Upon a cross nailed I was for thee,
I suffered death to pay thy raunison;[248]
Forsake thy synne for the love of Me,
Be repentant, make plain confession.
To contrite hearts I give remission;
Be not despaired, for I am not vengeable;
’Gainst ghostly enemies, think on my Passion;
Why art thou froward since I am merciable?
Another fifteenth-century poem, whose theme is taken from Solomon’s Song, the love of Christ for man’s soul, concludes every eight-line stanza with the text, Quia amore langueo.[249] Here are two stanzas—
Upon this mount I found a tree,
Under this tree a man sitting;
From head to foot wounded was he.
His heart’s blood I saw bleeding;
A seemly man to be a king,
A gracious face to look unto;
I asked him how he had paining,[250]
He said Quia amore langueo.
I am true-love that false was never,
My sister, man’s soul, I loved her thus,
Because I would not from her dissever
I left my kingdom glorious;
I provide for her a palace precious;
She fleeth, I follow, I sought her so.
I suffered the pain piteous,
Quia amore langueo.
I crowned her with bliss, and she me with scorn,
I led her to chamber, and she me to die;
I brought her to worship, and she me to scorn,
I did her reverence, and she me villainy, etc.
Another favourite theme was a pathetic “Complaint of Christ,” in which He sets before man all that He has done for him, in creation, in providence, in redemption, and appeals against his unkindness. The refrain of every stanza is, “Why art thou to thy friend unkind?” Here is a stanza of it—
Man, I love thee! Whom lovest thou?
I am thy friend, why wilt thou feign?
I forgave, and thou Me slew;
Who hath de-parted our love in twain?
Turne to Me! Bethink thee how
Thou hast gone amiss! Come home again!
And thou shalt be as welcome now
As he that synne never did stain.
Man! bethink thee what thou art;
From whence thou come, and whither thou move,
For though thou to-day be in health and quarte,[251]
To-morrow I may put thee adown.
I forgave, and thou sayest nay,
Why art thou to thy friend unkind?
I have bought thy love full dear,
Unkind! why forsakest thou mine?
I gave thee mine heart and blood in fere,
Unkind! why wilt thou not give Me thine?
