Classic Poem

I conjour hem in the name of the Fader, and Sone, and Holy Gost;
In hem is vertu althermost!
In the beginning and in the ending,
And in the vertu of all thing
Is, and was, and ever schal be —
In the vertu of the Holy Trinitee —
By the vertu of every Masse,
That ever was seyde, more and lasse —
In the vertu of herbe, grass, ston, and tree —
And in the vertu that ever may be.

If here come eny fon
Me to robbe, other me to sclon;
They stond as stille as eny ston,
They have no powere away to gon,
By the vertu of the Holy Trinitee,
Tille they have life of me.
Lord Jesu, graunte me this,
As ye ben in heven bliss.