Classic Poem

Brothers among men who after us shall live,
Let not your hearts' disdain against us rise,
For if some pity for our woe ye have,
The sooner God your pardon shall devise.
Behold, here five or six of us we peise.
As to our flesh, which we fed wantonly,
Rotten, devoured, it hangeth mournfully;
And we, the bones, to dust and ash are riven,
Let none make scorn of our infirmity,
But pray to God that all we be forgiven.

If, brothers, we cry out, ye should not give
Disdain for answer, even if justice 'tis
That murders us. This thing ye should believe,
That always all men are not wholly wise;
Pray often for us then, not once or twice,
Before the fair son of the Virgin Mary,
Lest that — for us — his grace prove injury
And we beneath the lord of Hell be driven.
Now we are dead, cease importunity
And pray to God that all we be forgiven.

The rain doth weaken all our strength and lave
Us, the sun blackens us again and dries;
Our eyes the ravens hollow like a grave.
Our beards and eyebrows are plucked off by pies.
Never rest comes to us in any wise;
Now here, now there, as the wind sways, sway we,
Swung at the wind's high pleasure ceaselessly,
More pecked by birds than hazel-nuts that ripen.
Be ye not then of our fraternity,
But pray to God that all we be forgiven.

Prince Jesus, above all hast mastery,
Let not high Hell become our seigneury;
There we have naught to do nor order even.
Brothers, keep here no thought of mockery,
But pray to God that all we be forgiven.