Ïðî÷èòàíèé :  130
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Ane Prayer for the Pest
O eterne God of power infinyt,
To Quhois hie knawledge na think is obscure-
That is, or wes, or sal be, is perfyt
Into Thi sicht, quhill that this warld indure-
Haif mercy of us, indigent and peure;
Thow dois no wrang to punis our offens:
O lord, That is to mankynd haill succure,
Preserve us fra this perrelus pestilens!
We The beseik, O lord of lordis all,
Thy eiris inclyne and heir our grit regrait:
We ask remeid of The in generall,
That is of help and confort dissolait:
Bot Thow with rewth our hairtis recreate,
We ar bot deid, but only Thy clemens:
We The exhort on kneis law prostrait,
Preserve us from this perrellus pestilens!
We ar rycht glaid Thow punis our trespas
Be ony kynd of udir tribulatioun:
Wer it Thy will, O lord of hevin, allais,
That we suld thus be haistely put doun
And de as beistis without confessioun,
That nane dar mak with udir residens?
O blissit Jesu, that wore the thorny croun,
Preserve us frome this perrelus pestilens!
Use derth, O lord, or seiknes and hungir soir,
And slak Thy plaig that is so penetryfe:
Thy pepill ar preist - quha may remeid thairfoir,
Bot Thow, O lord, that for thame lost Thy lyfe?
Suppois our syne be to The pungetyfe,
Our deid ma na thing our synnis recompens;
Haif mercy, Lord, we may nocht with The stryfe;
Preserve us fra this perrelus pestilens!
Haif mercy, Lord; haif mercy, Hevyns King;
Haif mercy of Thy pepill penitent;
Haif mercy of our petous punissing;
Retreit the sentence and Thy just jugement
Aganis us synnaris that servis to be schent;
Without mercy we may mak no defens;
Thow that but rewth upoun the Rud wes rent,
Preserve us frome this perrellus pestilens!
Remembir, Lord, how deir Thow hes us bocht,
That for us synnaris sched Thy pretius blude;
Now to redeme that Thow hes maid of nocht,
That is of virtew barrane and denude,
Haif rewth, Lord, of Thyne awin similitude,
Punis with pety and nocht with violens;
We knaw it is for our ingratitude
That we ar puneist with this pestillens.
Thow grant us grace for till amend our mis
And till evaid this crewall suddane deid;
We knaw our sin is all the caus of this;
For opin sin thair is set no remeid;
The justice of God mon punis than be deid,
For by the law he will with nane dispens;
Quhair justice laikis thair is eternall feid
Of God, that suld preserf fra pestilens.
Bot wald the heidismen, that suld keip the law,
Punis the peple for thair transgressioun,
Thair wald na deid the peple than ourthraw;
Bot thay ar gevin sa plenly to oppressioun
That God will nocht heir thair intecessioun,
Bot all ar punist for thair inobediens
Be swerd or deid, withouttin remissioun,
And hes just caus to send us pestilens.
Superne Lucerne, guberne this pestilens,
Preserve and serve that we nocht sterf thairin,
Declyne that pyne be Thy devyne prudens,
For trewth, haif rewth, lat nocht our slewth us twyn;
Our syte, full tyte, wer we contryt, wald blin;
Dissivir did nevir, quha evir The besocht.
Send grace, with space, for to arrace fra sin;
Lat nocht be tint that Thow sa deir hes bocht!
O Prince preclair, this cair quotidiane,
We The exort, distort it in exyle;
Bot Thow remeid, this deid is bot ane trane
For to dissaif the laif and thame begyle.
Bot Thow, sa wyse, devyse to mend this byle,
Of this mischeif quha may releif us ocht
For wrangus win, bot Thow our sin oursyle?
Lat nocht be tint that Thow sa deir hes bocht!
Sen for our vice, that justice mon correct,
O king most hie, now pacifé thy feid;
Our sin is huge, refuge we nocht suspect;
As Thow art juge, dislug us of this dreid,
In tyme assent, or we be schent with deid,
For we repent all tyme mispent forthocht;
Thairfoir, evirmor, be gloir to Thy Godheid;
Lat nocht be tint that Thow sa deir hes bocht!
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