And bydyth me there stylle thre dayes severe,
And I schal pere ageyn to yow to comfort your advercyté:
Wyth this swete soule now from you I assende.
Petrus. In oure tribulacyons, Lord, thou us defende!
We have no comfort on erthe but of the alon.
O! swete soule of Mary, prey thy sone us defende,
Have mynde of thy pore brether when thou comyst to thi tron!
Chorus Mart. Quæ est ista quæ assendit de deserto,
Deliciis affluens injunxa super dilectum suum?
Ordo Angelus. Ista est speciosa inter filias Jherusalem sicut vidistis eam,