Sythen thou woldyst no man were lost,
Have mercy on me, for I am seke.
Helě me, for my bonys are brost,
And rewe on alle that will be meke.

Thi pyté, Lord, encrese and eke,
To alle that wille repentaunt be,

And wille with sorweful hertě seke,

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

IX.

Et anima mea turbata est valde: tu, Domine, usquequo?

My soule begynneth to tremble and qwake!
How longe schal it with dreed be schent?

Late nozt thyn ymage be forsake,

Made with so good avysement.

Sythe man was made be full assent

Of the blyssed Trinité;

Thow; he do mys, and after repent,

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

X.

Convertere, Domine, et eripe animam meam: salvum me fac propter misericordiam tuam. Turne thé, Lord, and tarye nowzt,

Thin owen lyknes to helpe and save.
Delyvere hem alle that thou hast bought,

And graunte hem mercy that will it crave.
Thynke, thou madyst bothe kyng and knave:
Therfore of mercy be so fre,

That no man wante, that wille it have.

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XI.

Quoniam non est in morte qui memor sit tui: in

inferno autem quis confitebitur tibi?

Whan man is seek, and nedys muste dye,

(As every man schal do be kynde,)
After mercy he kan no3t crye,

For sykenes revyth hym his mynde.
Therfore, I rede, be nozt be hynde,
Whil mercy is in gret plenté:

For in helle my3t neverě man fynde
'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XII.

Laboravi in gemitu meo: lavabo per singulas noctes lectum meum: lacrimis meis stratum meum rigabo.

My travayle is, bothe nyght and day,

To wepe and weyle for my synne:
With bittere terys I schal asay
To wassche the bed that I lye inne.
Whoso evere hevene will wynne,
In endeles blysse evere more to be,
This vers he mustě ofte begynne,
'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XIII.

Turbatus est a furore oculus meus: inveteravi

inter omnes inimicos meos.

Myn eyin ben wexin al derke for drede;

My wickednes is drawyn on elde;

My soule is wrappyd in wofull wede,

For synne I have forsake ful selde.

Lord! fro sorwe and schame me schelde!

Myn helpe, myn hele, it lythe in thé !
Therfore I crye, in town and felde,

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine!'

XIV.

Discedite a me omnes qui operamini iniquitatem: quoniam exaudivit Dominus vocem fletus mei. Whan thou schalt deme bothe grete and smale, That day we nedys muste abyde.

Fro Iosaphath, that gret vale,

There is no man that may hym hyde.
Thanne sette me, Lord, on thi ryzt syde,

And cursede wretchys departe fro me.
Wepyng I preye, azens that tyde,

Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XV.

Exaudivit Dominus deprecacionem meam: Dominus oracionem meam suscepit.

Whanne gode and ille here mede schal take,

As they ben worthi wo or wele,
Late me nozt thanně be forsake;
Sythe I have lefte my synnes fele.
Suffere no feend me thanne apele,
Whanne the laste judgěment schal be.
Late me be syker, whil I have hele,
Of Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XVI.

Erubescant et conturbentur vehementer omnes ini

mici mei: convertantur et erubescant valde velociter.

Whanne thei, that lyven azens thi lawe,
Schul be schent with open schame,
To thy mercy I wille me drawe,
And kepe my soulě oute of blame.

Thi mercy, Lord, I muste ataine,
Whan

myn enmyes dampnyd schul be:
For evere I crye, and seye the same,

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XVII.

BEATI quorum remisse sunt iniquitates; et

quorum tecta sunt peccata.

They may be syker of hevene blys,
That han forgevenes of here synne.
Thi mercy hydeth that is amys,

Of wickede werkys 3yf thei will blynne.
Whan body and soule departe atwynne,
All worldys frenschippe awey will fle:

Thou getyst non helpe, of sybbe nor kynne,

Beatus vir, cui non imputavit Dominus peccatum ;

nec est in spiritus ejus dolus.

Zyf God, that made all thyng of nouzt,

Of no synně may thé apeche,

In dedě doon, or hertě thouzt,
Ne gyle ne falsnes in my speche;
Thanne, 3if it be as clerkys teche,
Of endeles blysse I dowte no3t me.
Zyf I be seek, this is my leche,
'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XIX.

Quoniam tacui, inveteraverunt ossa mea; dum clamarem tota die.

My medefull werkys, that ben ful fewe,
Zyf I go telle hem every where;

My synne[s], that I in schryfte schulde schewe,
I kepe hem clos for schame or fere ;—
Thanne waxe thei olde, and done me dere;
I rote as dooth a bowe on tre.

Therfore, er I be leyd on bere,

'Ne reminiscaris, Domine !'

XX.

Quoniam die ac nocte graviter est super me manus tua: conversus sum in erumpna mea, dum configitur spina.

The hand of vengeaunce, more and more,

Is up on me bothe day and nyst;

The prycke of conscyence grevyth me sore,
As often as I do unryzt :

But mercy, Lord! as thou hast hyzt
To alle tho that wyl turne un to thé.

I kan no socour in thys ply3t,

Delictum meum cognitum tibi feci: et injusticiam meam non abscondi.

My trespas and myn unryztwysnesse
I knowleche, and my synnes fele.
Thow; I wolde hyde my wickydnesse,
My conscyence willě me apele.