Classic Poem

A balade made of the same kynge.

Holde up oure yong kyng, ave benigna ,
And sende us peas in oure londe, ave regina .
Mater, nunc bright bee thy beamys,
Moodir of mercy, save bothe reamys;
See to oure innocent, oure crowne may be gladder,
Holde up oure lorde that nevir sigh his ffadir,
Ne the fadir his sone reynyng in his londes;
Grete nede have we to kepe peas amonge us.
On a Sounday, trewly ye may trowe,
Oure bisshoppes and oure abbottes were mytird arowe;
Two archiebisshoppes so woorthely acqueyntid,
And a gracious cardynalle aboute oure kyng anoyntid.
Thre swerdis there were borne, oon poyntlees, and two poyntid;
The toon was a swerde of mercy, the oothir of astate,
The third was of the empier the which ert oure gate.
Three dukes were in presens woorshipe to encrece;
Two bisshoppis hym ledde to kepe in peece;
Six erles in their estate shewid them alle;
And the v. poortis beryng up the palle.
Gracious Werwik, God hym contynue,
Beryng up his trayne in peece and vue.
Alle the barouns of oure londe togidir they were founden,
The juges, the knyghtes of the shire, and the cite of Londen.
This is procession goyng thorughe the halle;
Angelis mete, manna, on his crowne did falle,
And conceyvid in this lande the crowne to encrece,
Evir enduryng with plente and with peece.
The archiebisshope of Cauntirbury appoyntid,
The gracious kyng Harry the sixt he anoyntid
Oure sovereigne lorde in the chief, who wille undirstonde.
The cardynalle tho was on his right hande;
On the toothir side the chaunceller, theis lordes were able,
The bisshope of Beames at the same table.
Huntyngdone kneelyng with his septure on the right honde,
Stafforde with his swerde there woorthyly holdande.
Northfolk as a marschalle fulle woorthyly beknowe,
Ridyng in his office, truly ye may trowe.
Salisbury in Bedforde office present hym there,
Sittyng on a stede, as he conestable were.
The v. poortis on the right hande that the palle beere,
At the boorde on the right hande present they were.
At the next bisshoppis and abbottes togidir were founden;
And on the toothir side the citee of Londoun.
Many oothir lordis were present in that place,
To woorshipe oure soveraigne lorde with alle solace.
Byfore the kyng, with his lordis thus sittyng alle,
Came Phillipe Dymmok ridyng to the halle,
Armyd clene with armure so bright,
Like as perteynethe unto a woorthy knyght,
As the kynges champion by heritage;
There redy his body and his gloove to wage,
Yif there were any man that wille say the contrary,
That kyng Harry the sixt is crownyd truly.
He is redy to delyvir hym, and not abasshe,
By signement of the kyng, tyme and place.
Praye we alle bothe more and lesse,
Crist save Englonde in reste and peece,
And God coomforthe that mykille hathe loost,
That was woon with woorshipe late nevir be loost.