Marye, mayde mylde and fre,
Chambre of the Trynyté,
One wyle lest to me
Ase ich thee grete wyth songe;
Thagh my fet onclene be,
My mes thou onderfonge.

Thou art quene of paradys,
Of hevene, of erthe, of al that hys;
Thou bere thane kynge of blys
Wythoute senne and sore;
Thou hast yryght that was amys,
Ywonne that was ylore.

Thou ert the colvere of Noe
That broute the braunche of olyve tre,
In tokne that pays scholde be
Bytuexte God and manne.
Suete levedy, help thou me
Wanne ich schal wende hanne.

Thou art the bosche of Synay,
Thou art the rytte Sarray,
Thou hast ybrought ous out of cry
Of calenge of the fende.
Thou art Crystes oghene drury
And of Davyes kende.

Thou ert the slinge, thy sone the ston
That Davy slange Golye opon;
Thou ert the yerd al of Aaron,
Me dreye isegh spryngynde.
Wytnesse at ham everechon
That wyste of thyne chyldynge.

Thou ert the temple Salomon;
In thee wondrede Gedeon;
Thou hest ygladed Symeon
Wyth thyne swete offrynge
In the temple atte auter-ston
Wyth Jhesus hevene kynge.

Thou ert Judith, that fayre wyf,
Thou hast abated al that stryf;
Olofernes wyth hys knyf
Hys hevede thou hym bynome.
Thou hest ysaved here lef
That to thee wylle come.

Thou ert Hester, that swete thynge,
And Assever the ryche kynge
Thee heth ychose to hys weddynge
And quene he heth avonge;
For Mardocheus thy derlynge
Syre Aman was yhonge.

The prophete Ezechyel,
In hys boke hyt wytnesseth wel:
Thou ert the gate so stronge so stel
Ac evere yschet fram manne;
Thou erte the ryghte vayre Rachel,
Fayrest of alle wymman.

By ryghte toknynge thou ert the hel
Of wan spellede Danyel;
Thou ert Emaus, the ryche castel
Thar resteth alle werye;
In thee restede Emanuel,
Of wan yspeketh Ysaye.

Ine thee hys God bycome a chyld,
Ine thee hys wreche bycome myld;
That unicorn that was so wyld
Aleyd hys of a cheaste:
Thou hast ytamed and istyld
Wyth melke of thy breste.

Ine the Apocalyps Sent John
Isey ane wymman wyth sonne bygon,
Thane mone al onder hyre ton,
Icrouned wyth tuel sterre:
Swyl a levedy nas nevere non
Wyth thane fend to werre.

Ase the sonne taketh hyre pas
Wythoute breche thorghout that glas,
Thy maydenhod onwemmed hyt was
For bere of thyne chylde.
Nou, swete levedy of solas,
To ous senfolle be thou mylde.

Have, levedy, thys lytel songe
That out of senfol herte spronge;
Agens the feend thou make me stronge
And gyf me thy wyssinge,
And thagh ich habbe ydo thee wrange,
Thou graunte me amendynge.