The Creation of Heaven and the Fall of the Rebel Angels

Ego sum alpha et oo, principium et finis.

My name is knowyn, God and kynge.
My werk for to make now wyl I wende.
In myself restyth my reynenge;
It hath no gynnyng ne non ende.
And all þat evyr xal haue beynge,
It is closyd in my mende.
Whan it is made at my lykynge,
I may it save, I may it shende
After my plesawns.
So gret of myth is my pousté,
Allthyng xal be wrowth be me.
I am oo God in personys thre,
Knyt in oo substawns.
I am þe trewe Trenyté
Here walkyng in þis wone.
Thre personys myself I se
Lokyn in me, God alone:
I am þe Fadyr of Powsté;
My Sone with me gynnyth gon;
My Gostis grace in magesté
Weldyth welthe up in hevyn tron.
O God thre I calle:
I am Fadyr of Myth,
My Sone kepyth ryth,
My Gost hath lyth
And grace withalle.
Myself begynnyng nevyr dyd take,
And endeles I am thorw myn owyn myth.
Now wole I begynne my werke to make.
Fyrst I make hevyn with sterrys of lyth,
In myrth and joy euyrmore to wake.
In hevyn I bylde angell ful bryth
My servauntys to be; and for my sake,
With merth and melody [to] worchepe my myth,
I belde them in my blysse.
Aungell in hevyn evyrmore xal be
In lyth ful clere, bryth [of] ble,
With myrth and song to worchip me;
Of joye þei may not mys.

Hic cantent angeli in celo: "Tibi omnes angeli, tibi celi et vniuerse potestates, tibi cherubyn et seraphyn incessabili voce proclamant: Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth."

To whos wurchipe synge 3e þis songe,
To wurchip God or reverens me?
But 3e me wurchipe 3e do me wronge,
For I am þe wurthyest þat evyr may be!
Angell Boni
We wurchipe God of myth most stronge,
Whiche hath formyd bothe vs and the.
We may nevyr wurchyp hym to longe,
For he is most worthy of magesté.
On knes to God we falle.
Oure Lorde God wurchyp we,
And in no wyse honowre we the!
A gretter lord may nevyr non be
Than he þat made us alle.
A wurthyer lorde, forsothe, am I!
And worthyer than he euyr wyl I be.
In evydens þat I am more wurthy,
I wyl go syttyn in Goddys se.
Above sunne, and mone, and sterrys on sky
I am now set, as 3e may se.
Now wurchyp me for most mythty,
And for 3oure lord honowre now me
Syttyng in my sete.
Angell Mali
Goddys myth we forsake,
And for more wurthy we be take.
þe to wurchep honowre we make
And falle down at þi fete.
Thu, Lucyfere, for þi mekyl pryde
I bydde be falle from hefne to helle,
And all þo þat holdyn on þi syde,
In my blysse nevyrmore to dwelle!
At my comawndement anoon down þu slyde,
With merth and joye nevyrmore to melle.
In myschyf and manas evyr xalt þu abyde,
In byttyr brennyng and fyer so felle,
In peyn evyr to be pyht!
At thy byddyng þi wyl I werke,
And pas fro joy to peyne smerte.
Now I am a devyl ful derke,
þat was an aungell bryht.
Now to helle be wey I take,
In endeles peyn þer to be pyht.
For fere of fyre a fart I crake!
In helle donjoon myn dene is dyth.

2019 Nov 25  16:21:41