| Edi beo thu, hevene quene
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| Folkes froure and engles blis
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| Moder unwemmed and maiden clene
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| Swich in world non other nis
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| On thee hit is wel eth sene
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| Of all wimmen thu havest thet pris;
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| Mi swete levedi, her mi bene
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| And reu of me yif thi wille is
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| Thu asteghe so the daiy rewe
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| The deleth from th deorke nicht;
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| Of thee sprong a leom newe
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| That al this world haveth ilight
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| Nis non maide of thine heowe
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| Swo fair, so schene, so rudi, swo bricht;
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| Swete levedi, of me thu reowe
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| And have merci of thin knicht
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| Spronge blostme of one rote
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| The Holi Gost thee reste upon;
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| Thet wes for monkunnes bote
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| And heore soule to alesen for on
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| Levedi milde, softe and swote
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| Ic crie thee merci, ic am thi mon
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| Bothe to honde and to fote
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| On alle wise that ic kon |