Page:Ludus Coventriae (1841).djvu/367

Now am I here with brest ful bolde,
            Therfore no more ȝe wepe.

Maria. Welcom, my Lord! welcom, my grace!
Welcome, my sone, and my solace!
I xal the wurchep in every place, —
            Welcom, Lord God of myght!
Mekel sorwe in hert I leed,
Whan thou were leyd in dethis beed,
But now my blysse is newly breed,—
            Alle men may joye this syght.

Jhesus. Alle this werlde that was forlorn,
Shal wurchepe ȝou bothe evyn and morn,
ffor had I not of ȝow be born,
            Man had be lost in helle.
I was deed, and lyff I have,
And thorwe my dethe man do I save,
ffor now I am resyn out of my grave,
            In hevyn man xal now dwelle.

Maria. A, dere sone! these wurdys ben goode,
Thou hast wel comfortyd my mornyng moode
Blyssyd be thi precyous bloode,
            That mankende thus doth save!
Jhesus. Now, dere modyr, my leve I take;
Joye in hert and myrthe ȝe make,
ffor dethe is deed and lyff dothe wake,
            Now I am resyn fro my grave!

Maria. ffarewel, my sone! farewel, my childe!
ffarewel, my Lorde! my God so mylde!
Myn hert is wele that ffyrst was whylde;
            ffarewel, myn owyn dere love!