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I trustyd no talys that were me tolde,
  Tylle that myn hand dede in his hert blood wade;
My dowte dothe aprevyn Cryst levynge fful bolde,
  And is a grett argument in feyth us to glade.
Thou man that seyst this, ffrom feyth nevyr thou ffade,
  My dowte xal evyr chere the, that sore me avexit;
Truste wele in Cryst that suche meracle hath made,
  Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit!

The prechynge of Petir might not converte me,
  Tylle I felyd the wounde that the spere dyde cleve;
I trustyd nevyr he levyd that deed was on a tre,
  Tylle that his herte blood dede renne in my sleve.
Thus be my grett dowte oure feyth may we preve,
  Behold my blody hand to feyth that me avexit,
Be syght of this myrroure ffrom feyth not remeve,
  Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit!

Thow that Mary Magdalyn in Cryst dede sone beleve,
  And I was longe dowteful, ȝitt putt me in no blame;
ffor be my grett dowte oure ffeyth may we preve,
  Aȝens alle tho eretykys that speke of Cryst shame.
Truste wel Jhesu Cryst, the Jewys kyllyd the same,
  The ffende hath he fferyd oure feyth that evyr avexit;
To hevyn ȝow brynge and save ȝow alle in same,
  That mortuus et sepultus iterum resurrexit! Amen.