Lade, helpe. Jhesu, merce.
Timor mortis conturbat me.
Dred of deth, sorrow of syn
Trobils my hert full greuysly.
My soule hit nyth with my lust then.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Fore blyndnes is a heue thyng
And to be def therwith only,
To lese my lyght and my heryng.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
And to lese my tast and my smellyng
And to be seke in my body:
Here haue I lost al my lykyng.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Thus God he yeues and takys away
And as he wil so mot hit be.
His name be blessid both nyght and daye.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Here is a cause of gret mornyng:
Of myselfe nothyng I se
Saue filth, vnclennes, vile stynkyng.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Into this world no more I broght,
No more I gete with me trewly
Saue good ded, word, wil and thoght.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
The v wondis of Jhesu Crist
My midsyne now mot thai be
The fyndis pouere downe to cast.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
As I lay seke in my langure
With sorow of hert and teere of ye,
This caral I made with gret doloure.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Oft with these prayere I me blest,
‘In manus tuas, Domine;
Thou take my soule into thi rest.’
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Mare moder, merceful may,
Fore the joys thou hadist, lady,
To thi sun fore me thou pray.
Passio Cristi conforta me.
Lerne this lesson of blynd Awdlay:
When bale is hyest then bot may be.
Yif thou be nyd nyght or day,
Say, ‘Passio Cristi conforta me.’
(John Awdelay)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Body PoemsBased on Keywords: ded, nyght, therwith, lyght, thai, dred, syn, crist, thyng, sorow, moder