Us semyth this ryth is.
Mychael. Ya, gloryous God, lo! the sowle here prest, now,
To this blissid body likyth you to fest, now,
Hefne and erthe wold thynke this the best, now,
In as myche as sche bare you, God, in youre mythtis.
Hic vadit anima in corpus Mariæ.
Dominus. Go thanne, blyssid soule, to that body ageyn:
Arys now, my dowe, my nehebour, and my swete frende,
Tabernacle of joye, vessel of lyf, hefnely temple, to reyn,
Ye schal have the blysse wyth me moder that hath non ende;