For he, that with his thousand cordes slye
Continuelly us waiteth to biclappe,
Whan he may man in ydelnesse espye, 10
He can so lightly cacche him in his trappe,
Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,
He nis nat war the feend hath him in honde;
Wel oughte us werche, and ydelnes withstonde.
And though men dradden never for to dye, 15
Yet seen men wel by reson doutelees,
That ydelnesse is roten slogardye,
Of which ther never comth no good encrees;
And seen, that slouthe hir holdeth in a lees
Only to slepe, and for to ete and drinke, 20
And to devouren al that othere swinke.
17. E. Hn. Pt. Ln. Hl. roten; Cm. rote. 18. E. Hn. no good nencrees;
Pt. Ln. non encrese; Hl. good encres; Cm. encrees. 19. Cm. hire; Pt.
hure; Hn. Ln. hir; E. it; Hl. her.
[510: T. 15490-15520.]
And for to putte us fro swich ydelnesse,
That cause is of so greet confusioun,
I have heer doon my feithful bisinesse,
After the legende, in translacioun 25
Right of thy glorious lyf and passioun,
Thou with thy gerland wroght of rose and lilie;
Thee mene I, mayde and martir, seint Cecilie!
27. Hn. Pt. of; E. Cm. Ln. Hl. with. 28. Hn. Cm. Pt. Ln. martir
seinte (seint); Hl. martir; E. mooder.
_Inuocacio ad Mariam._
And thou that flour of virgines art alle,
Of whom that Bernard list so wel to wryte, 30
To thee at my biginning first I calle;
Thou comfort of us wrecches, do me endyte
Thy maydens deeth, that wan thurgh hir meryte
The eternal lyf, and of the feend victorie,
As man may after reden in hir storie. 35
32. Hn. mendite (_shewing the scansion_). 34. E. eterneel; Hn. Cm.
eternal.
Thou mayde and mooder, doghter of thy sone,
Thou welle of mercy, sinful soules cure,
In whom that god, for bountee, chees to wone,
Thou humble, and heigh over every creature,
Thou nobledest so ferforth our nature, 40
That no desdeyn the maker hadde of kinde,
His sone in blode and flesh to clothe and winde.
Withinne the cloistre blisful of thy sydes
Took mannes shap the eternal love and pees,
That of the tryne compas lord and gyde is, 45
Whom erthe and see and heven, out of relees,
Ay herien; and thou, virgin wemmelees,
Bar of thy body, and dweltest mayden pure,
The creatour of every creature.