UPON AN AUNGELLE MY PRAYER IS LENTE

     

 

My chyld cryes for medycyn

As scourges hynge on all hys kynn

 

Hys herte of lyfe ys for drede

As I also laye on dethes bed

 

        To hym I make my herte steadfast

Both on erthe and in heuene vast

 

And on my ded beloved be my thoht anon

She was my smyle nyght and daye

The fayrest mayden that by my soule dyd laye

 

Now sinne on our flesshe hath richly fed

Sek and peynyng hangid so redde

 

Upon this aungelle my prayer ys lente

Bow I to thys lady bright,

Amen Trynyte for her heuene lyght

 

Dethes swete scent makes grate haste

Smell I encens, heuene erbe I taste

 

By me she kneeleth and calm is brought

O! By her grayce I suffer naught

 

Aungelle, if that you leste, be with my sone

After Gabriel from Paradyse for mi com

 

I se the mone and dethe I crayve.

Wyth meekness to the aungelle I praye

 

And wynne heuene blysse.

Amen.

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