|
Hail, virgin of virgins, mother of the Father Hail, light of lights, ray of brightness Hail, lily of the valley, drop of the true dew Our hope is in you. Hail, royal virgin, portal of salvation Not knowing any real man, because it is God That you bring into the world Hail, because you are fruitful with the divine offspring Our hope is in you. Hail, goal of our hope and salvation Hail to you, through whom the guilty and saved rejoice Hail, ornament of beauty and wholesomeness Our hope is in you.
I. Sainte Marie viergene St. Mary the virgin, mother of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, receive, shield, help your Godric; when received, bring him honorably with you into God's kingdom. St. Mary, Christ's bed-chamber (virginal purity, flower of mothers), blot out my sin, rule in my spirit, bring me to bliss with the true God. II. Crist and Sainte Marie Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy. Christ and St. Mary thus brought me to the altar table, so that I should not tread on this earth with my bare feet. III. Sainte Nicholas, Godes druth St. Nicholas, God's darling, graciously prepare for us beautiful dwellings. By the merits of your birth, by the merits of your bier, St. Nicholas, bring us safely there.
Worldly bliss does not last for a moment; it goes and passes away presently. The longer I know it, the less value I find in it, for it is all mingled with care, with sorrows and ill success. And at the last, it leaves man poor and naked when it departs. All the bliss which is here and there, amounts in the end to weeping and grief. All the bliss of this life, man, you shall bring to an end in weeping, (those) of house and home, of child and wife. Oh miserable man, take heed of this! For you shall leave here all the property of which you were lord. When you lie, man, on the bier, and sleep that very dreadful sleep, you will have no companion with you but your piled-up deeds. Man, why do you set mind and heart in worldly bliss that does not last? Why do you allow that you should so often grieve for things that are transitory? You lick honey from a thorn, indeed, who set your love on worldly bliss, for it is full of bitterness. You may well be greatly terrified who mis-spend wealth here, thereby to be cast into hell. No good deed will be unrequited, and no evil deed will not be paid for. When you lie man, under the earth, you will get what you have earned. Consider well, therefore, I advise you, and cleanse yourself of each misdeed, so that He may help you in your need, who has so dearly redeemed you, and may lead you to the bliss of heaven, which ever lasts and does not fail. 8. Sancta mater gracie / Dou way, Robin Duplum Holy mother of grace, star of brightness, visit us today, full of compassion. Come soon, channel of pardon, to those in prison, as a solace of misery, a source of sweetness. Remember, mother of Christ, how bitterly you did weep, you did stand beside the cross sighing at the sad site. Oh Mary, royal flower, among all women nonesuch, in your son unequalled, forgive the sins of our flesh. Oh with how humble a heart you did speak when you did receive the words of Gabriel the messenger. "Behold the handmaid of the lord," you quickly said; thereafter, you bore the spring-time of living joy. Rejoice worthy lady, so gracious, in the throne of heaven. Restore your children, brought low by vice, to the Son. Tenore Stop it Robin, the child will weep; stop it Robin.
Bird on a briar, bright bird on a tree, Nature has come to beg for love from (the god of) Love, "Gracious lady, on me, on me have pity, or prepare, beloved, prepare for me my grave." I am happy as a bright bird on a briar when I see that gracious one, most gracious in hall. She is white of limb, of limb and face. She is fair, and the flower, the flower of all. If I could have her, have her at will, steadfast in love, lovely, true (from my sorrow, she can, she can cure me), joy and bliss would be ever, be ever renewed.
Merry it is while summer lasts, with the song of birds, but now draws near the wind's blast and harsh weather. Alas, alas! How long this night is! And I, most unjustly, sorrow and mourn and fast.
You are fair and noble, and full of gentleness
Though Judas found Jesus, then kissed him
On the place as you stood, virgin, quite sorrowful
His sides were wounded, the blood ran from him
Though Pilate heard the news, he was a happy nobleman
A maid slept in the moor for fully a week and a day. Well was her food. Well, what was her food? The primrose and the violet. Well was her drink. Well, what was her drink? The cold water of the well-spring. Well was her bed. Well, what was her bed? The red rose and the lily flower.
With longing I am afflicted
Lady of all the land
Lady with all my might
Lily-white she is
When my eyes become dim
|