England's Antiphon

"Son, what shall me to rede?[2 - For the grammatical interpretation of this line, I am indebted to Mr. Richard Morris. Shall is here used, as it often is, in the sense of must, and rede is a noun; the paraphrase of the whole being, "Son, what must be to me for counsel?" "What counsel must I follow?"]
My pain paineth me to dede: death.
Let me die thee before!"

"Mother, thou rue all of thy bairn; rue thou; all is only expletive
Thou wash away the bloody tern; wash thou; tears.
It doth me worse than my ded." hurts me more; death.
"Son, how may I terés werne? turn aside tears.
I see the bloody streamés erne flow.
From thy heart to my fet." feet.

"Mother, now I may thee seye, say to thee.
Better is that I one deye die.
Than all mankind to hellé go."
"Son, I see thy body byswongen, lashed.
Feet and hands throughout stongen: pierced through and through.
No wonder though me be woe." woe be to me.

"Mother, now I shall thee tell,
If I not die, thou goest to hell:
I thole death for thy sake." endure.
"Son, thou art so meek and mynde, thoughtful.
Ne wyt me not, it is my kind[3 - "Do not blame me, it is my nature."]
That I for thee this sorrow make."

"Mother, now thou mayst well leren learn.
What sorrow have that children beren, they have; bear.
What sorrow it is with childé gon." to go.
"Sorrow, I wis! I can thee tell!
But it be the pain of hell except.
More sorrow wot I none."

"Mother, rue of mother-care, take pity upon.
For now thou wost of mother-fare, knowest.
Though thou be clean maiden mon."[4 - Mon is used for man or woman: human being. It is so used in Lancashire still: they say mon to a woman.]
"Soné, help at alle need
Allé those that to me grede, cry.
Maiden, wife, and full wymmon." woman with child.

"Mother, may I no longer dwell;
The time is come I shall to hell;
The third day I rise upon."
"Son, I will with thee founden; set out, go.
I die, I wis, for thy wounden:
So sorrowful death nes never none." was not never none.

When he rose, then fell her sorrow;
Her bliss sprung the third morrow:
Blithe mother wert thou tho! then.
Lady, for that ilké bliss, same.
Beseech thy son of sunnés lisse: for sin's release.
Thou be our shield against our foe. Be thou.

Blessed be thou, full of bliss!
Let us never heaven miss,
Through thy sweeté Sonés might!
Loverd, for that ilké blood, Lord,
That thou sheddest on the rood,
Thou bring us into heaven's light. AMEN.

I think my readers will not be sorry to have another of a similar character.

I sigh when I sing
For sorrow that I see,
When I with weeping
Behold upon the tree,

And see Jesus the sweet
His heart's blood for-lete yield quite.
For the love of me.
His woundés waxen wete, wet.
They weepen still and mete:[5 - "They weep quietly and becomingly." I think there must be in this word something of the sense of gently,-uncomplainingly.]
Mary rueth thee. pitieth.

High upon a down, hill.
Where all folk it see may,
A mile from each town,
About the mid-day,
The rood is up arearéd;
His friendés are afearéd,
And clingeth so the clay;[6 - "And are shrunken (clung with fear) like the clay." So here is the same as as. For this interpretation I am indebted to Mr. Morris.]
The rood stands in stone,
Mary stands her on,
And saith Welaway!

When I thee behold
With eyen brighté bo, eyes bright both.
And thy body cold—
Thy ble waxeth blo, colour: livid.
Thou hangest all of blood bloody.
So high upon the rood
Between thieves tuo— two.
Who may sigh more?
Mary weepeth sore,
And sees all this woe.

The nails be too strong,
The smiths are too sly; skilful.
Thou bleedest all too long;
The tree is all too high;