The Prioress' Tale
Folio 165v
6 of 6 folios
This welle of mercy cristes moder swete
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I loued alwey as aftyr my connynge
And whan that I my lif shul lete
To me she cam and bade me for to synge
This anteme verryly in my dyinge
As ye han herd and whan that I had songe
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Me thought she leyde a greyn vnder my tonge
Wherfore I synge and synge mote certeyne
In honour of that blisful Maiden fre
Til fro my tonge of taken is the greyne
And aftyr that thus seide she to me
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Mi litel child now wol I fecche the
Whan that the greyn is fro the tonge I take
Be noght agast I wol the noght forsake
This holy monk this Abbot him mene .I.
His tonge out caught and cast awey the greyne
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And he yaf vp the gost ful softely
And whan the Abbot hath this wondre seyne
His salt teres striken doun as reyne
And groue he fel as plat to the grounde
And stille he lay as he had ben I bounde
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The Couent ek lay vpon the pauement
Wepyng and herying cristes moder dere
And aftyr that thei rise and forth thei went
And took awey this Martyr fro the bere
And in a tombe of Marbil stones clere
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Enclose thei this litel body swete
Ther he is now god leue vs for to mete
O yonge Hugh of lyncoƚn I slayn also
With cursid Iewes as it is notable
For it is but a litel while ago
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Preye ek for vs we synful folk vnstable
That of his Mercy god so mercyable
On vs his gret mercy multiplie
For reuerence of his moder marye