Wherfore now here besyde,
To Sancta Sanctorum wyl I go,
To pray God to be my gyde,
To comfort me aftyr my wo.
Here Symeon knelyth and seyth,
A! gode God in Trinité!
Whow longe xal I abyde the,
Tyl that thou son thou doth sende,
That I in erthe myght hym se?
Good Lord, consydyr to me,