Some Thoughts on the Middle Ages

My appointment this morning was remarkably short; I doubt whether it lasted even five minutes. It was scheduled for 9.30, but it did not begin on time, though that did not matter as I was lost in thought while waiting. I then went to St James the Less & St Helena Church in Priory Street, where I meditated upon the Presentation of our Lord in the Temple for a quarter of an hour. I am now in the library; it took me some time to get this computer to load, and I am only allowed an hour on it. While I was waiting for it to work, I got the Oxford Book of Medieval English Verse off the shelf; I read "Of one that is so fair and bright," which is surely one of the most beautiful hymns ever written. It is one of those bilingual hymns like "In dulci jubilo," which prove that the imaginary medieval ignoramus was not as ignorant of Latin as our Protestant and secular historians are so fond of believing.

OF one that is so fair and bright,
Velud maris stella,
Brighter than the dayës light,
Parens et puella,
Ich crie to thee; thou see to me!
Levedy, pray thy Sone for me,
Tam pia,
That ich motë come to thee,
Maria.

Levedy, flowr of allë thing,
Rosa sine spina,
Thou berë Jesui, Hevenë-King,
Gratia divina.
Of allë thou berst the pris,
Levedy, quene of Parays
Electa.
Maidë mildë moder is
Effecta.

Of carë conseil thou art best,
Felix fecundata;
Of allë wery thou art rest,
Mater honorata.
Bisek Him with mildë mood
That for us allë shad His blood
In cruce
That we moten comen til Him
In luce.

Al this woreld war forlore
Eva peccatrice,
Til our Loverd was y-bore
De te genitrice.
With 'ave' it went away
Thuster night, and comth the day
Salutis;
The wellë springeth out of thee
Virtutis.

Wel He wot He is thy Sone
Ventre quem portasti;
He wil nought wernë thee thy bone,
Parvum quem lactasti.
So hende and so good He is,
He haveth brought us to blis
Superni,
That haves y-dit the foulë pit
Inferni.