And myche more owe I youre modyr be alye,
Syn ye wern born God and man of my bodye,
To desyre youre presens that were oure ferste formacyon.
Sapientia. My suete moderis preyere onto me doth assende,
Here holy herte and here love is only on me;
Wherfore, aungyl, to here thou schalt now dyssende,
Seyinge here sche schal comyn to myn eternyté.
Myn habundaunt mercy on here I extende,
Resservynge here to joye from worldly perplexité,
And in tokyn therof this palme now pretende,