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
Who 's blood spronge out of cristes passyon And who that list by water to attame He shal hit fynde closyd in the same Of parfyte richesse it is t the resorye Whiche may not waste buty liche abyde The fyre it quenchith also of enuye And repressith the bolnyng eke of pryde And thorow mekenes settith yre a syde And who that hath this name in remembraunce Hym the spyryte of slouth may do no greuaunce It is also the myghty pauyce fayre Ageyn wanhope and dysperacion Cristal shelde of pallas for dispayre Therto auoyde the foule abusion And who that maketh his Inuocacion To this name with herte of stablenesse It yeuyth hym strengthe also sikernesse The cruel fyre brennyng to withstonde Of lecherye and al temptacion It is refuyte to fre eke to bonde That haue therin her hoole affeccion Who 's vertu was to kyng salamon Ful longe aforne in deuyne oracle As I fynde shewyd by myracle How prophetes and marters suffreden deth for the name of Ihesus capitulo This is the name of prophetes specifyed In her wrytyng and in her bookes olde Of apostles most hyghly magnefyed By whos vertu they the trouthe tolde This made also marters to be bolde And myghty like scerne champyons With stable herte to suffre her passyons By this name they were victorious In her turment pacience to haue This is the name that ygnasius Had in his herte of golde depe y graue Wherof the tyraunt gan hym sore abaue When that he sawe his herte cutte a tweyne 〈◊〉 letters newe depycte in euery veyne 〈…〉 name that to confessouris 〈…〉 in her abstynence 〈◊〉 is the 〈◊〉 that in sharpe shouris 〈…〉 lust was hoole her deffence 〈◊〉 yâ—ue hem myght to make resistence Ageyn synne and knyghtly to warreye â—nd to contynue in vertu tyl they deye It is the feste and the figured food Of maydenhede and of virgynyte The oyle of grace holsom to al good Whiche in the lampes of parfyte chastyte Brennyng so clere with loue and charite That worldly wyndes boystous blowyng Ne may not quenche the light of his shynyng This is the name that most yeuyth melodye Vnto the ere and the swettest sown It is the name of heuenly armonye To voyde out synne and al temptacion With ful accorde ayenst deuysion It causeth hertes no lenger to debate That partyd ben with the wreste of hate This name is ioye of sorowful in distresse Eternal mede of hem that lyuâ—n in blysse Salue vnto hem that langour in sekenesse Vesture in colde to hem that clothes mysse Souerayn repaste hungry for to wysse For to ascape the cruel vyolence Of nedes swerde whetted wyth Indygence Cryst is the name of sothfast sacrament That first was yeuen of holy vnccion And he was callyd first for this entent For he for man shold make oblacion And for he came for our sauacion To 〈◊〉 aweye the rust of al our blame He hath of Ihesus worthely the name I fynde in bookes of olde antyquyte In his writyng as clerkys list expresse How there were four persones of degree Somtyme anoynte for her worthynesse Somme for manhode somme for holynesse With obseruaunce and solempnyte As was couenable vnto hir degree Prophetes prestys they that beren crownes As worthy kynges of euery regyon Anoynted weren myghty champyownes Within palastre thorugh her hygh renowne Or in champcloos hardy as lyon Entre wold somme quarel to darreyne Syngulerly by empryse of hem tweyne And crist was al by reson as I preue Fyrst prophete by Informacion And by his doctryne most worthy of beleue And he was eke the myghty champyon That syngulerly for our sauacion Faught with the fende had of hym victorye Maugre his myght wanne the palme of gloâ—â— And he was preste man to reconsile That banyssid was out of his heritage Whom a serpent falsely dyd exyle Of falce malice in a sodayn rage And he was borne onely by lignage To be a kyng and by power eterne Whan he is crowned his peple to gouerne How cryst Ihesu was bothe prophete preest kyng and myghty champyon capitulo lxvj nOw crist Ihesu sothfast preest kynge And for mankynde most worthy warrioure Prophete also and trewest in lyuyng Be thou our helpe be thou our socoure And like a kyng be thou our gouernoure And champyon to helpe vs in our nede And like a prophete to wisshen vs and rede O crist Ihâ—su to the I clepe and crye Fro day to day to helpe vs and releue And of thy grace vs wretches for to gye Or that thou thy rightwysnes preue Let pyte first the to mercy meue And or thy swerde of vengeaunce vs manace Let trouth afore thy rightful dome enbrace For of our helpe thou art the pyllere Ageyn dispayre hooly our sustenaunce Our strengthe our myght our reâ—uyte fer nere In eche perille to saue vs from myscheaunce Thou art our force our sustenaunce And in myschyef whan drede wold vs assayle Thou art our shelde thou art our supportayle Thou art myghty and thou art meke also Thou art rightful and thou art merciable Lambe and lyon callyd bothe two And sothfast kyng whos reygne is Inmutable To repentaunte by rygour not vengealle And euer aforne in ponysshyng of thy lawe Pees to preferre or right his swerd may drawe And to brynge the lost shepe ageyn Out of deserte in to his pasture That was errant ydle and in veyne O crist Ihesu of thy benygne cure More redy ay to saue and to cure Al that ben sore scabbyd eke with synne Rather with pyte than thou with reddur wynne Now thou that art the veray rightful ligne Al that is crokyd goodely to redresse And mayster of mercy al our myschyef fyne O crist Ihesu welle of al swetnesse Lord of pyte lord of rightfulnesse Haue vpon vs this day compassyon That callyd is thy circumcision And grauntâ— vs grace with dewe reuerence This hygh feste so noble and so dygne Worshyp halowe deuoyde of al offence And be to vs goodely and benygne That were this day markyd with the signe And the carecte by the lawe ordeyned Is veray soth no thyng feyned And so as thou that neuer dyd trespasse Thorow thy mekenesse and lowly subieccion Suffre woldest this day of thy grace For our offence haue circumcision So kytte from vs al temptacion Of worldly lust make the flessh to serue To the spyryte tyl the body sterue And graunte vs grace to lyue chaste clene O crist Ihesu whyle that we been here Thorow the prayer of that heuenly quene That is mayde and moder eke in fere With helpe of hir graunte vs this newe yere So prudently with vertu vs prouyde Our vyces al that we may circumside And crist Ihesu we praye vnto the Lete thy name whether we ryde or goon In eche peryll and eche aduersite Be our defence ageynst our mortal foo To make hem stonde stylle as ony stoon And al that casten vs falsely
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
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