Cryst that tholyd wounde.
He hath us wonnyn owt of wreche;
The ryght wey God wyl us teche
ffor to seke my lorde, my leche,
His blood hath me unbownde.
vij. devyls in me were pyght:
My love, my lord, my God Almyght,
Awey he weryd tho ffyndys wight
With his wyse wurde.
He droff fro me the fendes lees,