_lashed._ All for man he tholed shame, _endured._ Withouten guilt, withouten blame, Bothe day and other[8].
Man, full muchel he loved thee, _much._ When he wolde make thee free, And become thy brother.
The simplicity, the tenderness, the devotion of these lyrics is to me wonderful.

Observe their realism, as, for instance, in the words: "The stones beoth al wete;" a realism as far removed from the coarseness of a Rubens as from the irreverence of too many religious teachers, who will repeat and repeat again the most sacred words for the merest logical ends until the tympanum of the moral ear hears without hearing the sounds that ought to be felt as well as held holiest.

They bear strongly, too, upon the outcome of feeling in action, although doubtless there was the same tendency then as there is now to regard the observance of church-ordinances as the service of Christ, instead of as a means of gathering strength wherewith to serve him by being in the world as he was in the world.
From a poem of forty-eight stanzas I choose five, partly in order to manifest that, although there is in it an occasional appearance of what we should consider sentimentality, allied in nature to that worship of the Virgin which is more a sort of French gallantry than a feeling of reverence, the sense of duty to the Master keeps pace with the profession of devotedness to him.

There is so little continuity of thought in it, that the stanzas might almost be arranged anyhow.
Jesu, thy love be all my thought; Of other thing ne reck I nought; _reckon._ I yearn to have thy will y-wrought, For thou me hast well dear y-bought.
Jesu, well may mine hearte see That mild and meek he must be, All unthews and lustes flee, _bad habits._ That feelen will the bliss of thee.

_feel._ For sinful folk, sweet Jesus, Thou lightest from the high house; Poor and low thou wert for us.
Thine heart's love thou sendest us.
Jesu, therefore beseech I thee Thy sweet love thou grant me; That I thereto worthy be, Make me worthy that art so free.