I wold not for al erthe se here fal.
Episcopus. Come, gode Mary, come, babe, I the calle;
Thi pas pratyly to this plas pretende,
Thou xalt be the dowtere of God eternalle,
If the fyftene grees thou may ascende;
It is meracle if thou do; now God the dyffende!
ffrom Babylony to hevynly Jherusalem this is the way;
Every man that thynk his lyf to amende,
The fyftene psalmys in memorye of this mayde say, Maria!
Maria! et sic deinceps usque ad finem quindecim psalmorum.