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1
Parce michi, Domine! 1
Lyef Lord, my soule Thow spare!
The sothe I sey now sykerly:
That my dayes nought they are,
For though I be bryght of ble —
The fayrest man that ys oughware —
Yet shall my fayrenesse fade and fle,
And I shal be but wormes ware.
And when my body ys all bare,
And on a bere brought shal be,
I not what I may synge thare
But Parce michi, Domine.
2
What ys a man, wete I wolde, 2
That magnifyeth hymself alway,
But a marke made in molde
Of a clyngyng clot of clay?
Thow shopest us for that we shulde
Have ben in blysse forever and ay —
But nowe — allas! — bothe yong and olde
Foryetyn hit bothe nyght and day!
A, good Lord! What shall I say?
I that stande in thys degré?
I wote nothyng that helpe may
But Parce michi, Domine.
3
Or why puttist Thow thyn hert ayene 3
That Thow hast so dere bought?
Thow vysyteste hym, and art full fayne
Sodenly to preve yef he be ought.
To longe in synne we have layne,
For synne hath so oure soule thorow sought;
To helpe oureself have we no mayne —
So moche woo hit hath us wrought!
But to the pyt when we be brought,
Then men woll wepe for the and me,
But certes all that helpeth nought,
But Parce michi, Domine.
4
O why so longe or Thow wolt spare 4
Me in synne, that depe dyve?
Thow woldest suffer never mare
Me to swolowe my salyve?
I have The gylt and grevyd sare,
For synne with me hathe ben to ryve;
But, Lord, now lere me with Thy lare
That dedly synne fro me may dryve.
And, Jhesu, for Thy woundes fyve,
As Thow becammest man for me,
When I shall passe oute of lyve,
Than Parce michi, Domine.
5
What shall I do unto The, 5
O Thow Kepar of all mankynde?
Of suche a matiere why madest Thow me
To The contrarious me for to fynde?
O Fader of Heven, fayre and fre,
As Thow art bothe good and hende,
Yet be kynde, as Thow hast be,
And spare me, Lorde, that am unkynde.
Thy frenshyp, Fader, late me fynde,
As Thow art God in Trinité.
Of Thy mercy make me have mynde
Wyth Parce michi, Domine.
6
Why takest Thow nat my syn away, 6
A Thow God of all goodnesse?
And why, also, as I The say,
Dost nat awey my wykednesse?
Thow madest me of a clot of clay
That breketh ofte thorough brotylnesse:
Full brotyll I am — hit ys no nay! —
That maketh me ofte to do amysse.
But, good Jhesu, I pray The thys,
For thy grete benygnyté,
Thy mercy, Lorde, late me nat mys,
But Parce michi, Domine.
7
Loo, in pouder I shall slepe, 7
For owte of poudere furst I cam,
And into poudere must I crepe,
For of that same kynde I am.
That I ne am pouder I may not threpe,
For erthe I am as was Adam,
And nowe my pytte ys dolven depe;
Though men me seke, ryght nought I am!
O Thow, Fader Abraham,
For Mary love, that mayde so fre
In whos blode thy Son swame,
So Parce michi, Domine.
8
Hyt forthynketh my soule, ywys, 8
The lyfe that I have lad alway;
For now my speche ayenst me ys;
Sothly my lyfe I shall dysplay.
In sorow and in bytternesse,
Of myn oune soule, thus shall I say:
"Now, good Jhesu, Kynge of Blysse,
Dampne me nat at Domesday!"
And, good Jhesu — to The I pray! —
Telle how thus Thow demest me.
Nowe yeve me mercy, and say nat nay,
Wyth Parce michi, Domine!
9
Semeth hit good, Lord, unto The, 9
To thryste me doune, and me accuse?
I am Thy werke, Thow madest me:
Thyne oune handwerk Thow nat refuse.
Wythyn the close of cheryté,
Good God, Thow me recluse,
And yef I gylte The in any degré,
With Thy mercy Thow me excuse.
Ne late me never of maters muse
That fallen unto dyshonesté.
Thys prayer Thow nat recuse,
But Parce michi, Domine.
10
Whether Thyne eyen flesshly be, 10
Or yef Thow seest as seeth a man?
Nay, forsoth, but oonly we
Of outeward thynges beholdyng han;
But inward thynges dost Thow se,
That non other may se ne can.
Therfore, Lorde, I pray to The,
Warne me when I am mystan,
That I may flee fro foule Sathan,
That ys aboute to perysshe me.
Lese nat that Thow ones wan,
But Parce michi, Domine.
11
Whether Thy dayes, Lord, be lyke 11
As mennys dayes, that dwellen here,
Or Thy yeres be ought lyke
To the tymes of mannes yere?
That day a man ys fresshe and fryke,
And sheweth forth a gladsom chere;
But tomorow he wexeth syke,
And haply borne forthe on a bere.
Thus mannes tyme ys in a were,
But Thy tyme stondeth in oo degré.
Therfore, I pray in thys manere:
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine.
2
For to seche my wyckednesse, 12
And for to serche thus all my synne,
Methynketh hit cometh of grete hardnes
With me, Lorde, so to begynne.
Shewe Thow forth thy grete goodnes,
And Thyne hardshyp up Thow pynne;
Thynke opon the brytylnesse
That alwey worcheth me withynne,
And sythen I may nat fro The twyn,
Ne from Thyne hande warysshed be,
Though I offende more or mynne,
Ever Parce michi, Domine.
13
Thyne handes, Lorde, have made me 13
And formed me in shap of man,
And me Thow settest in degré
Of grete nobley after than.
But whan I, thorough the sotylté,
Deceyved was of foule Sathan,
Thow puttedyst me fro that dignité
Hedlyng doune on my brayn pan.
Noon other cause alege I can
But that synne hathe depryved me.
Now for the blood that from The ranne,
So Parce michi, Domine!
14
Have mynde, therfore, I The pray, 14
O Thow God, Almighty Kynge,
Thynke Thow madest me of clay,
And into clay Thow shalt me brynge.
Suche ys Thy myght, and hath be ay,
And sythen Thow madest furst all thynge,
Who dare sey ayene The nay,
To lette Thy wyll or Thy lykyng?
There ys no man, olde ne yonge,
That stryve dar ayenst The;
Therfore nede maketh me synge,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine.
15
Mylkedest nat me, Lorde, as mylke, 15
With nesshe blood, whan Thow me made?
And sythen, Lord, Thow madest that ylke,
Ryght as the hardnesse of chese ys hade?
My bloode ys nessher than ys sylke,
In reyny weder that sone woll fade,
And thus me made do dedys swylke
With whyche my goste ys ofte unglade.
And thus in sinne full depe I wade
That nygh I droune thorow freelté!
Although I can of synne nat sade,
Yet Parce michi, Domine.
16
With flesshe and felle Thow hast me cladde, 16
With bones and synewes togeder knyt;
Lyfe and mercy of The I hadde;
To governe me Thow yave me wyt.
To kepe Thyne hestes Thow me bade,
And seydest that I shuld, for hit,
In heven blysse be ever gladde.
And yet I woll nat fro syn flytte,
But freelté, Lord, so me smytte,
Unnethe kepte ys oone for me!
Nat for than I pray The yet
For Parce michi, Domine.
17
Lyfe and mercy Thow yave me, ay! 17
When I wold Thy mercy crave,
Thow seydest to me nat ones nay,
But glad was when I wold hit have.
Thow were redy, nyght and day,
With mercy, Lord, me to save!
But I denyed hit alwey,
So woodly syn made me to rave;
I servyd syn, and was hys knave;
I dyd that was ayenst me.
Now, Lord, when I am leyde in grave,
Than Parce michi, Domine!
18
Thy vysitacion, Lorde, hath kepte 18
My spyryte that ys me withyn,
For when I wolde to syn have lepte,
Than holy grace made me to blyn;
And ofte tyme I have sore wept
The more grace of The to wyn;
And thus with wepyng have I wypt
My soule, Lord, from dedly synne.
Lord, late me never werke begynne
That in any wyse may displese The;
And, somtyme, though I from The twyn,
Yet, Lord, Parce michi, Domine.
19
What wykednes — all that I have! — 19
With my synnes — all on an hepe! —
Shewe me hem or I go to grave,
That I for hem may sore wepe,
My soule, Lord, that I may save
From the pyt of hell so depe,
Where synful soules tumble and rave
In endeles woo — ataketh good kepe! —
Toodes on hem doth crowde and crepe —
In suche peynes the soules be!
From that place I may nat kepe
Withouten Parce michi, Domine.
20
Why hydest Thow fro me Thy face, 20
That ys so full of all fayrenesse?
I mene thys: Somtyme Thy grace
That Thow withdrawest, and yevest me lesse.
As Thyne enemy Thow dost me chace,
Demyng me in grete hardnesse;
Thy love fayne wold I purchase
Yef Thow wolt me hit graunte of thy goodnes.
Now graunte me, Lord, suche stedfastnes
That I may stande in oo degré,
And though I fall thorow brotylnes,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine.
21
Ayenst a leefe, that lyght ys to blowe, 21
To me, that am freel of kynde,
Thy myght and power dost Thow showe;
Although I myght beres bynde,
With wyndes ofte I overthrowe.
Suche fondyng of The I fynde.
I renne forthe fro rowe to rowe,
Somtyme before, somtyme behynde;
I grope as a man that ys full blynde,
But though I stomble, Thow folowest me:
A, Lord! Though I to The be unkynde,
Yet Parce michi, Domine!
22
Thow wrytest, Lord, ayenst me 22
Bytternesse, that I shall rede
At Domesday, in syght of The
And all the worlde in length and brede;
That I dyd in pryvyté
There opynly hit owte shall sprede.
And thys Thow wylt full well yse,
And distroy me for my wyked dede!
But, Lorde, to The I clepe and grede,
As Thow art Lorde of all pyté,
That day when I shall drope and drede,
Than Parce michi, Domine!
23
In a synew Thow hast my feet sette, 23
With the whyche that I go shall,
And all the pathes Thow hast mette
That ever I yede in wey or walle;
There ys nothyng that The may lette
To knowe my steppes, grete and smalle,
Wycked and worse, good and bette —
I wote well, Thow considerest alle!
But, Lorde, to The I clepe and calle:
When I slyde, supporte Thow me,
And though somtyme I take a falle,
Yet Parce michi, Domine!
24
The whyche, as rotyng shall consume, 24
And fare as mowthe-eten cloth,
And as from the fyre departeth fume,
So body and soule asundre goth.
I am made of a lothly hume —
Hit ys a thyng to man most loth!
Wherof than shulde I presume
To be hygh-herted or lyghtly wroth?
Though I be he that ofte mysdoth,
Of mercy art Thow large and fre;
As I leve that thys ys soth,
So Parce michi, Domine!
25
A man that ys of a woman bore 25
But lytell whyle he lyveth here,
And every day, more and more,
Replenysshed ys with synnes sere;
With hote and colde, and hungor sore,
Turmented ys from yere to yere,
And ofte hym wanteth Goddys lore,
That gostly wey he shuld lere.
And thus he wandreth in a were,
As a man blynd, and may nat se!
Therfore I pray The, with lovely chere,
For Parce michi, Domine!
26
The whyche spryngeth oute as a floure 26
That groweth fresshe, all men to glade,
But when he with a sharpe shoure
Ys smyten, begynneth sone to fade.
So lese I the fayre coloure
That God Almyghty furst in me made,
And thus I chaunge in every houre,
And fle away ryght as a shade;
And herewith I am full lade
With synnes of diverse degré —
Of heven blysse me nought degrade,
But Parce michi, Domine!
27
And, Lord, Thow lettest that hit be dygne 27
Thyne eyen to opene uppon suche on,
And hym Thow shewest, by that sygne,
That he, with The, to dome shall gone.
Have mercy on me, Jhesu benygne!
Methynketh myn hert ys harder than ston,
And besyed with a spiryte maligne,
My flesshe, the worlde, they ben my fone!
These ben myn enemyes, Lord, echone,
Ever aboute to perysshe me!
Lorde, for the love of Mary and John,
Ever Parce michi, Domine!
28
But, Lord, who may clene make 28
Conceyved thyng of seede unclene?
Nat Thow? A, yes, I undertake,
Yef The lyste to make hit clene.
Allas! I walke in a lake
Of dedly synne that doth me tene;
But, Lorde, for the Love of Maryes sake,
Amende the harme that I of mene.
Ywys I am nat worthe a bene,
Of my sylfe, to commendyd be.
Yet helpe me, Lorde, with thy grace shene,
And ever Parce michi, Domine!
29
Mennes dayes ben shorte. Beware! 29
And therto take good entente!
For in respyte of tyme evermare,
They beth nothyng equipolent.
The nombre of hys monthes are
Alwey at The, Lorde, verament;
Oure lyfe ys nought but sorow and care
Tyll we be passed jugement.
My wyttes, Lorde, I have myspent
That Thow me yave to rewle with me,
But that I may ryse up and here repent,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine!
30
Hys termes, Lord, Thow hast ordeyned: 30
How longe he shall now lyve here,
That may he nat passe, ne be refreyned, 31
But by Thyne absolute power;
Thys sentence may be well susteyned
By a story, as we may here.
Howe Ezechye to dethward peyned
And yet God addyd over fiftene yere;
Hys kyndly tyme was comen full nere,
But for hys synnes tho wepte he!
Lorde, yeve me grace that I may here
Have Parce michi, Domine!
31
Therfore, Lord, a lytell go awey, 32
Withdrawe Thyn hande, that man may rest,
Tyll he desyre hys dethe day
And wylne to be shut up in hys cheste;
And late hym lyve, yef hym lust ay;
Thys holde I, Lorde, for the beste.
All dysease from hym delay,
Tyll the careyn in erthe be keste.
Allas, all thys world now ys myswrest
To carpe thys, Lorde, ayenst The!
Make me to Thy mercy trest
For Parce michi, Domine!
32
Who to me may yeve or graunte, 33
For love or any affeccioun,
Fro Thy wrathe that ys duraunte
I may have my proteccioun?
In helle, yef I be concurraunte,
There am I in subjeccioun;
In heven, though Thow woldest me haunte,
Yet there am I at Thy correccioun.
I may nat from Thy respeccioun
By no way, Lorde, hyde now me;
Therfore seye I thys leccioun
Of Parce michi, Domine!
33
And Thow woldest a tyme ordeyne 34
In whyche Thow woldest of me have mynde,
With som solace me to susteyne,
That of Thy blysse am so fere behynde.
My woo from The can I nat leyne,
But telle hit The, for Thow art kynde:
I am fast bounde here with a cheyne
Of dedly synne, full wele I fynde,
But woldest Thow, Lorde, me unbynde
Thorough the vertew of Thy pyté,
Than were I glad, and lyght as lynde,
To have Parce michi, Domine!
34
Trowest Thow nat that man shal ryse 35
Ayene to lyfe, that dyed onys?
Yes, and that in a wonderful wyse,
With flesshe and felle, bloode and bones.
Than shal God Hys dome devyse,
And to Hym take the good att ones;
But dampned soules shullen sore gryse,
And yeve a shoute with hydous grones.
Thus make they shull wofull mones,
All that shullen dampned be.
That I may dwelle withyn the wones
Of Parce michi, Domine!
35
All the dayes that I lyve here 36
In thys wofull wepyng dale,
I byde alwey, from yere to yere,
Tyll I chaunge, as men do fale.
Change I shall withouten were,
Nat ay be dwellyng in thys vale;
But, Lorde, whan I am leyde on bere,
Hye up to heven my soule hale —
For there commyn neyther grete ne smale,
But Thow drawe hem, Lorde, to The —
That my soule be not in bale,
But Parce michi, Domine!
36
Thow shalt me call at Domesday, 37
When Thow art set on jugement,
And I to The, wythouten delay,
Shall yeve myn answere verament.
But, good Jhesu, to The I pray,
Thynke alwey with full entent;
Thow madest me of a clot of clay;
Thyne handwerke helpe, as Thow furst ment!
And my wittes though I have myspent
Thorough malyce, here, of frealté,
Here, leef Lorde, late me repente,
Thorow Parce michi, Domine!
37
Forsothe, my steppys everychone 38
Thow nombred hast, and tolde hem all.
But, Lorde, to The I make my mone,
As Thow art Lord of heven and hell.
Vertues, Lorde, though I have none,
Late Thy grace in me now welle,
For woo ys hym that stante alone,
And hathe noon helpe yef that he fall.
My syn ys bytterer than eysell or gall,
And stynketh, Lorde, in syght of The;
But nought for than to The I call
For Parce michi, Domine!
38
My spyryt shal be feble and feynt 39
When I am fallen in any age;
My dayes, make I never so queynt,
Shullen abrege and somwhat swage.
And I ful sone shal be atteynt
Whan I have loste myn hote corage;
And though I dyed than as doth a seynt,
A pyt shal be myne herytage.
In erthe gete I non other wage
Of all rychesse that man may se;
Whan I am closed in that cage,
Than Parce michi, Domine!
39
I have nat synned wylfully 40
Thorow my feynt, feble nature,
Ne greved The so grevosly,
Wherfore I shulde thys wo endure.
Thow punysshest me, and I not why,
Passing resoun and good mesure.
Hit ys my flessh, Lorde, and nat I,
That grocheth ayenst Thyn hard reddure.
But, Lorde, as I am Thy creature,
And Thow that ylke God that boughtest me,
So my care recovere and cure
With Parce michi, Domine!
40
My dayes, Lorde, passed are, 41
And olde I am, I am no faunt.
My thoughtes wandre wyde whare,
For they ben, Lorde, full variaunte.
Myne herte they grevyn wonder sare,
For ever about hym they haunte;
Thys maketh me to drowpe and dare,
That I am lyke a pore penaunte!
Though I be, Lorde, unsuffisaunte
Any helpe to gete of The,
Yet, for I am Thy creaunte,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine!
41
The nyght they turned into the day, 42
For they maden me to wake all nyght;
I myght nat slepe by no way,
Suche thoughtes were in myn hert plyght.
In derkenesse dymme as I so lay,
Yet hoped I after the clere daylyght;
But thoughtys me so trobled ay,
That I was than a wofull wyght!
But, Lorde, as Thow art mekyl of myght,
All evyll thoughtes put fro me,
And that I of The may have a syght,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine!
42
Lorde, yef I shall suffre thys grete disese, 43
Hit woll me brynge unto my grave!
And yet, ywys, I may nat chese,
Whether I be kyng, knyght, or knave.
In derkenesse dymme, all oute of ese,
My lytell bed spred I have:
That bed shall I never lese,
Though I wolde for angor rave,
Tyll the Day of Dome that, of my grave,
I shall aryse, and mo with me.
My soule, Lorde, I pray, Thow save
With Parce michi, Domine!
43
To roten erthe, ryght thus sayde I, 44
"Thow art my fader of whom I cam,"
And unto wormes sekurly,
"Thow art my moder, thy son I am;
My sustren all ye bene, forwhy
None other then ye, forsoth, I am."
I shall call hem sustres, lo, forthy
For I shall roote amonge ham.
Of the lowest erthe God made Adam,
Of whyche my kynde I had, as he.
Now, Lorde, that art lykened to a lambe,
So Parce michi, Domine!
44
Where ys myn abydyng nowe, 45
And all my pacience therto?
They ben away, I wote never howe,
Forsothe me wanteth bothe two.
Yef myn hert be styf and towe,
To thanke The in wele and woo,
Hit ys nat I, but only Thow.
Thow art my Lord and God also.
O Thow, grete Lord, Alpha and Oo,
Helpe me, for Thy grete pyté!
I have ynowgh, I pray The hoo,
And Parce michi, Domine!
45
To my skyn my mouth ys lo, 46
And cleved fast, as ye se may;
And wasted ys my flesshe also;
And bothe my lyppes ben away;
My whyte tethe, they ben full bloo —
Ye wolde be agaste yef ye me say!
Myne heryng ys full clene ago;
Myne eyen ben dymme, that weren ful gray;
And I that was full stoute and gay,
Full horyble am now opon to se!
Tyme ys that men now for me pray,
For Parce michi, Domine!
46
Reweth on me, reweth on me! 47
My frendes namly, now helpeth at nede!
For I am there I may nat fle;
The hande of God ful sore I drede.
And frendes, seeth that I am he
Thys other day that on the erth yede.
Now helpe, yef that youre wyll be,
With prayer, fastyng, and almesdede.
For these mowen best gete me mede
With Placebo and Dirige.
Herewith my soule, I pray yow, fede
With Parce michi, Domine!
47
Why, as God, do ye pursewe 48
Me that suffre these sharpe shoures?
Ye lat me peyne here in a peynfull pewe,
That ys a place of grete doloures.
Yow I chese for frendes trewe,
And made yow myne executoures.
But tyme shall come that ye shall rewe
That ever ye were to me so false treytoures.
My good ys spent, as hit were youres,
But nat a peny yevyn ye me.
Nowe for all suche faytoures,
Lorde, Parce michi, Domine!
48
Who may graunte me thys boone, 49
That my wordes wreten were
In ensample of everychon
That hap may to ben in care?
For yef they wolden make moone,
Eyther groche with hert sare
Ayenst God that sytteth in troone,
Because yef they wolden spare
And make nat so ferly fare,
But take ensample wolden of me. 50
Now, Lorde, as I am but wormes ware,
So Parce michi, Domine!
49
Who shall graunt me, or I be dede, 51
To wryte hem by oon and oone,
My booke with ynke blak or rede,
Made with gumme and vermylone?
Or ellys yet in plate of lede,
Or graven in harde flynte of stone,
That all men, whereever they yede,
Myght otherwhyle loke theropon?
I wolde my frendys and my foon
Ensample take myght by me.
As Thow art Thre, and God al Oon,
Now Parce michi, Domine!
50
I wote ryght well that my Redemptour 52
Lyveth yet, and lyve shall aye!
And I shall ryse, I not what oure,
Oute of the erthe on Domysdaye,
And take to me my furst coloure,
In flesshe and felle, clad on clay.
And so shall I see my Savyour
Deme the worlde in wondre aray.
The wikked than, withouten delay,
As arowes, to helle they shullen fle.
Lorde, that I go nat that way,
So Parce michi, Domine!
51
Whan I mysylfe shall see in syght, 53
With eyen clere and hert stable,
And knowe Hym as God Almyght,
That was forme man disparitable,
Shall ther fore me noon other wyght
Se my God that ys durable,
But I mysylfe, with eyen bryght,
Shall Hym beholde most honorable:
O Lord, that charyté that ys so amyable,
And bryght shynyng in Thy magesté!
That syght to se, Lord, make me able,
Thorow Parce michi, Domine!
52
Thys hope ys in myn hert sette, 54
That never from me shall dyssevere.
Thereyn my truste also ys knette,
The whyche to have now ys me levere.
I hope to God that I shall gete
Of all diseases yet rekevere,
And se my Lorde in Hys turete,
With whom I hope to dwelle ever!
Though I be synfull, Lorde, take me never
In any thyng that may displese The.
Thy blysse late me have forever
Thorough Parce michi, Domine!
53
A, Lord, why leddest Thow so me 55
Oute of the wombe that I was in?
Wold God I had consumed be
Within myn oune moders skynne!
That the eye with whyche I se
Had nat seyn no more ne mynne!
That I myght in that degré
Never have wyste what had be synne!
For syn maketh me from The to twynne -
That of nought madest Thow me — 56
Thy mercy, Lord, make me to wynne
With Parce michi, Domine!
54
And wold God that I be hadde 57
As a thyng that never was —
For all with synne I am bestadde,
And every day I do trespas!
No wonder though I be ungladde,
And though I synge often "allas!"
For pure woo I wexed madde,
Nere Goddys mercy my solas —
Lo, Lorde, lo, I am ryght as
A wytles man withouten The!
But, as Thow of plenté mercy has,
So Parce michi, Domine!
55
Whether the fewnes of my dayes 58
Shull nat hastyly have an ende?
Sythen I can se by no worldly wayes,
But oute of the world sone shal I wende,
The worldes wyles ryght nat me payes,
For they ben false and full unthende.
My flesshly lust my soule affrayes,
And I am tempted with the fende.
Thys maketh me to bowe and bende
Alwey to syn, that woo ys me.
Lord, that art curteys and hende,
So Parce michi, Domine!
56
Therfore, Lord, suffer Thow me 59
A lytell whyle that wepe I may
The tyme that ever I greved The
In ded or thought, by nyght or day,
And graunt me, yef Thy wyl be,
That here in erthe wepe I may.
The derke lande that I never se,
That kevered ys with black alway,
Now, good Jhesu, to The I pray,
As Thow art God in Trinité,
From that londe Thow kepe me ay,
Thorow Parce michi, Domine!
57
The londe of myschyef and of derknes, 60
Whereas dampned soules dwell,
The londe of woo and of wrechednesse,
Where ben mo peynes than tonge may telle,
The londe of dethe and of duresse,
In whyche noon order may dwelle,
The londe of wepyng and of drerynesse,
And stynkyng sorow on to smelle!
Now from that londe, that cleped ys helle,
Worthy Lord, rescue now Thow me,
So that I maye ever with The dwelle
Thorough Parce michi, Domine!
Here endeth the ix lessons of the Dirige, which Job made in his tribulacion.
|
Spare me, Lord!; (see note)
Dear
truth; certainly
nothing
complexion
anywhere
disappear
food for worms; (see note)
bier
do not know; (see note)
(see note)
understand; (see note)
a molded impression made
From a sticky clod
shape us in order that
ever
forget
(see note)
condition
know of; (see note)
against; (see note)
That one whom
eager
determine if; anything
thoroughly pervaded; (see note)
strength
made for us
pit [of hell]
thee (the reader)
certainly
(see note)
before; (see note)
Who am delved so deeply in sin
(see note)
saliva; (see note)
offended and sorely grieved You; (n)
too rife
teach; lore; (see note)
Which may drive deadly sin from me; (n)
(see note)
(see note)
How shall I serve
substance
that causes me to be contrary
(see note)
gentle
kind (natural); (see note)
unkind (unnatural)
(see note)
O
lump
brittleness (i.e., weakness)
I cannot deny it!
(see note)
mildness
dust
nature
dispute
grave; dug deeply; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
Mary's; generous
(see note)
My soul repents, indeed; (see note)
led
Truly; (see note)
own; (see note)
Damn
judge; (see note)
give; do not deny [me]
(see note)
thrust; (see note)
do not refuse
enclosure of charity
make me a recluse
if I offend
dwell on; (see note)
tend toward dishonesty
refuse; (see note)
[How can I know] Whether
if
have the power to behold
(see note)
mistaken
destroy
Lose not what You once won; (see note)
[How can I know] Whether; (see note)
anything
duration
vigorous; (see note)
face; (see note)
becomes ill
will perchance be borne; bier; (see note)
state of uncertainty
one
(see note)
examine; (see note)
(see note)
comes from great obstinancy; (see note)
[and] so begins [there]
restrain
works entirely
since; part
protected
less
(see note)
rank
worthiness; (see note)
subtlety
by; (see note)
cast
Headlong; skull; (see note)
for the sake of the blood; (see note)
(see note)
been forever; (see note)
since You created
say no to You
To prevent
nor; (see note)
dares to strive
(see note)
(see note)
soft blood
then; same [blood]; (see note)
Harden like cheese; (see note)
softer
I am made to do such deeds; (see note)
spirit; sorry
almost; frailty
be satiated
skin
from; (see note)
gave me intelligence
commands; ordered
flee
frailty; has so smitten me
Scarcely; one [command] by me
Despite that [failure]
(see note)
never once no; (see note)
madly
that which was against; (see note)
(see note)
preserved
(see note)
desist; (see note)
whipped; (see note)
let
any way; (see note)
separate
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
Show them to me before
grievously; (see note)
(see note)
beware!
Toads upon them; (see note)
keep myself; (see note)
(see note)
chase; (see note)
Judging; obstinacy [in sin]
earnestly; (see note)
If; (see note)
persistence
(see note)
(see note)
As [the wind] against a leaf; (see note)
frail by nature; (see note)
[be bold enough to] bind bears; (see note)
By [Your] winds; am overthrown
testing from You; (see note)
fully blind; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
Bitter things
in Your sight
That which; private
(see note)
see; (see note)
(see note)
call and cry out
compassion; (see note)
be abject and afraid; (see note)
snare; (see note)
have watched (L. observati)
walked in open or walled places; (see note)
may prevent You from knowing
better
speak
That which rotting; (see note)
(see note)
smoke; (see note)
[do] body; go asunder
loathly compost (humus); (see note)
loathsome
For what reason then; (see note)
proud or playfully angry
acts wrongfully
generous
believe; true; (see note)
born of a woman; (see note)
lives here but a little while
diverse
(see note)
(see note)
desires; teachings
So that the spiritual way; learn
state of uncertainty
(see note)
loving countenance; (see note)
(see note)
That which; (see note)
please
shower [of rain or afflictions]
(see note)
ghost; (see note)
laden; (see note)
diverse kinds
From; do not demote me; (see note)
may you allow; worthy
such a one
shall go with You to judgment
kind
(see note)
occupied by; evil
are my foes; (see note)
each one; (see note)
destroy
St. John the Evangelist; (see note)
undefiled; (see note)
A thing conceived of unclean seed
I am sure [You may]; (see note)
If it pleases You
does me harm
complain about
bean; (see note)
On my own merits
shining; (see note)
(see note)
are
heed; (see note)
in comparison to eternity
not at all equivalent
at Your will; truly
(see note)
reasoning power
gave to me to rule myself
(see note)
(see note)
His (A man's)
(see note)
Except by means of
illustrated
(see note)
Ezekiel declined to death
added [to his life]
His (Ezekiel's) natural
then
(see note)
(see note)
wishes; coffin; (see note)
always as he pleases; (see note)
This I maintain is; (see note)
withhold
body; cast
misguided; (see note)
complain in this manner; (see note)
trust
(see note)
(see note)
For the sake of
everlasting; (see note)
May I be protected; (see note)
prone to rebel; (see note)
(see note)
stay near me; (see note)
(see note)
sight
(see note)
lesson; (see note)
If
Who from; (see note)
conceal
I must tell it to You
(see note)
(see note)
compassion
a linden tree; (see note)
(see note)
Do You not believe
wondrous manner; (see note)
skin
(see note)
complain
hideous
(see note)
[Grant] that; place; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
remain always
fail; (see note)
doubt
valley
pull; (see note)
comes
(see note)
truly; (see note)
attention
intended
which I have wasted; (see note)
in my frailty
(see note)
every one
numbered; tallied
(see note)
Let; spring up; (see note)
who stands
more bitter; vinegar; (see note)
for that reason
(see note)
at any age; (see note)
no matter how carefully I live them; (n)
be cut short and somewhat abated
overcome
fiery pride
payment
grave; (see note)
Nor aggrieved You
That I should [deserve to]
do not know; (see note)
beyond what is reasonable
complains about; strictness
(see note)
same; (see note)
restore to health
infant
everywhere; (see note)
indecisive; (see note)
afflict
it
droop and cower
humble penitent
unworthy
because; creature; (see note)
(see note)
they = the thoughts; (see note)
by no means
fastened; (see note)
I looked for
creature
great; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
unease; (see note)
choose
(see note)
(see note)
lose
from; (see note)
more
(see note)
(see note)
father from
certainly
mother; (see note)
sisters; because; (see note)
Nothing; than you, truly; (see note)
for that reason; (see note)
(see note)
nature
(see note)
endurance
Truly I am in need of
If; firm and strong [enough]
weal and woe
the credit is due only to You
Omega
have had enough; cease; (see note)
(see note)
[attached] low; (see note)
(see note)
blackened; (see note)
saw
hearing is entirely gone
(see note)
cheerful
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
Pity me, pity me!
(see note)
there where
(see note)
[Who] This; passed; (see note)
(see note)
almsgiving; (see note)
might; reward
(see note)
(see note)
assaults
suffer; allotted situation; (see note)
agonies
regret
traitors
as if; (see note)
did you give to me
imposters; (see note)
(see note)
request
be written
As example to everyone
Who may happen to be in care
if; complaint; (see note)
Or lament with heavy heart; (see note)
throne
(see note)
(see note)
food for wormes; (see note)
them (i.e., words); (see note)
(see note)
gum; vermilion (a pigment); (see note)
by lead impression; (see note)
engraved in hard flintstone
go; (see note)
in other times
would like that; foes
(see note)
(see note)
forever
do not know what hour
(see note)
coloring
in; (see note)
wondrous fashion
(see note)
steadfast; (see note)
in form unequal to man; (see note)
before me; person
gleaming eyes; (see note)
[Who] is most honorable
whose charity is; (see note)
depart
knit (i.e., bound)
I am eager
gain recovery from
turret
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
less; (see note)
condition
separate; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
treated; (see note)
beset
despondent
Were not; (see note)
just like
witless (i.e., unreasoning)
(see note)
[How may I know] Whether; scarcity
foresee
pass; (see note)
do not pay me [justly]; (see note)
entirely unprofitable
frightens my soul
by the fiend
This state
gentle
(see note)
allow; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
covered
(see note)
sinfulness
hardship
(see note)
(see note)
(see note)
called; (see note)
(see note)
(see note)
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