XXXIII. [MS. Addit. 5665, fol. 8, ro.] MERVELE nozt, Josep, on Mary mylde; If she be with chylde, hit ys not by me. The holy gost, with mercifulle disstens, What the angelle of God to me dothe say, Josep, thow shalt here mayde and moder fynde, Here sone redemptor of alle mankynde, Thy fore-faderes of paynes to unbynde; Therefor muse not this mater in thy mynde. Mervelle not. XXXIV. [MS. Addit. 5665, fol. 36, ro.] Profate, welcome, wellecome! Thys tyme ys borne a chylde of grace, That for us mankynde hathe take. profate. A kinges sone and an emperoure With us to dwelle with grete honowre. profate. This holy tyme of Cristesmesse, Alle sorwe and synne we shulde relese, And caste away alle hevynesse. profate. The gode lord of this place entere, Seith welcome to alle that now apere, Unto suche fare as ye fynde here. profate. Wellecome be this new ere! And loke ye alle be of gode chere Our Lorde God be at oure denere! profate. XXXV. [MS. Addit. No. 5665, fol. 40, vo.] Jhesu, fili virginis, miserere nobis. Jhesu, of a mayde thou woldest be borne, To save mankynde that was for-lorne, And alle for owr synnes, miserere nobis. Angelis ther were, mylde of mode, Song to that swete fode, Wyth joye and blisse: miserere nobis. In a cracche was that chylde layde, miserere nobis. Then for us he shadde his blode, And alleso he dyedde on the rode, And for us y-wysse, miserere nobis. And then to helle he toke the way, To raunson hem that ther lay, with joy and blisse: miserere nobis. XXXVI. [MS. Addit. No. 5665, fol. 9, ro.] MAN be joyfulle and myrth thou make, For Crist ys made man ffor thy sake. Man be mery I the rede, But be whar what merthis thou make; Crist ys clothed yn thy wede, And he ys made man for thy sake. He cam ffro hys ffader sete, Into this worlde to be thy make; Man be war how thou hym trete, For he ys made man for thy sake. Loke thou mercy ewyr crye, Now and alleway, rathe and late; And he wille sette the wonder hye, For he ys made man for thy sake. XXXVII. [MS. Addit. No. 5665, fol. 15, v.] HAVE mercy on me, kynge of blisse, Of Mary Criste was bore, To save us that were for-lore. Kyng of alle kynges. To us he gaffe a sompelle abowte, For he was wrapped in a clawte. Kyng of alle kynges. Pray we Jhesu, heven kyng, Alle so after owre endyng, To his blysse ever lastyng, Kyng of alle kynges. XXXVIII. [MS. Addit. No. 5665, fol. 23, vo.] Te laudamus, te dominum confitemur, te eternum. O BLESSE God in Trinité! Grete cause we have to blesse thy name, That now woldest sende downe fro the Synge we to God, fader eternalle, That luste to inne wyth oure nature, The sone of hym celestialle, Man to be borne oure saulis to cure. Te Deum. |