M.

Moses, that saw the bush of flames red Burning, of which then never a stick brenn’d,* *burned Was sign of thine unwemmed* maidenhead. *unblemished Thou art the bush, on which there gan descend The Holy Ghost, the which that Moses wend* *weened, supposed Had been on fire; and this was in figure. <5> Now, Lady! from the fire us do defend, Which that in hell eternally shall dure.

N.

Noble Princess! that never haddest peer; Certes if any comfort in us be, That cometh of thee, Christe’s mother dear! We have none other melody nor glee,* *pleasure Us to rejoice in our adversity; Nor advocate, that will and dare so pray For us, and for as little hire as ye, That helpe for an Ave-Mary or tway.

O.

O very light of eyen that be blind! O very lust* of labour and distress! *relief, pleasure O treasurer of bounty to mankind! The whom God chose to mother for humbless! From his ancill* <6> he made thee mistress *handmaid Of heav’n and earth, our *billes up to bede;* *offer up our petitions* This world awaiteth ever on thy goodness; For thou ne failedst never wight at need.

P.

Purpose I have sometime for to enquere Wherefore and why the Holy Ghost thee sought, When Gabrielis voice came to thine ear; He not to war* us such a wonder wrought, *afflict But for to save us, that sithens us bought: Then needeth us no weapon us to save, But only, where we did not as we ought, Do penitence, and mercy ask and have.

Q.

Queen of comfort, right when I me bethink That I aguilt* have bothe Him and thee, *offended And that my soul is worthy for to sink, Alas! I, caitiff, whither shall I flee? Who shall unto thy Son my meane* be? *medium of approach Who, but thyself, that art of pity well?* *fountain Thou hast more ruth on our adversity Than in this world might any tongue tell!

R.

Redress me, Mother, and eke me chastise! For certainly my Father’s chastising I dare not abiden in no wise, So hideous is his full reckoning. Mother! of whom our joy began to spring, Be ye my judge, and eke my soule’s leach;* *physician For ay in you is pity abounding To each that will of pity you beseech.

S.

Sooth is it that He granteth no pity Withoute thee; for God of his goodness Forgiveth none, *but it like unto thee;* *unless it please He hath thee made vicar and mistress thee* Of all this world, and eke governess Of heaven; and represseth his justice After* thy will; and therefore in witness *according to He hath thee crowned in so royal wise.

T.

Temple devout! where God chose his wonning,* *abode From which, these misbeliev’d deprived be, To you my soule penitent I bring; Receive me, for I can no farther flee. With thornes venomous, O Heaven’s Queen! For which the earth accursed was full yore, I am so wounded, as ye may well see, That I am lost almost, it smart so sore!