A Compendious Bulk of Godly Psalms and Spiritual Songs, Psalms and ballads · Part 38 – Part 49

A Compendious Bulk of Godly Psalms and Spiritual Songs · Psalms and ballads · Part 38 – Part 49

p. 116QVHO is at my windo, quho, quho,

Go from my windo, go, go,

Quho callis thair, sa lyke a strangair

Go from my windo go.

Lord I am heir ane wretchit mortall,

That for thy mercy dois cry and call:

Unto the my Lord Celestiall

Se quho is at my windo, quho.

How dar thow for mercy cry?

Sa lang in Sin as thow dois ly,

Mercy to hauehave thow art not worthy

Go from my windo, go.

My gylt gude Lord I will refuse,

And the wickit lyfe that I did vse

Traistand thy mercy sall be myne excuse,

Se quho is at thy windo, quho.

To be excusit, thow wald richt faine,

In spending of thy lyfe in vaine

Hauing my Gospell in greit disdaine,

p. 117Go from my winde, go.

O Lord I hauehave offendit the,

Excuse thairof thair can nane be,

I hauehave followit them that sa teichit me,

Se quho is at my windo, quho.

Nay I call the nocht fra my dure I wis,

Lyke ane stranger that vnknawin is,

Thow art my brother, and my will it is

That in at my dure thow go.

With richt hombill hart Lord I the pray,

Thy comfort and grace obteine I may,

Schaw me the paith and reddy way

In at thy dure for to go.

I am cheif gyde to riche and pure,

Schawand the paith way richt to my dure,

I am thair comfort in euerie hour

That in at my dure will go.

Bot thay that walk ane vther way.

As mony did teiche from day to day,

Thay wer indurit my Gospell did say,

And far from my dure sall go.

O gracious Lord comfort of all wicht,

For thy greit power, and cheif excellent micht,

Sen thow art gyde and verray licht,

In at thy dure let me go.

Man I gaue the nocht see will,

p. 118That thow suld my Gospell spill,

Thow dois na gude bot euer ill

Thairfoir from my dure that thow go.

That will allace hes me begylit,

That will sa sair hes me defylit,

That will thy presence hes me exilit,

Ȝit at thy dure lat me go.

To blame that will thow dois not richt,

I gaue the reūoun quhairby thow micht,

HaueHave knawin the day by the dark nicht,

In at my dure for to go.

Lord, I pray the with all my hart,

Of thy greit mercy remufe my smart,

Lat ane drop of thy grace be my part

That in at thy dure I may go,

I hauehave spokin in my Scripture

I will the deid of na Creature.

Quha will ask mercy sall be sure

And in at my dure for to go.

O Lord quhais mercy is but end,

Quhairin ocht to the I did offend,

Grant me space my lyfe to amend,

That in at thy dure I may go.

Remember thy sin, and als thy smart

And als for the quhat was my part

Remember the speir that thirlit my hart▪

And in at my dure thow sall go.

p. 119And it wer ȝit till do againe,

Rather or thow suldly in paine

I wald suffer mair in certaine,

That in at my dure thow micht go.

I ask na thing of the thairfoir,

Bot lufe for lufe, to lay in stoir:

Gif me thy hart I ask no moir

And in at my dure thow sall go.

O gracious Lord Celestiall,

As thow art Lord and King Eternall,

Grant vsus grace that we may enter all,

And in at thy dure for to go.

Quho is at my windo, quho,

Go from my windo go,

Cry na mair thair, lyke ane strang

Bot in at my dure thow go.

FINIS.

¶ Deus misereatur. Psal.

O GOD be mercyfull to vsus,

And send to vsus thy blissing,

Thy face schaw vsus sa gloriou…

And be euer to vsus luiffing.

That men on eird may knaw thy v…

Thy sauing heill and richteousnes

That thay be nocht led nicht …

Fra thy preceptis and trewIusti…

Ta seik Saluatioun quhair nane is

p. 120Thairfoir the pepill micht Magnifie:

O God all folke and honour thy Name,

Let all the pepill reioyce glaidlie

Becaus thow dois richt without blame,

The pepill dois thow iudge trewlie,

And ordouris euerie Natioun:

Thow hes declarit the eird iustlie

Euer sen the first Creatioun,

Throw thy godlie prouisioun.

The pepill moste spred thy Name sa hie,

All pepill (O God) mon giuegive the honour

The eird alswa richt plenteouslie,

Mot incres euer moir and moir,

And God quhilk is our God ouer all

Mot do vsus gude and plesour.

God mot blis vsus greit and small,

And all the warld him honour

Alway for his micht and power.

FINIS.

IN till ane mirthfull Maij morning

Quhen Phebus did vp spring▪

Walkand I lay, in ane garding gay,

Thinkand on Christ sa fre

Quhilk meiklie for mankynde,

Tholit to be pynde,

On Croce cruellie. La. La.

And how he hes me wrocht,

And formit me of nocht,

Iyke his picture, that Lord maist sure,

In eird he hes me support,

p. 121Syne me to hald in richt,

Hes send ane Angell bricht,

To be my comfort. La. La.

… Sathan fals vntrew,

Quhilk cruelly dois persew,

With violence, and greit defence,

In eird to tempt mankynde

With cruell sinnis seuin,

The Saull to gyde from heuin,

To hell for to be pyude. La. La.

Thairfoir (O gracious Lord)

Quhilk mercy hes restoird

That sinfull wicht, destroy his micht,

Quhilk wirkis aganis thy gloir,

And send thy gracious word,

Thy pepill may be restoird

We pray the thairfoir. La. Lay.

FINIS.

All my hart ay this is my sang,

With dowbill mirth and ioy amang,

Sa blyith as byrd my God to sang,

Christ hes my hart ay.

Quha hes my hart bot heuinnis King:

Quhilk causis me for ioy to sing.

Quhome that I lufe …touir all thing

Christ hes my hart ay.

He is fair, sober, and bening,

Sweit, meik, and gentill in all thing,

p. 122Maist worthiest to hauehave louing,

Christ hes my hart ay.

For vsus that blissit barne was borne,

For vsus he was baith rent and torne

For vsus he was Crownit with thorne,

Christ hes my hart ay.

For vsus he sched his precious blude,

For vsus he was natilit on the Rude

For vsus he in mony battell stude,

Christ hes my hart ay,

Nixt him to lufe his Mother fair.

With steidfast hart for euer mair,

Scho bure the byrth fred vsus from cair.

Christ hes my hart ay.

We pray to God that sittis abufe,

Fra him let neuer our hartis remufe,

Nor for na suddand warldly lufe

Christ hes my hart ay.

He is the lufe of luifaris all,

He cummis▪ on him quhen we call

For vsus he drank the bitter gall

Christ hes my hart ay.

FINIS.

MY Lufe murnis for me, for me,

My lufe that murnis for me,

I am vnkynde, hes nocht in mynde

My Lufe that murnis for me.

p. 123Quha is my lufe, bot God abufe,

Quhilk all this warld hes wrocht:

The King of blis, my lufe he is

Full deir he hes me bocht.

His precious blude he sched on Rude.

That was to mak vsus fre:

This sall I preif be Goddis leif,

That sair my Lufe murnis for me.

This my lufe, come from abufe,

And borne was of ane Mayd:

For till fulfill his fatheris will,

Till fill furth that he said.

Man hauehave in mynde, and thow be kynde.

Thy Lufe that murnis for the

How he on Rude, did sched his blude,

From Sathan to mak the fre.

FINIS.

TELL me now and in quhat wise,

How that I suld my lufe forgo:

Baith day and nicht ane thousand syse

Thir tyrannis walkins me with wo.

At midnicht mirk thay will vsus tak,

And into prisone will vsus sling:

Thair mon we ly quhill we forsaik

The Name of God, quhilk is our King.

Then faggottis mon we burne or heir,

Or to the deid thay will vsus bring:

p. 124It dois them gude to do vsus deir

And to confusioun vsus doun thring.

Allace ȝour grace hes done greit wrang

To suffer tyrannis in sic sort

Daylie ȝour leigis till ouer gang

That dois bot Christis word report.

Christ sen ȝour grace wald cry ane cry,

Out throw the Realme of all Scotland

The man that wald liue faithfullie

Ȝe wald him suffer in the land.

Then suld we outher do or die,

Or ellis our lyfe we suld lay for it

And euer to liue in Cheritie,

Be Christ Iesus quhilk is our Lord.

Pluk vp ȝour hartis, and mak ȝow bowne,

For Christis word se ȝe stand for it,

Thair crueltie it sall cum downe

Be Christ Iesus quhilk is our Lord.

Thow King of gloir grant vsus thy blis,

Send vsus support and comforting,

Aganis our fais that bissie is,

That schaipis till strop baith auld and ȝing.

In hour of deid grant vsus thy strenth,

Glaidly to thoill thair crueltie,

And that we may with the at lenth

Ressa…e thy ioy Eternallie.

FINIS.

p. 125¶Magnificat anima mea.

MY Saule dois Magnifie the Lord,

My Spreit reioycis gretumlie:

In God my Sauiour, and in his wor…

For he hes sene the law degre

Of me, his handmadin, trewli…,

Behald now efter this day,

All generations sall speik of me,

And call me blissit alway.

For he that is onlie of micht,

Hes done greit thingis vntounto me,

And haly is his Name be rich…

As for his endles merciemercy,

It duris perpetuallie

In euerie generatioun

And thay that dreidis him vnfenȝeitlie

Without dissimulatioun.

He schawis strenth with his arme potent,

Declaris him self to be of power:

He scatteris all men of proude Intent

Euin for thair wickit behauiour,

Quhilk reignes in thair hartis euerie hou…

He puttis doun the michtie,

From thair hie estait and greit honour

Excelling them of law degre.

The houngrie feidis he with gud…

And lettis the riche ga emptie:

Quhe… his awin pepill wantis fude

It thinkis vponupon his greit merciemercy,

p. 126And helpis his seruandis ane and all:

Euin Israel he hes promysit,

And to our fatheris perpetuall

Abraham and to his seid.

FINIS.

¶Christi qui lux.

CHRIST thow art the licht, bot & the day,

The mirknes of nicht thow puttis away

We knaw thow art the verray licht

That schynis to vsus baith day and nicht,

O haly Lord, we the beseik,

This nicht vsus to defend and keip,

Thy rest, and peace be with vsus all,

Lat neuer na euill thing vsus be fall,

Na heuy sleip, nor deidly sin.

Lat not our Ennemeis vsus ouercum

Nor ȝit our fleshe giuegive na consent:

Grant vsus our faultis for to repent.

Lord lat our eine sum sleip do tak,

Our hartis all tyme on the may waik,

Thy richt hand keip vsus from all euill,

Thy awin seruand that luiffis the weill.

Our defender, to the we pray,

All Ire and malice, thow put vsus fra

Thy seruandis gouerne in the steid,

For quhais ransoun thow did sair bleid.

HaueHave mynde on vsus thow Lord Iesu,

p. 127In this fals warld that is vntrew,

Thow art defendar of our Saule,

Lord heir vsus quhen we on the call.

Gloir be to God, Father of micht,

And to Christ Iesus, his Sone sa bricht,

The haly Gaist that is sa fair,

Keip vsus this nickt and euer mair.

FINIS.

CHRIST is the onlie Sone of God,

The Father Eternall:

We hauehave in Iesse found the rod,

God and man naturall.

He is the morning Star.

His bemis send he hes out far,

Beȝond vther sternis all.

He was for vsus ane man borne,

In the last part of tyme.

Ȝit keipit scho hir madinheid vnforlorne,

His Mother that bure him syne,

He hes hellis ȝettis brokin,

And heuin he hes maid oppin,

Bringand vsus life againe.

Thow onlie maker of all thing,

Thow euerlastand licht,

From end to end all rewling.

Be thy awin godly micht,

Turne thow our hartis vntounto the.

And lichtin thame with the veritie,

That ar far from the richt.

p. 128Let vsus incres in lufe of the,

And in knawledge also,

That we beleuing steidfastlie,

May in Spreit serue the so,

That we in hartis may sauour,

Thy mercy and thy fauour

And traist efter no mo.

Awalk vsus (Lord) we pray the,

The haly Spreit vsus geue,

Quhilk may our auld man mortifie,

That our new man may leue,

Sa will we alway thank the,

That shawis vsus sa greit mercy,

And our sinnis dois forgeue.

FINIS.

CHRIST Iesus is ane A. per C.

And peirles Prince of all mercy,

For he fra me my Sin hes tane.

And is my Sauiour allane.

To saue bot he none is nor sall,

I out tak nane greit nor small,

To him is na comparisoun.

He is my Sauiour allone.

I sall him lufe with steidfast hart,

And for na cause fra him depart,

Bot him to serue I me dispone,

As to my Sauiour allone.

S… on his grace I will depend,

p. 129Quhill Lachesis draw my lyfe till end,

Syne leue my Saule, quhen I am gone,

To Regne with thrinfald God in one.

FINIS.

ALLONE I weip in greit distres,

We ar exilit remediles,

And wait nocht quhy:

Fra Goddis word allace, allace,

Uncourteslie.

Quhair that we suld, glaidlie behauld,

Our Sauiour, baith ȝoung and auld,

Sa plesandlie,

Now ar we baneist monyfauld,

Uncourteslie.

Thay may our body fra the bind,

Sa can thay not our hartis, and mynde

Fixit on the.

Howbeit we be with dolour pynde,

Maist cruellie

O Antichrist we may the call,

From Goddis word wald gar vsus fall,

Thy crueltie:

Wald baneis vsus from plesouris all,

Uncourteslie.

Indurit Ignorance hes slaine,

Thy hart and put vsus to greit paine,

Quhat remedie.

Sen we ar baneist from Christ allaine,

Uncourteslie.

FINIS.

THE Lord sayis I will schaw,

My will and eik my mynde,

p. 130Mark weill my Scripture and my Law

Quhairin that thow sall find.

That with my faith I mak ane vow

And knittis it with ane knot:

The treuth is sa▪ I lufe the now

Be war I hait the not.

It was my Fatheris will

That I suld tak the cure,

For to cum downe in eirth the till,

And tak thy vyle nature.

To cleith my precious body pure,

Sa clene from sin and spot,

For lufe of the I mak the sure

Be war I hait the not.

I fand the loist from blis

Throw Adamis sin and pleid:

And quha sa euer wrocht the mis

Was nane culd find remeid

Quhill I my self did chose the deid

To saue the from the pot,

I lufe the weill serue me in dreid

Be war I hait the not.

For all the greuous sorrowis soir,

I sufferit and paine,

To my rewaird I ask no moir.

Bot thy trew lufe againe

I am ane husband man but weir

Quhilk labouris for my lot,

I lufe the weill I mak the sure,

Be war I hait the not.

p. 131My Ȝock is wounder sweit,

And als my burding licht.

All that be with my grace repleit:

Sall go the way full richt.

I am the rute of all mercy,

Quhilk neuer sall faid nor rot:

Sen nane the luiffit sa weill as I,

Be war I hait the not.

All ȝe that fair dois thrist,

Throuch brukilnes of the flesche,

Cum vntounto me, quhen that ȝe li… ▪

I sall ȝour saulis refresche.

Call vponupon me and I sall heir,

And saif the from the schot,

I lufe the weill I coft the deir,

Be war I hair the not.

Attend and tak gude keip,

To thame that cumis to the,

In to the habite of ane s…heip.

with subtell Scrinonis slie.

For doutles than war inwartlie,

Fals wolfis vnderunder cot,

Renunce thair Lawis and cum to u…,

Trewlie I hait the not.

Na man sall cum to me,

Except my Father him draw.

Nor se my Father in heuin sa hie,

Bot be me and my Law.

Quhairfoir o man prent in thy mynde,

Thir wordis and this knot,

p. 132And wirk as my word dois the bind,

Be war I hait the not.

FINIS.