I fere me grettly the prest wole me dysspice.
Than grett slawndyr in the tribus of us xulde aryse:
But this I avow to God, with alle the mekenes I can,
ȝyff of his mercy he wole a childe us devyse,
We xal offre it up into the temple to be Goddys man.
Anna. ȝour swemful wurdys make terys trekyl downe be my face,
I-wys, swete husband, the fawte is in me;
My name is Anne, that is to sey, grace,
We wete not how gracyous God wyl to us be.
A woman xulde bere Cryst, these profecyes have we,