Sainte Marye Virgine, Moder Jesu Christes Nazarene, Onfo, schild, help thin Godric, Onfang, bring heylich with thee in Godes Riche. Sainte Marye, Christes bur Maidenes clenhad, moderes flur, Dilie min sinne, rix in min mod, Bring me to winne with the self God.
Sacred and Profane: Eight Medieval Lyrics
by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976)
1. St Godric's Hymn  [sung text checked 1 time]
2. I mon waxe wod  [sung text checked 1 time]
Foweles in the frith, The fisses in the flod, And I mon waxe wod; Mulch sorw I walke with For beste of bon and blod.
3. Lenten is come  [sung text checked 1 time]
Lenten is come with love to toune, With blosmen and with briddes roune, That all this blisse bringeth. Dayeseyes in this dales, Notes swete of nightegales, Uch fowl song singeth. The threstelcok him threteth oo. Away is huere winter wo When woderofe springeth. This fowles singeth ferly fele, And wliteth on huere wynne wele, That all the wode ringeth. The rose raileth hire rode, The leves on the lighte wode Waxen all with wille. The mone mandeth hire ble, The lilye is lossom to se, The fennel and the fille. Wowes this wilde drakes, Miles murgeth huere makes, Ase strem that striketh stille. Mody meneth, so doth mo; Ichot ich am on of tho For love that likes ille. The mone mandeth hire light, So doth the semly sonne bright, When briddes singeth breme. Deawes donketh the dounes, Deores with huere derne rounes Domes for to deme. Wormes woweth under cloude, Wimmen waxeth wounder proude, So well it wol hem seme. Yef me shall wonte wille of on, This wunne wele I wole forgon, And wiht in wode be fleme.
4. The long night  [sung text checked 1 time]
Mirie it is, while summer ilast, With fugheles song. Oc nu necheth windes blast And weder strong Ey! ey! what this night is long! And ich, with well michel wrong, Soregh and murne and fast.
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- IRI Irish (Gaelic) [singable] (Gabriel Rosenstock) , "Meidhreach atá", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
5. Yif ic of luve can  [sung text checked 1 time]
Whanne ic se on Rode Jesu, my lemman, And besiden him stonden Marye and Johan, And his rig iswongen, And his side istungen, For the luve of man: Well ou ic to wepen, And sinnes for to leten, Yif ic of luve can.
6. Carol  [sung text checked 1 time]
Maiden in the mor lay, In the mor lay; Sevenight fulle, Sevenight fulle, Maiden in the mor lay; In the mor lay, Sevenightes fulle and a day. Welle was hire mete. What was hire mete? The primerole and the – The primerole and the – Welle was hire mete. What was hire mete? The primerole and the violet. Welle was hire dring. What was hire dring? The chelde water of the – The chelde water of the – Welle was hire dring. What was hire dring? The chelde water of the welle-spring. Welle was hire bowr. What was hire bowr? The rede rose and the – The rede rose and the – Welle was hire bowr. What was hire bowr? The rede rose and the lilye flour.
7. Ye that pasen by  [sung text checked 1 time]
Ye that pasen by the weiye, Abidet a little stounde. Beholdet, all my felawes, Yef any me lik is founde. To the Tre with nailes thre Wol fast I hange bounde; With a spere all thoru my side To mine herte is mad a wounde.
8. A death  [sung text checked 1 time]
Wanne mine eyhnen misten, And mine heren sissen, And my nose coldet, And my tunge foldet, And my rude slaket, And mine lippes blaken, And my muth grennet, And my spotel rennet, And mine her riset, And mine herte griset, And mine honden bivien, And mine fet stivien - All to late! all to late! Wanne the bere is ate gate. Thanne I schel flutte, From bedde to flore, From flore to here, From here to bere, From bere to putte, And the putt fordut. Thanne lyd mine hus uppe mine nose. Of al this world ne give I it a pese!