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Mayden moder milde 
London, British Library, Harley MS 2253, f. 83r



Mayden moder milde,
Oiez cel oreysoun;
From shome thou me shilde
E de ly mal feloun;


Mild virgin mother,
Hear this prayer;
Protect me from shame
And from the Evil One;

For loue of thine childe
Me menez de tresoun;
Ich wes wod ant wilde;
Ore su en prisoun.

Thou art feyr ant fre

For love of your child
Save me from betrayal;
I was mad and wild;
Now I am in captivity.

You are beautiful and noble

10  E plein de doucour;
Of the sprong the ble,
Ly souerein creatour.
Mayde, byseche Y the
Vostre seint socour;
And full of sweetness;
From you sprang the beautiful one,
The sovereign creator.
Virgin, I beseech you
For your holy help; 
15  Meoke ant mylde be with me
Par la sue amour.

Tho Iudas Iesum founde,
Donque ly beysa;
He wes bete ant bounde

Be gentle and mild with me
For his love.

When Judas found Jesus,
Then he kissed him;
He was beaten and tied up,

20 Que nus tous fourma.
Wyde were is wounde
Qe le Gywz ly dona;
He tholede harde stounde
Me poi le greua.
The one who created us all.
His wounds were wide,
Which the Jews gave him;
He suffered brutal ordeals
But it troubled him little.
25  On stou ase thou stode,
Pucele tot pensaunt,
Thou restest the vnder rode,
Ton fitz veites pendant.
Thou seye is sides of blode,
As you stood on the spot,
Virgin, deep in grief,
You rested under the cross,
You saw your son hanging.
You saw his bleeding sides,
30 Lalme de ly partaunt;
He ferede vch an fode
En mound que fust viuaunt.

Ys siden were sore,
Le sang de ly cora;

His soul taking leave;
He caused fear to every creature
Living in the world.

His sides were painful,
His blood flowed;

35 That lond wes forlore,
Mes il le rechata.
Vch bern that wes ybore
En enfern descenda;
He tholede deth ther-fore,
That land was lost,
But he redeemed it.
Every man who was born
Descended into hell;
He suffered death for that,
40 En ciel puis mounta.

Tho Pilat herde the tydynge
Molt fu ioyous baroun;
He lette byfore him brynge
Iesu Nazaroun.

Then ascended into heaven.

When Pilate heard the news,
The lord was overjoyed;
He caused Jesus of Nazareth
To be brought before him.

45 He was ycrouned kynge
Pur nostre redempcioun.
Who-se wol me synge
Auera grant pardoun.


He was crowned king 
For our redemption.
Whoever is willing to sing me
Will receive great forgiveness.

Set up by Bella Millett, enm@soton.ac.uk. Last updated 30 July 2003 .