Lorde, thorwe thin helpe, I drynke of this potacyon.
Hic beata virgo bibit de potacione, et postea circuivit altare, dicens,
God, as I nevyr knew of mannys maculacion,
But evyr have lyved in trew virginité,
Send me this day thin holy consolacion,
That alle this fayr peple my clennes may se.
O gracyous God, as thou hast chose me,
ffor to be thi modyr, of me to be born!
Save thi tabernacle that clene is kepte for the,
Whiche now am put at repref and skorn.