79vb]    5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50

¶ Jesu, for thi muchele miht,    Thou yef us, of thi grace, That we mowe, dai ant nyht,    Thenken o thi face. In myn herte hit doth me god When Y thenke on Jesu blod    That ran doun bi ys syde, From is herte doun to is fot; For ous he spradde is herte blod —    His wondes were so wyde! When Y thenke on Jesu ded,    Min herte overwerpes; Mi soule is won so is the led    For mi fole werkes. Ful wo is that ilke mon That Jesu ded no thenkes on,    What he soffrede so sore. For my synnes Y wil wete, Ant alle Y wyle hem forlete,    Nou ant evermore. Mon that is in joie ant blis,    Ant lith in shame ant synne, He is more then unwis    That therof nul nout blynne. Al this world, hit geth away; Me thynketh hit neyyth Domesday;       Nou man gos to grounde. Jesu Crist that tholede ded, He may oure soules to hevene led    Withinne a lutel stounde. Thah thou have al thi wille,    Thenk on Godes wondes, For that we ne shulde spille.    He tholede harde stoundes; Al for mon he tholede ded, Yyf he wyle leve on is red    Ant leve his folie. We shule have joie ant blis More then we conne seien, ywys,    In Jesu compagnie! Jesu, that wes milde ant fre,    Wes with spere ystongen; He was nailed to the tre,    With scourges yswongen. Al for mon he tholede shame, Withouten gult, withouten blame,    Bothe day ant other. Mon, ful muchel he lovede the When he wolde make the fre    Ant bicome thi brother.

¶ Jesus, by your great might,    Grant us, of your grace, That we may, day and night,    Think on your countenance. In my heart it does me good When I think on Jesus’ blood    That flowed down by his side, From his heart down to his foot; For us he spilled his heart’s blood —        His wounds were so wide! When I think on Jesus’ death,    My heart is downcast; My soul is ashen as lead    On account of my sinful works. Most woeful is that same man Who thinks not on Jesus’ death,    What he suffered so grievously. For my sins I will shed tears, And I will wholly renounce them,    Now and evermore. Man who is in joy and bliss,    And lies in shame and sin, He is more than unwise    Who will not cease thereof. All this world, it goes away; I think it approaches Doomsday;    Now man goes to ground. Jesus Christ who suffered death, He may lead our souls to heaven    Within a little while. Though you have all your will,    Think on God’s wounds, By which we will not perish.    He endured hard pangs; All for man he suffered death, If man will believe in his command    And leave behind his folly. We will have joy and bliss More than we can express, indeed,    In Jesus’ company! Jesus, who was mild and gracious,    Was pierced with a spear; He was nailed to the tree,    With scourges flogged. All for man he suffered shame, Without guilt, without blame,    Both day and other. Man, he loved you very much When he wished to make you free    And become your brother.

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