Crist, buyere of alle icoren,
The Fadres olpy sone,
On toforen ey ginning boren,
Over alle speche and wone,

Thou light, thou Faderes brightnesse,
Thou trust and hope of alle,
Lust what thy folk thorou out the world
To thee biddeth and calle.

Wroughte of oure hele,
Now have in thine munde
That of o maide wemless
Thou toke oure kunde.

This day berth witnesse,
That neweth uche yer,
That-ou alightest from the Fader —
Of sunne make us sker.

Him hevene and erthe and wilde see
And all that is ther-on
Wroughte, of thy cominge
Hereth with blisfol ron.

And we nomliche that beoth bought
With thine holy blod
For this day singeth a newe song
And maketh blisfol mod:

Weole, Louerd, be with thee,
Iboren of o may,
With Fader and the Holy Gost
Withouten ende-day.