Almighty God in being was
Before the world begun,
And Wisdom, he dwelt with him there,
And was his only son.
Then gloomy darkness bore the sway,
Till he created light;
He formed the light, and called it day,
And called the darkness night.

He called the waters to their place,
And gave the deep its bound;
The waters he pronounced seas,
And earth he named the ground.
Now let the verdant grass arise,
And herbs bring forth their seed
After his kind, of every size,
And so it was indeed.

Now in the firmament appears

Almighty father! of high Heaven possess'd!
Be thy name holy, and thy power confess'd!
Teach us, on earth to know, and do thy will ;
As Heaven's bright train thy great commands fulfill.
Gracious, our daily bread of life, bestow:
And show us mercy , as we mercy show:
Guard us, from strong temptation's powerful call,
Nor, when we meet with evil , let us fall .

1

Almighty creator and ruler as well
Of the earth and the heaven and darkness and hell
We adore thee—and worship as simple as when
Adam knelt in the garden the first of all men
The God of that sun that yet brings the broad day
When Eve the first flower in the first garden lay
That mercy that yet ever falls from the sky
Says that the meanest of beings never shall die

2

Almighty creator of all we behold
The mountains bare rock and the meadows all gold
The wilderness old and the desert of sand

Almighty and all present Power,
Short is the prayer I make to Thee,
I do not ask in battle hour
For any shield to cover me.

The vast unalterable way,
From which the stars do not depart
May not be turned aside to stay
The bullet flying to my heart.

I ask no help to strike my foe,
I ask no petty victory here,
The enemy I hate, I know,
To Thee is also dear.

But this I pray, be at my side
When death is drawing through the sky,
Almighty God who also died
Teach me the way that I should die.

Alle that beth of herte trewe
A stounde herkneth to my song:
Of del that Deth hath dight us newe,
That maketh me sike and sorewe among;
Of a knight that wes so strong,
Of wham God hath don his wille.
Me thuncheth that Deth hath don us wrong
That he so sone shall ligge stille.

All Englond aghte for to knowe
Of wham that song is that I singe:
Of Edward King that lith so lowe,
Yent all this world his nome con springe;
Trewest mon of alle thinge,
And in werre war and wis.
For him we aghte oure honden wringe —

Alle bakbiteres hi wendeth to helle,
Robberes and reveres and the manquelle;
Lechers and horlings thider shulleth wende,
And ther hi shulle wunie ever buten ende.
Alle thees false chapmen the feend hem wille habbe,
Bakeres and breweres for alle men hi gabbe:
Lowe hi holdeth here galun, mid berme hi hine fulleth,
And ever of the purse that selver hi tulleth;
Bothe hi maketh feble here bred and here ale;
Habbe hi that selver, ne telleth hi never tale.
 Goode men, for Godes luve, bileveth suche sinne,
For at then ende it binimeth hevenriche winne.

Allah gives light in darkness,
Allah gives rest in pain,
Cheeks that are white with weeping
Allah paints red again.

The flowers and the blossoms wither,
Years vanish with flying feet;
But my heart will live on forever,
That here in sadness beat.

Gladly to Allah's dwelling
Yonder would I take flight;
There will the darkness vanish,
There will my eyes have sight.

Allace! so sobir is the micht
Of wemen for to mak debait
In contrair menis subtell slicht,
Quhilk ar fulfillit with dissait;
With tressone so intoxicait
Ar mennis mouthis at all houris,
Quhome in to trest no woman wait.
Sic perrell lyis in paramouris.

Sum sweris that he luvis so weill
That he will de without remeid,
Bot gife that he hir freindschip feill
That garris him sic langour leid;
And thocht he haif no doubt of speid,
Yit will he sich and schaw grit schouris,
As he wald sterfe in to that steid.

All you lords of Scottland ffaire,
And ladyes alsoe, bright of blee,
There is a ladye amongst them all,
Of her report you shall heare of me.

Of her bewtye shee is soe bright,
And of her colour soe bright of blee;
Shee is daughter to the Lord Arrndell,
His heyre apparrant ffor to bee.

" I 'le see tha t bryde," Lo rd Phenix sayes,
" Tha t is a ladye of hye degree,
And iff I like her countenance well,

All ye young men, I pray draw near,
I'll let you hear my mind
Concerning those who fickle are,
And inconstant as the wind.

A pretty maid who late livd here,
And sweethearts many had,
The gardener-lad he viewd them all,
Just as they came and gaed.

The gardener-lad he viewd them all,
But swore he had no skill.
If I were to go as oft to her,
Ye surely would me kill.

I'm sure she's not a proper maid,
I'm sure she is not tall.
Another young man standing by,
He said, Slight none at all.