"De sixte kunfort is ðet ure Louerd, hwon he iðolð ðet we beoð itented, he plaieð mid us, ase ðe moder mid hire ßunge deorlinge; vlihð from him, and hut hire, and let hit sitten one, and loken ßeorne abuten, and cleopien Dame! dame! and weopen one hwule; and ðeonne mid ispredde ermes leapeð lauhwinde vorð, and cluppeð and cusseð and wipeð his eien. Riht so ure Louerd let us one iwurðen oðer hwules, and wiðdraweð his grace and his kunfort, ðet we ne ivindeð swetnesse in none ðinge ðet we wel doð, ne savor of heorte; and ðauh, iðet ilke point ne luveð he us ure leove veder never ðe lesce, auh he deð hit for muchel luve ðet he haveð to us."
The sixth comfort is that our Lord, when he suffers that we be tempted, he plays with us, as the mother with her young darling; she flees from it, and hides herself, and lets it sit alone and look anxiously about and cry "Dame! dame!" and weep awhile; and then with outspread arms leaps laughing forth and clasps and kisses it and wipes its eyes. Exactly so our Lord leaves us alone once in a while and withdraws his grace and his comfort, that we find sweetness in nothing that we do well, no relish of heart; and notwithstanding, at the same time, he, our dear Father, loves us nevertheless, but he does it for the great love that he has for us.
Professor Sweet calls the Ancren Riwle "one of the most perfect models of simple, natural, eloquent prose in our language." For its introduction of French words, this work occupies a prominent place in the development of the English language. Among the words of French origin found in it, we may instance: "dainty," "cruelty," "vestments," "comfort," "journey," "mercer."
Lyrical Poetry.—A famous British Museum manuscript, known as Harleian MS., No. 2253. which was transcribed about 1310, contains a fine anthology of English lyrics, some of which may have been composed early in the thirteenth century. The best of these are love lyrics, but they are less remarkable for an expression of the tender passion than for a genuine appreciation of nature. Some of them are full of the joy of birds and flowers and warm spring days.
A lover's song, called Alysoun, is one of the best of these lyrics:—
"Bytuene Mershe ant[3] Averil[4]
When spray biginneth to spring,
The lutel[5] foul hath hire wyl
On hyre lud[6] to synge."
A famous spring lyric beginning:—
"Lenten[7] ys come with love to toune,[8]
With blosmen ant with briddes[9] roune."[10]
is a symphony of daisies, roses, "lovesome lilies," thrushes, and "notes suete of nyhtegales."
The refrain of one love song is invigorating with the breath of the northern wind:—