may renew both bower and hall:No better counsel I ne kan am capable of.
But alway thank God for all.
Think on Job that was so rich;
He waxed poor from day to day;
His beastés died in each ditch;
His cattle vanished all away;
He was put in poor array,
Neither in purple nor in pall,
But in simple weed, as clerkes say, clothes: learned men.
And alway he thanked God for all.
For Christés love so do we;44
He may both give and take;
In what mischief that we in be, whatever trouble we
He is mighty enough our sorrow to slake. [be in.
Full good amends he will us make,
And we to him cry or call: if.
What grief or woe that do thee thrall,45
Yet alway thank God for all.
Though thou be in prison cast,
Or any distress men do thee bede, offer.
For Christés love yet be steadfast,
And ever have mind on thy creed;
Think he faileth us never at need,
The dearworth duke that deem us shall;46
When thou art sorry, thereof take heed,47
And alway thank God for all.
Though thy friendes from thee fail,
And death by rene hend48 their life,
Why shouldest thou then weep or wail?
It is nought against God to strive: it is useless.
Himself maked both man and wife—
To his bliss he bring us all: may he bring.
However thou thole or thrive, suffer.
Alway thank God for all.
What diverse sonde49 that God thee send,
Here or in any other place,
Take it with good intent;
The sooner God will send his grace.
Though thy body be brought full base, low.
Let not thy heart adown fall,
But think that God is where he was,
And alway thank God for all.
Though thy neighbour have world at will,
And thou far'st not so well as he,
Be not so mad to think him ill, wish. (?)
For his wealth envious to be:
The king of heaven himself can see
Who takes his sonde,50 great or small;
Thus each man in his degree,
I rede thanké God for all. counsel.
For Cristés love, be not so wild,
But rule thee by reason within and without;
And take in good heart and mind
The sonde that God sent all about; the gospel. (?)
Then dare I say withouten doubt,
That in heaven is made thy stall. place, seat, room.
Rich and poor that low will lowte, bow.
Alway thank God for all.
I cannot say there is much poetry in this, but there is much truth and wisdom. There is the finest poetry, however, too, in the line—I give it now letter for letter:—
But think that God ys ther he was.
There is poetry too in the line, if I interpret it rightly as intending the gospel—
The sonde that God sent al abowte.
I shall now make a few extracts from poems of the same century whose authors are unknown.51 A good many such are extant. With regard to the similarity of those I choose, I would remark, that not only will the poems of the same period necessarily resemble each other, but, where the preservation of any has depended upon the choice and transcription of one person, these will in all probability resemble each other yet more. Here are a few verses from a hymn headed The Sweetness of Jesus:—
If I for kindness should love my kin, for natural reasons.
Then me thinketh in my thought [Kind is nature,
By kindly skill I should begin by natural judgment.
At him that hath me made of nought;
His likeness he set my soul within,
And all this world for me hath wrought;
As father he fondid my love to win, set about.
For to heaven he hath me brought.
Our brother and sister he is by skill, reason.
For he so said, and lerid us that lore, taught.
That whoso wrought his Father's will,
Brethren and sisters to him they wore. were.
My kind also he took ther-tille; my nature also he took
Full truly trust I him therefore [for that purpose.
That he will never let me spill, perish.
But with his mercy salve my sore.
With lovely lore his works to fill, fulfil.
Well ought I, wretch, if I were kind— natural.
Night and day to work his will,
And ever have that Lord in mind.
But ghostly foes grieve me ill, spiritual.
And my frail flesh maketh me blind;
Therefore his mercy I take me till, betake me to.
For better bote can I none find. aid.
In my choice of stanzas I have to keep in view some measure of completeness in the result. These poems, however, are mostly very loose in structure. This, while it renders choice easy, renders closeness of unity impossible.
From a poem headed—again from the last line of each stanza—Be my comfort, Christ Jesus, I choose the following four, each possessing some remarkable flavour, tone, or single touch. Note the alliteration in the lovely line, beginning "Bairn y-born." The whole of the stanza in which
"For Christ's love let us do the same."
"Whatever grief or woe enslaves thee." But thrall is a blunder, for the word ought to have rhymed with make.
"The precious leader that shall judge us."
"When thou art in sorry plight, think of this."
"And death, beyond renewal, lay hold upon their life."
Sending, message: "whatever varying decree God sends thee."
"Receives his message;" "accepts his will."
Recently published by the Early English Text Society. S.L. IV.
