"Edi beo þu, Hevene Quene" - "Blessed be you, Heaven’s Queen" - Middle English Gymel

[@vincentwhite938]

A very nice piece

[@balladsofhistory]

For those interested in comparing the Middle English lyrics to Old English:
Ēadig bēo þū, heofonlic cwēne, 
Folces frowe and engles blis, 
Modor un-wemmed and mǣġden clēne, 
Swilc on worulde oðerre nis. 
On hīe hit is wel ēaþe seah, 
Wiþ ǣlcre wīfmannum þū hafast onfeng; 
Mīn swēte hlǣfdīġe, hīer mīn bene 
And hrēowan tō me ġif þīn willa is.
Blōstma ānum ūt stocce sproten, 
Se hālga Gāst þē reste upon; 
Þæt wǣre mancynne bōte 
And hira sāwlum tō lȳsannen on. 
Hlǣfdīġan milde and sōfte and swóte, 
Iċ bidde árna, iċ am thi mann, 
Beġen mid handum and mid fōtum, 
On ǽlce wísan þe iċ cann.
(First two stanzas)

[@biaispravda]

Edi beo thu, Hevene Queene,
Folkes froure and engles blis,
Maiden unwemmed and moder clene,
Swich in world non other nis.
On thee hit is wel eth sene,
Of all wimmen thu havest thet pris;
Mi swete levedi, her mi bene
And reu of me yif thi wille is.
Spronge blostme of one rote,
The Holi Gost thee reste upon;
Thet wes for monkunnes bote
And heore soule to alesen for on.
Levedi milde, softe and swote,
Ic crie thee merci, ic am thi mon,
Bothe to honde and to fote,
On alle wise that ic kon.
Thu ert eorthe to gode sede;
On thee lighte the heovene deugh,
Of thee sprong theo edi blede
The Holi Gost hire on thee seugh.
Thu bring us ut of care of drede
That Eve bitterliche us breugh.
Thu sschalt us into heovene lede;
Welle swete is the ilke deugh.
Moder, ful of thewes hende,
Maide dreigh and wel itaucht,
Ic em in thine love bende,
And to thee is al mi draucht.
Thu me sschildghe from the feonde,
Ase thu ert freo, and wilt and maucht
And help me to mi lives ende,
And make me with thin sone isaught.