Her and se and sey ry3t nou3t; Than schall men sey thou art well touzt, Of al the ryches under the son, Than is a tauzt man for to konne Whatsoever be in thi brest, Stop thi mouzt with thi fyst, And lok thou thynk well of had-i-wyst, And whan thou syttyst at the ale, Be war to whom thou tellist thi tale, XIX. Make we myrth For Crystes byrth, And syng we zole tyl Candelmes. THE fyrst day of 30le have we in mynd, Of all owre synnes and wykednes. To God that he saw stond in hevyn, And crounned was for hys prouesse. The iij. day longeth to sent Johan, Hys moder der for hyr clennesse. The iiij. day of the chyldren 3ong, But with ther blod bar hym wytnesse. The v. day longeth to sent Thomas, Held up the chyrch, and sclayn he was, The viij. day tok Jhesu hys name, That saved mankynd fro syn and shame, But for ensample of meknesse. Thus worschyppyd thei his worthynes. On the xl. day cam Mary myld, To shew hyr clen that never was fylyd, XX. TYDYNGES I bryng 30w for to tell, What me in wyld forest befell, Whan me must with a wyld best mell, With a bor so bryme. A bor so bryme that me pursued, And reft fro hym both lyth and lyme. Truly to shew 30w that is trew, Etys, on much good do yt 30w, And joy all in one. XXI. Care away, away, away, care away for ever more. ALL that I may swynk or swet, My wyfe it wyll both drynk and ete, And I sey ou3t, she wyl me bete; Carful ys my hart therfor. If I sey out of hyr but good, She loke on me as she war wod, And wyll me clouzt about the hod; If she wyll to the gud ale ryd, Me must trot all by hyr syd, And whan she drynk I must abyd; If I say it shal be thus, She sey, Thou lyyst, charll, I wous, If ony man have such a wyfe to lede, He shal know how judicare cam in the cred; Of hys penans God do hym med. Carful, etc. XXII. A, a, a, a, yet I love wher so I go. In all this warld is a meryar life In every place he is loved over all, Among maydyns gret and small; In dauncing, in pypyng, and rennyng at the ball, In every, etc. Thei lat lyzt be husbondmen, Whan thei at the ball rene; Thei cast hyr love to 3ong men, Than sey maydens, Farwell, Jacke, Thou beryst thi love behynd thi back. XXIII. Man, beware and wyse in dede, UNDER a forest that was so long, I ther stod and hoved styll, Asay thi frend or thou hast ned. Me thou3t it was a wonder noyse, I behyld that byrd full long. She bad me do as I the rede; Whether that thou do ryzt or wrong, Asay thi frend or thou hast ned. The byrd sat upon a tre, With fethers gray than was hyr wed; She seyd, and thou wylt do after me, Asay thi frend or thou have ned. |