ffor man I have mad my body in brede,
His sowle for to fede.
Man, and thou lete meyns gone,
And wylt not folwyn me anone,
Suche a frende fyndyst thou nevyr none,
To help the at thi nede.
Salve, sancta parens! my modyr dere!
Alle heyl, modyr, with glad chere!
ffor now is aresyn, with body clere,
Thi sone that was delve depe.