Walter Kennedy

1460-1518 / Scotland

The Passioun Of Christ: 9 - At Ewinsang

AT EWINSANG.
ith reuthfull hert remember at evinsang
With cruell dede quhilk deit hes þi king.
Behald quhat pane, quhat tyme, quhat place hang,
He hes tholit to bring þe to his ring;
And þuhat pane and pyne dreit hes þis ding,
Is for þi saik, be nocht þairfor vnkind,
Bot nycht and day his dede call in þi mynd.
Efter þat deid as bond þis knycht had tane,
And of evinsang þe tyme approchit neir,
Ane gret noble, quhilk Joseph hecht to name,
Come fra þe court Christ for till inquyre.
In þair dedis he was not counsalyre,
For to Jesu he lang discipill wes,
Thairfor but dreid he thocht to Pilat pas.
This nobill schew his nobilite,
For he was first quhilk honorit þis king.
Churlis him slew and scurgit him cruelle,
Quhilkis in þe toun wes haldin maist indigne.
His nobill hart gert sa gret piete spring,
That lyfe and deid he comptit not a haw,
So purlie hing quhen he his maister saw.
All dreid of deid full sone he set on syde
And constantlie to Pilat enterit he,
Askit þat corps all bludy in þat tyde,
With gret reuerence þat it mycht beryit be.
Fra Pylat herd þat þai war deid all thre,
Without delay he informit his will,
And gert þe corps of Christ be gevin him till.
Ane pretius claith, quhilk we ane syndon call,
That kingly corps to couer he coft syne;
To wirschip him he set his study all;
Oft on þe croce he thocht gret dreid to ryn.
He wald not cum doun, quhill he doun mycht wyn,
Bot him causit instant necessite
To clym abone and louss him of þe tre.
Nichodemus, quhilk come apon þe nycht,
Richt sacretlie to se oure saluiour,
Throu Christis blude of faith gat sic a lycht,
That his deid corps till oynt be tuke in cure;
Of diuerss spicis a sindry mixtour
Fra corruptioun his body till inbalme;
Syn to þe croce þai come baith but .
Syne to þe croce a lang ledder þai june
Of þat hurde to lowss þe lokis strang.
Syne on þe ledder Joseph clame abone,
Fra hand to fute þe nalis out þai dang;
That hevinlie hurde syne in armis he thrang,
He come doun richer, þan quhen he vp ascendit,
Be all þe gold þat he had on him spendit.
Than his moder him in hir armis claucht,
To price his pane neir by þe croce sat doun,
Quhyle with þe Jowis, quhile with þe deid scho faucht.
His bludy corps sa sair hir hert gart ound.
Bot quhen sche saw þat neuer a part wes soun
Of his body, sche cryit reuthfully:
Now þou art deid; þairfor full way is me.
Quhen þat sueit thing beheld his tender hyde
In euery part brokin with scurgis scharpe,
Als heid and fute, þe wound of his rycht syde,
The swerd of dule persit hir tender harte.
Mirth fled fra hame, cair maid his cave invart,
Thrang throw hir hert, quhill sche said petiuslie:
My sone is deid, þerfor full way is me.
His bludy corps in hir armis scho thrang,
About hir hals syne laid his armis tua.
O Deid, sche said, quhy hes þou done þis wrang,
To let me leif, sen he is deid me fra?
Off all þis warld I wait nathing bot wa;
My panis supprice, for doloure neir I de,
My sone is deid, þairfor full way is me.
His fair vissage all barkit our with blude,
With greit ferour scho junit to hir face;
Baith mouth and chyn to kiss scho thocht full gude,
Off dedlie wo scho forgit hir solace.
couth nocht ceiss þat blissit corps to brace,
Thoucht bludy teris le hir to se.
For hir sueit sone scho said: Full wa is me.
Scho said: Sweit sone, þi cristall eyne ar dyme,
Thy lufsum lippis with ded ar maid full bla,
Thy teth is haw, changit cheik and chyne,
Thy toung is clung, þou may nocht speik nor na,
Thy feit is sair, þou may nocht stand nor ga;
The scurgis scharp hes rewin baith body and the,
Now art þow ded, þairfor full wa is me.
Jerusalem, þou ceiss nocht of þi syn,
Nane sall resist to þi transgressioun;
Now is he dede, quhilk wes wont oft to ryn
Throu all Jowry, transgressouris for to confound.
Bot of his woce now decressit is þe sound.
Thy fals lawis nocht reformit be,
For þi doctour is ded, full wa is me.
Thoucht his moder maid lamentacioun,
And for his ded murnit rycht pietuouslie,
That naturall greif wes subiect to ressoun,
Quhilk giddit ay to naturite.
Agane ressoun faucht ay sensualite,
Quhilk gart him murne baith in ded and thocht,
Bot ressoun this greife offendit nocht.
101 Total read