And to Petyr the trewthe telle ȝe,—
Therof have ȝe no dreed.
Spare ȝe not the soth to say,
He that was deed and closyd in clay,
He is resyn this same day,
And levyth with woundys reed.
Maria Magdalen. A, myrthe and joye in herte we have!
ffor now is resyn out of his grave,
He levyth now oure lyf to save,
That dede lay in the clay.