Maria. To thank oure soveryen Lord not sufficyth my mende,
I xal fede me of this fode my Lord hath me sent;
Alle maner of savowres in this mete I fynde,
I felt nevyr non so swete ner so redolent.
Angelus. Eche day therwith ȝe xal be content;
Aunge alle howrys xal to ȝow apere.
Maria. Mercy, my makere, how may this be ment?
I am the sympelest creature that is levynge here.
Angelus. In ȝour name Maria ffyve letterys we han,—
M. Mayde most mercyfulle and mekest in mende;