Every man this mervayle may,
And drede that Lorde of mekyl myght;
But ȝit of this no man sey nay,
ffor we have seyn hym with opyn syght.
Lucas. That he doth leve, I woot wel this,
He is aresyn with flesche and blood;
A levynge man forsothe he is,
That rewly was rent upon a rood.
Alle heyl! dere brothyr, and chaunge ȝour mood,
ffor Cryst doth levyn and hath his hele;