Sinful man look up and see, how ruefully I hung on rood;
And of my penance have pity with sorrowful heart and dreary mood:
All this, man, I suffered for thee: My flesh was riven, all spilt My blood;
Lift up thine heart, call thou on Me, forsake thy sin: have mercy, God.
Think oft with sore heart of thy foul sins,
Think oft of hell-woe, of heaven-kingdom's wins;[9]
Think of thine own death, of God's death on rood,
The grim doom of Doom's-day have thou oft in mood:
Think how false is this world, and what its reward,
Think what, for His good death, thou owest thy Lord.
Richard Rolle.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] Wins = joys.
Transcriber's Notes:
Page [16]: The speech that starts on this page with "Thou wot'st...." has no closing quotes (sic)
Page [59]: The speech that starts on this page with "For not many...." has no closing quotes (sic)
Page [115]: Closing quotes following "idle speech" removed.