The remors of conscyence Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with the remors of mannes conscynce to the regarde of the bounte of our lorde. Lichfield, William, d. 1448. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A10608 of text S100440 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 20881.3). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 15 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 7 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A10608 STC 20881.3 ESTC S100440 99836280 99836280 540 2240887284

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A10608) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 540) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1360:11) The remors of conscyence Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with the remors of mannes conscynce to the regarde of the bounte of our lorde. Lichfield, William, d. 1448. [12+] p. Wynkyn de Worde, [London : ca. 1510] By William Lichfield. Some manuscript texts are titled "The complaynt of God". In verse. Woodcut illustration on title page. Imprint from STC. Formerly STC 20883. In this edition, title page line 4 begins: remors. Imperfect; lacks all after a6. Reproduction of the original in Cambridge University Library. eng Conscience -- Early works to 1800. eebo The remors of conscyence. Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with the remors of mannes conscynce to the regar Lichfield, William, 1500 14 2250 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2009-12 Assigned for keying and markup 2009-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2010-02 Sampled and proofread 2010-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2010-04 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The remors of conscyence .

Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with the remors of mannes conscyence to the regarde of the bounte of our lorde .

Deus . OVr gracyous god moost in magnyfycence His mercyfull eyen casteth from heuen on hy Seynge his creatures in deedly vyolence Hymselfe complayneth by pyte full ruthfully Saynge o man deuoyde of intellygence Open thyn eeres vnto my call and cry And tell me yf I haue done to the offence That thou forsakest me wyllyngly Man suche a loue to the I dyde take This worlde in seuen dayes whan I it wrought Thou was the last thynge that I dyde make Bycause I wolde thou wanted nought What thynge the myght helpe dyde not lake That at thy nede yf it were sought Fowle / fysshe all thynge for thy sake For thy comforte all was forth brought Moreouer I gaue the that dygnyte All beestes to bowe the vntyll I made the also lyke vnto me And gaue the connynge and free wyll Me to serue that thou sholde se To chose the good and leue the yll I aske no thynge agayne of the But loue thy souerayne as it is skyll But vnto this takest thou none entente Thou tournest fro me full vnkyndly On loues vnlefull thy loue is lente Thy herte beholdeth not heuen so hye For all the goodes I haue the sente The lysteth not ones to saye gramercye In tyme to come or thou repente Man make amendes or that thou dye Homo . A crysten soule conceyued in synne Receyued in conscyence thus complaynynge He fell downe flatte with dolefull dynne And sayd lorde mercy souerayne kynge I moost vnkynde wretche of man kynne I knowe I am thy traytour vntrue in my lyuynge This wycked lyfe that I lyue in I may it nought hyde from thy knowynge I want wordes and also wytte Of thy kyndnesse to speke a clause That I haue thou gaue me it Of thy goodnes withouten cause Though I haue greued the and do yet Thy benefaytes thou nought withdrawse I haue deserued to haue hell pytte So haue I lyued ayenst thy lawse But forde thou knowest mannes feblenesse How frayle it is and hath ben aye For though the soule haue thy lykeuesse Man is but fulsome erth and claye In synne conceyued and wretchednesse And to the soule rebell alwaye Fyrst a man groweth as dooth gresse And he wasteth after as floures or haye Syth man is than so frayle a thynge And thy power so grete in kynde This worlde is but a twynkelynge Thou mayst destroye the myght of the fende With thy ryght lorde mercy mynge And to my sore salue thou sende Sore me repenteth of my mystyuynge Mercy lorde I wyll amende Deus . Man I gaue the bodyly hele That thou sholde it spende in my seruyce Fayrenes also and fetures fele Man what doost thou with all thyse Thou with delytes of the deuyll doost dele Whiche is to me a grete despyse Thou lyuest a lecherous lyfe vnlele Fro yere to yere thou lyst not ryse Thou studyest after nyce araye And makest grete cost on thy clothynge To make the semely as who sholde saye Thou coudest amende my makynge Thou purposest the daye by daye To set my people to synnynge Thy wretched wyll thou folowest alwaye What ende synne hath thou thynkest no thynge In Noes tyme bycause of synne And for lecherye in especyall What vengeaunce came than to mannes kynne Saue .viii. persones drowned were all On sodome and gomor and the men within How I made fyre and brymstone fall Fro heuen on them that bode therin For synne were destroyed bothe grete & small Man wenest thou my myght be lesse Than it was than or that elles I Thou hast now as moche wyckednesse As whan I smote the moost pyteousty But yf thou wyll thy fautes redresse Though I now spare for my mercy Man thynke on my ryghtwysnesse And make amendes or that thou dye a .iii. Homo . I wote well lorde ryghtfull thou arte And that synne must be punyshed nede But one thynge holdeth in hope my herte Thy mercy paseth my mysdede I knowe well that I may not sterte I haue so done me ought to drede With beaute and with hodely quarte To serue the I haue taken no hede I haue myspended my yonge age In synne and wantonnesse also To serue god slowe / and loued to rage A gloton / a lechour I was bothe two I am worthy none other wage But for to dwell in endlesse woo Alas why haue I ben outrage And serued the fende that is my foo But lorde in holy wryte rede we That thou forsakest no wretched wyght That leueth his synne and tourneth to the And to tourne to the haue I hyght Full proude and rebell haue I bene But now I take me to thy myght From hens for warde to be clene Ayenst myn owne flesshe to fyght My flesshe to feble I wyll fast My bones to trauayle and to tene And thrugh thy grace I am not agast What fore and sekenesse on me be sene To suffre whyle my lyfe may last For vtterly I wyll attende To punysshe that I haue trespast Mercy I hesu I wyll amende Deus . Man I haue sente the syluer and golde And all thy welth within thy wone To susteyne the and thy housholde And also other many one Thou myght haue holpen yonge and olde That ben dyseased and woobe gone My seruauntes suffred bothe hungre and colde Relefe of the yet haue they none If thou gyue for my loue a farthynge Thou doost it with an heuy herte In almesse thou gyuest no thynge For drede thou fall in pouerte In flesshely luste and worldly lykynge What euer thou wastest mery thou arte Of suche I wyll haue a rekenynge At domes daye thou shalte not astarte Than shalte thou gyue a countes full streyte How thou comest by thy good eche dele Whether with trouth or with deceyte And how thou spende it yll or we le None other grace thou after wayte As thou hast wrought so shalte thou fele What shall than profyte thy good in plate Or poundes that thou of the people pele A clene conscyence shall that daye More profyte the and more set by Than all the goodes or the monaye Than euer was vnder heuen or skye It wyll neuer helpe to plete nor praye For as ryght wyse than deme wyll I And therfore man whyles thou may Make amendes or that thou dye Homo . I wote well lorde fro yere to yere Full gretely greued I the haue That I wolde nor thy mercy were My moders wombe had be my graue For what profyteth my lyuynge here But afterwarde I sholde be saue But Ihesu as thou bought me dere Leue not my soule in hell caue My waste expense I wyll withdrawe For waste well called may it be For it was spended my boost to lawe My name to bere on londe and se Well I wote me there not trowe Thought many a man of my countre If they me mette they dyde me not knowe Nor neuer yet herde speke of me Falsly I haue wrought as wretche vnwyse I myght haue goten me moche mede Had I it spente in goddes seruyce But thorugh thy grace lorde I am in drede As men that lyeth and may not ryse For haue I and myn all our nede With the remenaunt lorde at thy deuyse The poore and naked with cloth and fere Seke men that lyen in goddes bandes That haue no syluer for to spende And prysoners bounde bothe fete and handes Ofte to vysyte and them attende Whan Ise them that in nede standes Suche as I haue I shall them sende Lorde let these werkes lesse my bande And mercy Ihesu I wyll amende Deus . Man yf thou amendes wylte make Gyue thyn almesse of thyn owne goodes And sethou werkes no man to wrake To venge ony other mennes modes If thou vntruly from ony take And therwith fynde forty theyr fodes Suche sacrefyce I forsake They be to me as soure as wormewode The poore people thou doost oppresse With sleyghtes and wyles many one Thou makest chyrches and do synge messe Thou mendest wayes where men ouer gone And some men curse and some men blesse Whiche shall I here of these two If thou wylte haue grace as I gesse Let all falsnes be fledde the fro The mothes that thy clothes ete And thou lettest poore men go bare Thy drynke soureth and mouleth thy mete Wherwith the poore man myght well fare The rust that thy syluer dooth frete Thy goodes that euyll goten are They crye on the vengeaunce grete The for to spyll but yet I spare Withholdest here ayenst the ryght From thy seruauntes vpon the crye Man oftentymes thou hast me hyght Thou wolde amende and leue foly Thou spekest full fayre bothe daye & nyght Thou brekest my commaundementes contynually Yet is me lothe with the to fyght But make amendes or that thou dye Homo . Swete lorde I may not agaynst saye I haue not holden that I the hyght I greue the gretely euery daye I do not as I had the plyght I wolde do well but welawaye With enemyes I am euer beset Whan my soule fayne wolde the paye My flesshe is fyrst that wyll me let And euer the fatter that I it fede Euer the fressher it is my foo Yet bere it aboute I must nede Full feble it is it wyll me sloo The worlde / the fende / the flesshe they bede Some with well and some with woo What may I do with a wycked wede To fyght ayenst thre enemyes soo Whan I enforce me otherwhyles And thynke I wyll lyue a true lyue And forsake all batayles and gyles The worlde byddeth me batayle belyue And but I wyll vse wrethes and wyles The comyn voyce is I shall not tryue Some me scorneth and at me smyles And counte me but a kynde caytyue But now I thynke withstondynge this To forsake falsnes withouten ende And restore that I toke amys And paye my dettes fayre and hende And to rewarde eche man his As reason is than wyll I spende And gyue myn almesse there nede is Mercy Ihesu I wyll amende Deus . Man I haue sente the kyndly syght And vnderstandynge skyll and wytte To rule thy selfe by reason ryght As reherfeth holy wrytte That clerely sheweth the godly lyght How thou sholde deedly synne forsake And on that maner thou please me myght What ayleth the thus fro me to shake Worldly rychesse ryall repayre In welth and thynges of Iolyte Fysshes beestes and byrdes of the ayre These thynketh me semely for to se That thynge that perissheth & dooth appayre Vnto thy syght thus pleasynge be Well mayst thou wytre I am full fayre Of whome eche thynge hath this beaute But man as thou wytlesse were Thou lokest aye downwarde as a beest It behoueth the of me to here Foule spekynge is to the a feest I comforte the I make the chere And thou in wardly louest me leest I call the to me yere by yere Thou wylte not come at my request As fro thy foo thou fro me flees I folowe the fast and on the crye Thou wrappest the with all vanytees And thynke my speche to the but folye And a thynge that nought is thou wylte lese My Ioye that lasteth endlesly Man yet vyce leue and vertue chese And make amendes or that thou dye Homo . Swete Ihesu none answere I can But ofte crye mercy with herte stable Alas for woo why is a man Worse than a beest vnreasonable All beestes sythen the worlde began In kyndely werkynge ben durable Saue onely I of wyll wan That do full many dedes dampnable I was made to knowe my maker And to loue hym ouer all thynge And I a sleper and neuer waker To take kynde knowynge of my kynge To tryfles haue I ben a grete hede taker A songe of sorowe may I synge For had I ben of synne a forsaker Of cryste sholde I haue had some knowynge My ghoostly eyen ben full of duste Cursed couetyse hath blynded me They ben blodeshotten with flesshely luste That heuenly kynge may I not se But lorde though I haue ben vniuste Thorough helpe of thy benygnyte I hope to rubbe awaye the ruste With repentaunce and grace of the And where that I haue afore this My wyll in worlde thynge haue spende From hens forwarde my purpose is Thy lawe to lerne to my lyues ende Thy .x. commaundementes truly ywys Them to kepe I wyll me bende And there as I haue done amys Mercy Ihesu I wyll amende