Now is mon hol and soint,
And uvel him comit in mund.
Thenne me seint aftir the prest,
That wel con reden him to Crist.
Afteir the prest boit icomin,
The feirliche Deit him havit inomin.
Me prikit him in on ful clohit,
And legget him by the wout.
Amorwen, both in sout and norit,
Me nimit that body and berrit it forit.
Me gravit him put other ston;
Therin me leit the fukul bon.
Thenne sait the soule to the licam,
" Wey! that ic ever in thee com.
Thu noldes, Friday, festen to non,
Ne, the Setterday, almesse don,
Ne, then Sonneday, gon to churche,
Ne Cristene werkes wurche.
Neir thu never so prud,
Of hude and of hewe ikud,
Thu shalt in orthe wonien and wormes thee tochewen,
And of alle ben lot that her thee were ilewe."