthe founde That god out choos by eleccion To bere the frute of our redempcion That shold be helthe and also medecyne To al our woundes whan they ake or smerte And our greuys our hurtis fyne From deth to make vs to asterte With holsom bawme percyng to the herte Our festerid soris that they shul ake nomore Ne that she ne were we were al forbore And ferthermore this auctour can eke telle Within his book who so loketh a right To Iubyter sacryd is a welle That whan it hath queynte his brondes bright That ofte agayn hit yeueth them a newe light Who list assaye soth as he shal fynde What wonder than though the god of kynde Amyd this welle from fylthe of synne colde Ful of vertu with fayr stremys clere His lodgyng took his myghty holde And thorow his grace sette hit newe afyre With the holy ghoost that withouten were Though she were colde from al flesshlyhede She brent in loue hotter than the glede And in falisco as hym list to wryte Is a welle that causeth eke of newe Whan the oxen drynke to be whyte And sodaynly to chaunge her hewe What meruayle than though the welle trewe The welle of helthe and of lyf eterne The lord of al so as I can disserne Thise stremys shedde in to this mayde free To make hir whightest as in holynesse That bothe shold mayde and moder be And euer in one kepe hir clennesse Withouten chaunge so that hir whitnesse Ne fadeth neuer in beaute ne in colour Of maydenhede to bere bothe leef and floure And who that wold dispute in this matere I holde hym madde or ellis out of mynde For yf he haue his eyen hoole and clere He shal now see preef ynough by kynde For he that made bothe leef and rynde And with a worde thise waste wordes wylde Myght make a mayde for to goo with chylde And 〈◊〉 that made the hygh cristal heuen The firmament also euery spere The goldyn axtree the sterris seuen Cithera so lusty for to appere And rede marce with his sterne chere Myght he not eke onely for our sake Within a mayde of man the kynde take And he that causeth fowles in the ayre In her kynde to waxe and multeplye And fysshe eke with fynnes siâ—â—d fayre In depe wawes to gouerne hem and gye And doth one lyue another dye And geuyth bestys her fode vpon the grounde And in his kynde doth hem to abounde Sithen he is lorde and causeth al thynge To haue beyng yf I shal not fayne And is the prynce and the worthy kyng That al enbracith in his myghty chayne Why myght he not by power souerayne At his free choys that al may saue and lose To his moder a clene mayde chese Who causeth the frute out of the hard tree By vertu onely that spryngeth from the rote To growe wexe â—â—ke as men may see With leuys grene newe blosmes soote Is it not that lord that for al our bote Wold of a mayde as I reherce can Mekely be borne without touche of man For he that doth the tender braunches sprynge And fressh floures in the grete mede That weren in wynter dede eke droppyng Of bawme voyde of lustyhede Myght be not make his grayne to growe sede Within her brest that was bothe mayde wyf Wherof is made the sothfast breed of lyf And he that grauyd of his grete myght Without poyntel in the harde stone And the tablâ—s with lettres clere and bright His ten preceptes byldynges eurichone The same lord of his power allone Hath made this mayde here in erthe bowe A chylde conceyue and no man to knowe And he that made the busshe to appere Al on flame with feâ—ly sparcles shene And whan moyses gan to approche nere And yet no harme cam to the bowes grene The same lord hath conseruyd clene His habytacle his herber swete In this mayde from al flesshly hete And he that made the yerde of moyses Of a serpent to take the liknesse In the halle amonge al the prees Where pharao the peple dyd oppresse And in deserte the byble beriâ—h wytnesse The ryuer made to renne out of the stone The thrist to staunche of the peple anone And ouer this for to verefye His grete myght sampson the stronge man As Iudicum doth playnly specefye Dranke the water that from the chanel ran And he that made the flodys of Iurdan To torn agayne for loue
that there shold be borne A chylde in soth without touche of man Of a mayde after his beheste That lyke a stone was y corue out than Whan he was borne of this hygh feste Only to bere the crowne and the cheste In babylonye of the grete ymage That made man first for to doo oultrage For now in soth comyn is the day Of prophetes so longe beforne â—ehyght For cryst Ihesu playnly this is no nay Is lyke a stone who so lokyth a right Whiche by his wysdom his faders myght And the vertu of the holy ghoost Was coruen out so clene of euery coost Of that blessyd parfyt holy hylle That growyth ful of holsom flouris fayre For out of hir that was in herte and wylle A parfyt mayde humble and debonayre Lyke as the dewe of heuen doth repayre Vpon hermon alwey newe and newe Amendyng ay the fresshnes of her hewe Right so thorow vertu lastyng ay in one Of the holy ghoost this day of marye Was coruen out the sothfast angle stoou Whom that prophetes prayse and magnefye For she this day was the glad skye Whiche the chylde of elye dyd see So plesantly dessende from the tree Vpon the erthe nakyd and barayne Of holsom faite and of erbys sote That hath shadde the comfortable rayne The grayne of grace for our alther boâ—e That percyd hath euen to the rote Of our Welfare to do the leuys sprynge For she allone is the felde flourynge That somtyme gaue so passyng a swetenes To Isaak whan he was falle in age Of whiche he cast so Inward gladnesse That hym thought hoâ—e his corage Renewyd was and wyth a glad vysage Vnto Iacob of hertely ioye sayde On his clothys as he his hondes layde How ysaac prophecyed the byrthe of cryst by towchyng of the clothys of hys sone Iacob capitulo xlvj myn owne chylde and my sone dere The grete swetenesse of the fressh odoure Of thy clothyng to me is so entere That hit fro me deuoydeth al langoure Seyng tofore that there shold a floure Out of the felde sprynge of his kynrede The whiche shold suche an odoure shede That al the world shal comforte fynde hele In the swetenes agaynst eche maladye And souerayn helthe in euery myschyef fele So that this was no wyght but marie That by dyssent cam of his alye Out of the whiche to glade al our chere This day in erthe there dyd a floure appere The swettest yet that euer man behelde Passyng the rose and the floure delyse And of this holy fressh fayr felde Somtyme the spouse spake in canticis Whan he it sawe so fresshe at his deuyse And habundaunt of a tempre eyre And that it was so passyng Iâ—ly fayre How the garnet appyll is lykened to our lady capitulo xlvij o How the bawme of heuenly lycoure Of thy swetenes with souerayn suffysaunce Lyke paradyse shedyth his vapoure Erly a morowe auoydyng al greuaunce Lyke the frute that is of suche plesaunce The garnet appyl of colour golden hewed Thorow whos odoure the corage is renewed Of euery wyght that may the eyre receyue For euen lyke as the golden rynde Is playne shynyng as ye may conceyue His colour kepyng euer in one by kynde And doth his pypynes in the scales bynde To do comforte to seke in her accesse Right so marie our sekenes to redresse This day hath borne the holsom holy frute The frute of lyf that with his swete breth Is remedye and also cheef refute To mankynde agayn the feuer of deth For as the grayne of the garnet sleeth The stronge axes and doth the hete auale Right so this day out of the golden scale The holsom pepyne and the grayne of lyf Crist Ihesu gan first to appere And of marye moder mayde and wyf The goldyn garnet with gis scales clere Beyng al hole and euer a like entere Was borne in soth for to refresshe blyue Our olde axes and right as the olyue His oyle shedith and braunche leef ne tree Apperith not of fayrnes ne coloure Right so marye flouryng in chastyte This day hath borne our alther sauyour The oyle of pees to stynte our langour To softe our soris and our swellyng slake Of al our woundes whan they smerte oâ— ake And now this day shortely for to wryte This blâ—sful tyme of the natyuyte Of yonge Ioseph the cote polymyte Wrought by the poure of al the trynyte Within the closette of chosen chastyte Parformyd was and by none hande of man As alysaunder wel wherce can Within his book made in speciall On cantica as ye may rede and see The whiche cloth of purpyl most ryall Hewyd wyth clennesse of virgynyte This day hath shewyd in our humanyte The godhede hoole for by this cloth is ment Of our kynde the freel garnement How Ioseph fygurid the byrthe of crist capitulo xlviij aLso this day of Ioseph the canele Amyd the felde that doth the vertu floure Was gaderyd vp by clennesse euery dele Whom al that other gan worshyp and honoure For in chastyte clene chosen bowre Of maydenhede this canel grewe by kynde That whan the brethern of Ioseph dyd bynde Eueriche his sheef the byble gan deuyse How hit stode vp amonge hem euerichone And al the other gan attones ryse And worshippyd hit mekely one and one For this Ioseph sawe this day allone Sonne and mone and sterris eke eleuen To hym obeye vpon the hygh heuen And the sothfast garner of the holy greyne As sayth guydo was a mayde swete In whom was shytte sothely for to seyne The sacrid store and eke the halowyd whete Of the seuen yere that dyd in plente flete For on this parfyt roote vertuous The seuen eeris of grayne so plenteuous This day be growen to ful perfeccion To saue egypte in his grete nede And for to be to hym sauacion In crafte whan he hath nede For this is the grayne that fostre and fede With ful repaste woman chylde and man And al his brethern dwellyng in canaan T is yonge Ioseph this Ioseph the second Shal by his wytte helpe and releue And Iacob made in plente to abounde With fulsum fode at morow and eke at eue That the hunger on no syde ne greue Of the seuenth yere vnto his lignage And like as Ioseph in his tendyr age Thought he sawe hygh vp in heuen Sonne and mone in his auysion And therwithal sterris eke elleuen Honoure hym with grete deuocion Of this Ioseph excellyng of renowne This newe Ioseph crist Ihesu hym selue Of the sterris and the signes twelue Honowrid was with lowe subieccion Though he laye lowe in an oxes stallâ— For bothe troni and domynacion And hole the courte aboue celestyal This hygh feste for a memorial The laudis songe in the heuen quere Lyke as dauyd â—ad in the saultere Preyseth the lord of the high empyre And with one voyse his byrthe glorefyeth That hath with loue brent and set a fyre Seraphyn wherfore hym magnefyeth Betwene two bestis
poynte than anone gan she To loke on hym that was so fayr to see And his feturis consideryd by and by And in her armes wonder womanly She took hym vp prayed hym be stylle As of moderis is playnly the manere And he in al obeyeth to hir wylle Though he were yoÌ„ge gan to chaunge his cherâ— And with hâ—r kerchyeâ— she made his eyen clere On his chekys in al that euer she may Ful moderly the trerys wypte awaye How in four maner of wyses cryst was circumcisid capitulo lxj and like of alquyn as it is deuysid That crist Ihesu who so list to see In foure maners was trewly circumcisid Fyrst of his fader at his natyuyte With the knyf of wylful pouerte And now this day whiche is not feyned Eke wyth a knyf by the lawe ordeyned The thyrd maner ye may eke consyder How with the knyf of grete aduersite That he was kyt first whan he cam hyder Takyng for vs oure humanyte And alther last with ful cruelte For vs he suffrid circumcision Vpon the crosse duryng his passyon How crist suffryd circumcision in his chosen peple capitulo lxij eKe in four maner who so can take hede Cryst in is chosen by good Inspeccion Here in this world withouten ony drede Of newe he suffrid circumcision The first is made by false detraccion That kytteth aweye bothe frende and fame And the shynyng of her goode name The second is by false tyrannye Of suche that haue no conscience at alle But taketh aweye by cursid robberyâ— Vnrightfully her goodes temporalle And the thyrd sothely is most mortallâ— Of heretykes that falsely dysobeye To holy chirche to our fayth vareye The fourth is made by effusion of bloode Of tyrauntes that the body sleeth Whan they of malice ageyn the fayth stoode To execute her venym vp by deeth To make marters to yelde vp the breeth Whom crist Ihesu eternally in glorye Ordayned hath a palme of victorye Eke fyue tymes cryst in his manhede Shad his blood by effusion And alther first whan he dyd blede Vpon the day of circumcision And next in soth tofore his passyon Vpon the hylle for anguysshe whan he swette The rede blood whiche al his body wette The thyrd tyme his blood most vertuous Gan renne out by many a cruel wounde Whan that he was this kyng most gracious Of the Iewes to a pyler bounde The fourth tyme eke as it is founde He spent his blood for our alther good Whan he was naylyd hygh vpon the rood And alther last whan longeus a fere Thorugh his herte playnly as I fynde On caluere hym percyd with a spere That blood water as bookes make mynde Gan streme doun to his eyen blynde By whos vertu anone this paynym knyght Onely of gâ—â—ce recouerd hath his sight And in bookes eke as it is tolde How the pyâ—ce of his Incision Was by an aungel in an vrne of golde To charks brought in a vysion And be anone of grete affeccion Of this myracle for the excellence Made hit be kept for grete reuerence And at Aâ—on but yf bookes lye Ful many yere by reuolucion In a chirche sothely of marye But clerkys haue an opynyon That the day of resurrexyon Whan cryst Ihesu rose from deth to lyue The same pyâ—ce retorned as blyue To the place where that it cam fro Sythen that it was sothely as I fynde Of his manhode parteynyng therto And a party longyng to his kynde Though hit be so that bookes make mynde That in rome it is yet preseruyd And yere by yere whan this feste is seruyd In a chirche whiche men of custome calle Sancta sanctorum of olde foundacion The same day there the prestys alle Solemâ—nely make a stacion Whan al the peple goon on processyon Fully in hâ—pe better for to spede From yere to yere there they synge rede And ferthermore the storye doth deuyse The same day right forthwyth anone In the temple as they hym circumcise He namyd was Ihe of echone The which name longe or that agone Was of the aungel tolde sayd afore To his moder or that he were bore How the peple of god that our Iosue had in gouernaunce weren sauyd by the stedfast beleue of the name of Ihesus capitulo lxiij aNd to reherce the grete worthynesse Of this name whiche may not be described My wyttes ben so dulle with rudenesse And in the chayne of ygnoraunce guyded That I alas of konnyng am depryâ—ed Thorow lacke of wytte in ony maner wyse To vnderfonge so passyng hygh empryse For this is the name who so can discerne Most excellent and most of dygnyte The name of namys sacrid from eterne As sayth bernard who so list to see Fygurid first vnto Iosue Thorugh his knyghthode whan he shold lede The peple of god to saue hem in her nede For this is the name that hertis most desyre For therin is so passyng swetenesse For it may best hem with grace enspyre And with plente of al goodely rychesse It is comforte socoure in sekenesse Refuyte also reste and remedye To al tho that felen maladye Ayenst langour the best medecyne In al this world that o where may be founde For this name is so heuenly and deuyne That hertes seke hit doth with he le habounde It curith soris it heâ—ith euery wounde And sauyth man fro many a swerde spere Where euer they ryden in londe ferre oâ— nere It is first writen in the book of lyf For worthyest and moste of reuerence And it is eke best preseruatyf Ageyn the assent of the vyolence Of wicked eyre to voyde pestelence And from the deth hem that playnen sore Of his vertu to helthe it doth restore It is also sothfast sauacion To al that be in pouerte and in nede It is deffence it is proteccion In eche parille in euery drede It is also the guerdon and the mede In them that ben in exyle of oultrage Repeyre fynal of hir pylgrymage This is the welle with the foure stremys Wherof writeth bernard in his sentence That thorugh the world refresshith al royames It is so holsom of suche excellence The first be callyth the streme of sapyence Of whiche the flood most Inly is habounde And rightwysnesse he namyth the secounde And the thyrd be callyth holynesse For hit excellyth in perfeccion The fourth also as I can expresse Is the flode of our redempcion And of the first in conclusion Of whiche the stremes ben so fressh and fyne Who so loketh a right is hoole our doctryne And of his right to make mencion The holsom welle euer doth flowe flete With mercy medlid and remyssyon Tofore his dome his yre for to lete And of the thyrd the water is so swete By good ensaumple who so can dyscerne In vertu ay how we shullen vs gouerne And of the fourth to speke in specialle Is al our helthe and sauacion For therin is our remedy fynall Ageynst deth and ful proteccion
to wareye Make her malice mekely to obeye To thy name make hem stonde al backe Or they haue power to hawnte her cruel myght And wicked spirites so horible blacke That besy ben to wayte vs day and nyght Lete thy name dryue hem out of sight And in our forhede whan we Ihe Impresse Make vs of grace her malice to oppresse For to thy name hooly we commende Our lyf our deth body herte alle Our sâ—wle also whan we hens wende O crist Ihu o lord Inmortal Prayeng to the whan thou vs deme shal To saue al tho from eternal shame That haue ful fayth hoole trist in thy name How by the prophecye of balaam watche was made vpon an hylle capitulo lxvij tHou lord whos light dessendith fro so ferâ—â— Thorow the roundenes of the speres nyne Withouten whom phebus ne no sterre Vpon heuen power hath to shyne Let now thy light my derknes enlumyne That thorow thyn helpe I may my style gye Somwhat to sey of thyn epyphanye And let my brest benygne lord be dewyd Doun with somme drope from thy mageste That was this day by a sterre y shewyd Out of the este to worthy kynges thre Whiche on this nyght of thy natyuyte Gan first aspye the bright bemys clere Of this sterre on the heuen apere Of whom the sprynge was not cansille Of fortune ne sodayn auenture For many a day or this thyng befylle And many a yere by recorde of scripture With a waytyng wonder besy cure In veray soth as I remembre can A certeyn kynrede toward the occian Whiche of the stocke and the lyne cam Who so list loke in bookes from a ferre And of the blode of olde balaam That somtyme had with his asse werre The whiche sayd there shold ryse a sterre Out of Iacob and from Israelle Al be that he therof no tyme coude telle Vpon whos word fully in beleue There shold aryse suche a sterre light Weren twelue chosen the trouthe for to preue Within mydwynter euer fro nyght to nyght Whan in aquarie phebus shadde his light For to awayte in al her best wyse Whan this sterre in heuen wold aryse And these twelue weren of kynrede Of balam as ye haue herde me telle That yere by yere shold take hede Vpon an hylle besyde a lytyl welle And ther in fere a certeyn space dwelle Anoynted bathed in clothes whyte And they of custome to speke but a lyte But in prayer in certeyn rytes vsid They must wake and wayte in specialle And none of hem platly to be excusid Vpon this hylle namyd victoryalle And yf one dyd that his sone shalle This statute olde his place ocupye â—r effys one that were next of alye 〈◊〉 this commytted duryng many yere 〈◊〉 custome vsid of antyquyte 〈◊〉 phebus went by meuyng circuler â—o they kept her tymes by degree And eche yere weren certeyn dayes thre 〈◊〉 â—aâ—kyng cast and computacion Sought chosen out by good eleccion For 〈◊〉 awayte the vprist by the morowe Of this sterre with his lemes glade Whiche balam sayd shold auoyde her sorowe At his vpâ—â—st whos bemes may not fade To shewe his light in euery shroude shade Without wrestyng or drawyng to declyne Tyl at the last for the same fyne To see this sterre most famous of renown On the heuen whan hit shold appere The worthy kynges as made is mencion Vpon the hylle to gyder goon in fere For cause they who so list to here Were of the stocke of balam doun discendyd Wherfore of sorte the hylle they be ascendyd As fyl on hem by custome to succede At a certeyn of the yere by reuolucion And on this hylle estward they toke hede By good auyse in her Inspeccion The same nyght of the Incarnacion Whan crist was born in bethlehem of marye The same oure the sterre they aspye Of newe aryson in the oryent Ful lusty of whom the bemes light Gan enlumyne al the firmament From este to west it yaue so clere a light That of the stremes euery maner wyght Astonyd was they were so bright shene And to the eye ful persant for to sene The whiche sterre drowe his course of right Toward the hylle lyke as bookes telle Where the kynges the long wynters nyght It to awayte solytarye dwelle And there anone vpon her knees felle And thankyd god with al her hertes luste Whiche hath not hem defrauded of her lust How the thre kynges perceyuyd the sterre capitulo lxix aNd al that nyght to gyder as they woke Vpon this sterre that shone so fayr clere And sodaynly vpward as they gan loke They sawe a chylde aboue the sterre appere So yonge so fayr in a golden spere Ful ryally stonde aboue his hede A large crosse that was of blood ful rede The whiche chylde spake to hem anone Aboue the hylle with voyce and chere benygne And bad hem fast that they shold gone In to Iuda right as ony lyne And folowe alwey the sterre for a signe That shal hem brynge to that regyon Where the kyng most worthy of renown Was borne that tyme to haue the regallye Of Iewes lond of veray dewe right To whom the sterre dyd specefye Whan he was borne with his clere light And they anone whan passyd was the nyght The next morowe no lenger list abyde But toward hym cast hem for to ryde With grete araye and ryal aparayle As was sittyng to theyr worthynesse They shope hem forth for they nolde not fayle To do honoure to his noblenesse With hem they toke golde grete richesse To spende yeue also for they ment With yeftes grete the chylde to present And forth they gone no lenger wold they tarye Thorow many a londe many a dyuerse yle Eueriche of hem on a dromedarye Whiche weren so swyfte that ful many a myle They passyd haue within a lityl whyle That in the space of dayes thyrtene By conduyte onely of the sterre shene They entrid ben in to Iherusaleem That of Iuda was the chyef cyte Conueyed euer with the bright beem Of the sterre that was so fayr to see And whan they amyd the cytee be Not astonyed axed in audyence Where is the kyng grettest of reuerence Of Iewes borne for to bere the crowne Who 's sterre we haue seen in the oryent That from heuen cast his stremys downe Whiche al the world vnder the firmament Is glad to see we of one entent Haue yeftes brought out of our contre Hym to honoure in his ryall see And whan herode of theyr comyng knewe He troubelyd was also al the town And gan anone to chaunge chere and hewe And made in haste a conuocaciyn Of al the prestys dwellyng enuyron To knowe clerely be certefyed Of the place that was specefyed Of prophetes where crist shal be borne And they anone the trouthe to hym tolde In bethlehem as they ful longe aforne Fownden out in her bookes olde And al the