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XV

'Thys Jerusalem Lombe hade never pechche
Of other huee bot quyt jolyf,
That mot ne masklle moght on streche,
For wolle quyte so ronk and ryf.
Forthy uche saule that hade never teche
Is to that Lombe a worthyly wyf;
And thagh uch day a store he feche,
Among uus commes nouther strot ne stryf,
Bot uchon enle we wolde were fyf-
The mo the myryer, so God me blesse,
In compayny gret our luf con thryf
In honour more and never the lesse.

'Lasse of blysse may non uus bryng
That beren thys perle upon oure bereste,
For thay of mote couthe never mynge
Of spotles perles that beren the creste.
Althagh oure corses in clottes clynge,
And ye remen for rauthe wythouten reste,
We thurghoutly haven cnawyng;
Of on dethe ful oure hope is drest.
The Lombe uus glades, oure care is kest;
He myrthes uus alle at uch a mes.
Uchones blysse is breme and beste,
And never ones honour yet never the les.







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XV

This Jerusalem Lamb had not a grain
Of colour, save a dazzling white;
No spot on it could spread again
For it was thick and fleecy quite.
And every soul without a stain
Is to that Lamb a wife by right.
He brings each day more to the train
But no strife can our union blight;
If each were five, 'twould bring delight.
The more the merner, if God bless.
In harmony love thrives aright,
In honour more and never less.

To us, our joy comes all unsought,
Who bear this pearl upon the breast.
To quarrelling we give no thought
Who bear of spotless pearls the best.
And though each one to clay was brought
And you in grief cry out for rest,
We know full well that we have bought
Our hope with one sharp death's arrest,
The Lamb from us all care can wrest,
Each mass brings joy none can express.
In heavenly joy are we each dressed
Yet no one's honour is the less.



This Jerusalem Lamb never had a speck of any colour but shining white on which neither spot nor stain could spread, for the white fleece was so thick and plentiful. And so each soul which bears no stain is to that Lamb an honoured wife; and, though each day he brings in a large number, among us comes neither dispute nor strife, but each single one wishes she were five - the more the merrier, so God blesses me. In this company great our love can thrive, in honour more and never less.

Less joy cannot come to us who bear this pearl upon the breast, for we never think of quarrelling who bear the crown of spotless pearls. Although our corpses rot in the earth and you cry out constantly in your grief, we have perfect understanding; from a single death springs our hope. The Lamb gladdens us, removes our cares; he delights us all at every Mass. Each one's joy is glorious and best, and never is anyone's honour the less.

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