The Departing Souls Address to the Body | Page 6

of Paradise. bi_nu_men the is that holi lond. Taken from thee is that holy land; then deofle thu bist isold on hond. thou art given into the devil's hand, for noldest thu nefre _habb_en inouh. for thou wouldst never have enough, buten thu hefdest unifouh. 355 unless thou hadst repletion. Nu is that swete al agon. Now is the sweet all gone, thet bittere the bi_th_ fornon. the bitter is near thee, that bittere ilest the efre. that bitter lasteth thee ever, thet gode ne cumeth the nefre. that good cometh to thee never. thus ageth nu th_in sith_. 360 Thus goeth now thy lot, ?fter thin wrecce lif. after thy wicked life. thu wendest that thin ende. Thou thoughtest that thine end nefre ne cuman scolde. should never come. to long * * * lede death the. Too long * * * death thee, that he nolde nimen the. 365 that he would not take thee, for efre thu arerdest sake. for thou ever raised up strife and unseihte * * * and discord, * * * and ic was with innen the. and I was within thee biclused swuthe fule. most foully enclosed; thu were wedlowe. 370 thou wert faithless and mon sware. and perjured, and * * * hund inouh. and * * * enough; for thu were mid sunne. for thou wert with sin ifulled al with inne. filled all within, for the deofle l_ored the al_l. 375 for the devil taught thee all, ord fulneih thine heorte. chief full nigh thy heart. efre thu woldest fullen. Ever thou wouldst fulfil, al that was his wille. all that was his will.
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? * * thu nefre th. 380 * * * * * _drihtenes_ * * * * * * * *
? * * _iwo_ld ahte. * * * * * The [gh]et seith theo soule. Again, saith the soul, soriliche to hire licame. sadly to the body, clene bith the eor_the_. 385 the earth is pure _?r_ thu to hire to cume. e'er thou come to it, ac thu heo afulest. but thou defilest it mid thin fule holde. with thy foul carcase; thet is that fu_lnesse_. only that foulness is afursed from monnen. 390 removed from men; nu thu bist bihuded. now thou art hidden on alre horde fulest. in foulest hoard, on _deope_ seathe. in a deep pit, on durelease huse. in a doorless house. thu scalt rotien. 395 Thou shalt rot and brostnian. and corrupt; thine bon beoth bed?led. thy bones will be separated _from th_?re w?de. from the clothing the heo weren to iwunede. in which they were inhabited; breketh lith from lithe. 400 limb breaks from limb; liggeth the bon stil. the bones lie still, _tha_ ure drihten eft. until our Lord again of deathe heo ar?reth. from death raiseth them, so he alle men deth. as he doth all men, thonne domes daie _cume_th. 405 when doomsday cometh. thonne scalt thu erming. Then shalt thou, miserable! up arisen. up arise, imeten thine morth deden. thy deadly sins measured, theo the murie _were_n. that were so pleasant to thee; seoruhful and sorimod. 410 sorrowful and melancholy, so thin lif wrouhte. the crimes of thy life. nu beoth thine earen fordutte. Now are thine ears closed, _non drea_me ihereth. no pleasant sounds they hear; theo leorneden theo listen. they learned, they listened tha luthere weren. 415 to those that were wicked. [_mid_] wowe domes. With unjust judgments, and gultes _feole_. and many trespasses, _thu_ othre ber?fedest. thou others bereaved rihtes istreones. of rightful wealth, _thurh_ th?s deofles lore, 420 through the devil's lore, theo the likede wel. that thou liked well. the _deofle_ tuhte his hearpe. The _devil_ touched his harp, and tuhte the to him. and enticed thee to him; thu iherdest thene dream. thou heardest the harmony; he was drih_tene f_ulloth. 425 it was hateful to the Lord. he swefede the. He lulled thee mid then sweize. with the sound; swote thu sleptest. sweetly thou sleptest longe on thine bedde. long in thy bed; _n_is the to chirche. 430 nor art thou at church, ne mostes thu iheren. nor canst thou hear theo holie dr?mes. those holy sounds, theo bellen rungen. the bells tolling, _that s_iker becnunge w?s. that a sure beckoning was; ne holie lore. 435 nor holy lore the unker helpe w?re. that should be our help. ac efre he tuhte the. But ever he enticed thee, _andnu_ beo the iwold ahte. and now thou art in his power; ac nu beoth fordutte. eke now are closed thine dream thurles. 440 thy doors of sound, ne ihereth heo _ne_ more. nor hear they more non herunge of the. any praise of thee, ?r theo bemen blowen. until the trumpets blow the unc becnien scu_llen_. which shall summon us _f_rom deathes