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abyde aduyse agayne Almyghty arte thou awaye Beaute blessyd blynde boke Britwell brynge Bycause C I had wende certayne clene clere commaundement Cosyn counseyll daye dede euery dedf Dethe doth Dyscrecio dyscrecyon endynge fayne fayre fayth felawship euery fere flesshe fynde fyue gaue Gentyll goddes gracyous Gramercy grete gyue hath helpe herte heuen heuenly hyder Iesu iournaye Iourney kyll kynde kynge kynnesmen Kynrede leue Loke lorde loue loued lyfe lyue lyueth lyuynge mater mercy mery moche moost myght mynde Nay euery neuer payne penaunce pray praye preest preesthode promysed pylgrymage receyue redy respyte sacrament saue sayd saye saynt charyte shalte shewe sholde Skot sorowe soule spede speke strength swete synne synner Therfore therto theyr thou hast Thy rekenynge thynge thynke togyder truely trynyte tyll tyme veryly vnredy vyage waye wepe wete whan wheder whyle worlde wyll go wyll ye wyse wyttes ye haue Ye wolde
Page 27 - God that ye have taryed so longe. Now set eche of you on this Rodde your honde, And shortely folowe me. I go before there I wolde be. God be our gyde!
Page 7 - Ne by pope, emperour, kynge, duke, ne prynces ; For, and I wolde receyve gyftes grete, All the worlde I might gete: But my custome is clene contrary. I gyve the no respyte; come hens, and not tary.
Page 3 - I hanged bytwene two, it can not be denyed; To gete them lyfe I suffred to be deed; I heled theyr fete; with thornes hurt was my heed. I coude do...
Page 7 - And preve thy frendes yf thou can; For, wete thou well, the tyde abydeth no man, And in the worlde eche lyvynge creature For Adams synne must dye of nature.
Page 17 - And also they gave me wordes fayre ; They lacked no fayre spekynge, But all forsake me in the endynge.
Page 18 - Then of myself I was ashamed, And so I am worthy to be blamed; Thus may I well myself hate. Of whom shall I now counsel take ? I think that I shall never speed Till that I go to my Good-Deed, But alas, she is so weak, That she can neither go nor speak; Yet will I venture on her now.
Page 31 - Alas, how shall he do than? For, after dethe, amendes may no man make, For than mercy and pyte doth hym forsake.
Page 27 - Alas, I am so faynt I may not stande; My lymmes under me do folde. Frendes, let us not tourne agayne to this lande, Not for all the worldes golde; For in to this cave must I crepe And tourne to erth, and there to slepe.
Page 15 - Who calleth me? Everyman? what, hast thou haste? I lye here in corners trussed and pyled so hye, And in chestes I am locked so fast, 395 Also sacked in bagges, thou mayst se with thyn eye, I can not styre ; in packes lowe I lye : What wolde ye have, lightly me saye.