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[1] Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide, Hou long turmente ye my soule, [2] and al to-breken me with wordis? [3] Lo! ten sithis ye schenden me, and ye ben not aschamed, oppressynge me. [4] Forsothe and if Y `koude not, myn vnkynnyng schal be with me. [5] And ye ben reisid ayens me, and repreuen me with my schenschipis. [6] Nameli now vndurstonde ye, that God hath turmentid me not bi euene doom, and hath cumpassid me with hise betyngis. [7] Lo! Y suffrynge violence schal crye, and no man schal here; Y schal crye loude, and `noon is that demeth. [8] He bisette aboute my path, and Y may not go; and he settide derknessis in my weie. [9] He hath spuylid me of my glorye, and hath take awey the coroun fro myn heed. [10] He hath distried me on ech side, and Y perischide; and he hath take awei myn hope, as fro a tre pullid vp bi the roote. [11] His stronge veniaunce was wrooth ayens me; and he hadde me so as his enemye. [12] Hise theues camen togidere, and `maden to hem a wei bi me; and bisegiden my tabernacle in cumpas. [13] He made fer my britheren fro me; and my knowun as aliens yeden awei fro me. [14] My neiyboris forsoken me; and thei that knewen me han foryete me. [15] The tenauntis of myn hows, and myn handmaydis hadden me as a straunger; and Y was as a pilgrym bifor her iyen. [16] Y clepide my seruaunt, and he answeride not to me; with myn owne mouth Y preiede hym. [17] My wijf wlatide my breeth; and Y preiede the sones of my wombe. [18] Also foolis dispisiden me; and whanne Y was goon awei fro hem, thei bacbitiden me. [19] Thei, that weren my counselouris sum tyme, hadden abhomynacioun of me; and he, whom Y louede moost, was aduersarie to me. [20] Whanne fleischis weren wastid, my boon cleuyde to my skyn; and `oneli lippis ben left aboute my teeth. [21] Haue ye merci on me, haue ye merci on me, nameli, ye my frendis; for the hond of the Lord hath touchid me. [22] Whi pursuen ye me, as God pursueth; and ben fillid with my fleischis? [23] Who yyueth to me, that my wordis be writun? Who yyueth to me, [24] that tho be writun in a book with an yrun poyntil, ethir with a plate of leed; ethir with a chisel be grauun in a flynt? [25] For Y woot, that myn ayenbiere lyueth, and in the laste dai Y schal rise fro the erthe; [26] and eft Y schal be cumpassid with my skyn, and in my fleisch Y schal se God, my sauyour. [27] Whom Y my silf schal se, and myn iyen schulen biholde, and not an other man. This myn hope is kept in my bosum. [28] Whi therfor seien ye now, Pursue we hym, and fynde we the roote of a word ayens hym? [29] Therfor fle ye fro the face of the swerd; for the swerd is the vengere of wickidnessis, and wite ye, that doom schal be.
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Author: John Wycliffe (1328 – 1384)
 
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