Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FIVE JOYS OF THE VIRGIN MARY, by RICHARD ROLLE OF HAMPOLE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FIVE JOYS OF THE VIRGIN MARY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Full many a man a song doth find / for her who gladdens all mankind
Last Line: E'en in our utmost need.
Subject(s): Mary. Mother Of Jesus; Women - Bible; Virgin Mary


FULL many a man a song doth find
For her who gladdens all mankind
And once was born on earth;
Yet, tho' all men who speak with tongue
Should sound her praise in joyous song,
Still more should be her worth!

Angels on high their voices raise,
As Queen of Heaven show forth her praise,
And find in her their bliss;
Earth doth her as Our Lady own,
And throughout Hell her power is known,
For Empress there she is.

The cause of all this dignity,
Her pureness and humility,
And God's Almighty Grace,
Whereby she bare high Heaven's King;
So men may worthy worship bring
To her, in every place.

All that is on, or under, mold
How might they now from her withhold
The reverence that is meet,
When He, Who rules the world alway
Himself doth homage to her pay
As this, His mother sweet?

And many a virgin now doth fare
Who doth God in her spirit bear
And in her holy thought,
But she, who never man had known,
In deed, and not in thought alone,
Her God to birth hath brought.

Of her, from whom God flesh did take
A fitting song how might I make
Whose life so foul hath been?
Yet Sister, thou dost bid me sing,
And in one song together bring
These, her Five Joys, I ween.

That such a song be made by me
Who an unlearned man shall be,
In sooth, I dare not say,
I trust me to Our Lady still,
And make it as shall be her will
To teach me that same Lay.

As in our Creed we well may see
Her joys so manifold they be,
None may them rightly tell,
Such joy she hath thro' her dear Son,
As never by mankind was won,
No tongue may speak the spell.

Four Joys, they were her portion here
Thro' Grace of Him, her Son so dear,
The Gospel bids us know,
Ano all from that same Fount of bliss
Whereof she now doth joy, I wis,
As streams from well they flow.

The well of Paradise, I ween,
Hath of this same a token been
With its fair rivers four,
That watered all that goodly ground,
And never mortal man hath found
The measure of its store.

This well is God Himself, made Man,
And all her joys from Him they ran,
In four-fold fashion sped;
First when she did her Child conceive,
And Gabriel must high Heaven leave
As messenger, that stead,

To bring her tidings great that morn
How Christ of her would fain be born
Man's guilt to wipe away,
To bring mankind from out of Hell --
What heart may think, or tongue may tell
The joy she felt that day?

In Nazareth, that goodly town,
There Gabriel, he 'lighted down,
"Ave Maria!" his cry,
He gave that maiden greeting fair,
And unto her a gift he bare
From God in Heaven high.

In her would God His dwelling make,
There flesh and blood of her to take
E'en as the angel said;
Nor she a man should know, I trow,
Nor break in any wise her vow,
But still abide a maid.

Saint John the Baptist knew that same,
Whenas she to his mother came,
Sprang when he heard her voice;
Elizabeth knew well that tide
How the babe moved beneath her side,
And there would fain rejoice.

More cause, Our Lady, then had she,
Joyous and blithe I ween, to be,
Without or pride or boast,
For well she knew the truth, I wot,
And wist full well He was begot
Of God the Holy Ghost.

And Joseph dealt as man so mild,
For that he wist she was with child
Alone he'ld go his way,
He would not that she should be slain,
Nor by the law be judged, and ta'en,
And stoned with stones alway.

And Joseph, he was blithe that night
Whenas there came an angel bright
To give assurance still;
And blither far was she, that may,
For she was comforted all day
With angels, at her will.

To this First Joy, of which I speak,
We count her joy of forty weeks
The while she went with child;
Within her womb, as at that same,
The unicorn, He waxed full tame,
That erstwhile was so wild.

The Second Joy, it was her lot
When Jesus, He was born, I wot,
Upon the Christmas night,
With never sorrow, never sore --
And so shall never woman more
Who is for child-birth dight.

For e'en as she did first conceive,
Nor sin its stain upon her leave,
From fleshly lust was freed;
Therefore her Child, to birth He won
As thro' the glass doth pass the sun
Nor opening doth need.

In swaddling bands she did Him dight,
As it shall be for children right,
And gave Him suck anon;
Tho' He was born in dark of night
Yet was there never lack of light
For Heaven itself looked on.

In beam of light an angel came
Into the field of Bethlehem,
The shepherd-folk among,
The tidings of Christ's Birth he bore --
Therewith came singing many more,
Of angels a great throng.

I trow those words he spake full well
"Gratia plena," Gabriel,
That meaneth, "full of Grace;"
They sang of glory great above,
And peace our portion, for her love,
The angels in that place.

The ox and ass, amid the straw,
Whereas they their Creator saw
There, 'mid their food to lie,
Altho' unknowing beasts were they
Yet they rejoiced in their own way,
And language, verilie.

And when it came to the eighth day
He did the Jewish law obey,
Was circumcised aright,
Jesus, they called His name that morn,
As angels, ere that He was born,
Had said He should be hight.

Mary with mickle joy espied
Three Kings, as they did thither ride
From Eastern lands afar,
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh, they bring,
Since He was Lord, of kings the King,
As tokened by the Star.

When He was offered fittingly
Within the templo Domini
E'en as the law did say,
The old man, Simeon, on high
He spake of Him a prophecy
As in his arms He lay.

When He had but twelve winters told,
Seated among the masters old,
Altho' He softly spake,
Men held it for a marvel fair,
To all the clerks who questioned there
An answer could He make.

Thus virtue crowned His Childhood's hour,
And so He waxed to Manhood's power,
In Jordan's stream, aright
He was baptized; from Heaven above
The Father spake, in form of Dove
The Holy Ghost did 'light.

And to this Joy we count them all,
The joys, that to her lot did fall
Of this, her Child, so good,
E'en from the day that He was born
To save mankind that was forlorn
Until He died on Rood.

A Third Joy must Our Lady's be
When she the Risen Christ did see
From Death's hard bondage wend,
From out the grave wherein He lay
As it befell on the third day
After His Life did end.

What joy of Him might she have more
After such grief and suffering sore
As she had seen with eye,
Than thus in life her Son to see,
And know He aye alive should be
And never more might die?

That He was Life, and Strength, and Might,
That did He show on Easter night
Ere darkness passed away,
And all the Earth, I trow, did quake,
And Heaven above did joyful make
His Resurrection Day!

For thence came angels, white in weed,
Who said that Christ was Risen indeed,
She saw that they spake true;
That in the grave no more He lay --
Lest any should their word gainsay
The stone they overthrew.

By these, His Manhood's deeds, she knew
"Dominus tecum" to be true,
As erst the angel said,
That is to say "God is with thee,"
And here in truth and verity
The Godhead was displayed.

Nor was she lonely in her bliss,
But shared it with her friends, I wis
It was so much the more;
For gladness sure doth seem more fair
When with ourfriends the same we share
After we've sorrowed sore.

Ah! blithe I trow they well may be
Their Living Lord again to see,
Amid them had He been!
First showed Himself, for our relief,
To her, of penitents the chief,
To Mary Magdalene;

To Peter next, then unto all --
Thomas of Ynde, to doubt a thrall,
His Wounds hath felt that stound,
And handling flesh, and bone, and blood,
He cried aloud, as there he stood,
"My Lord I here have found!"

Our Lord made answer swift, I ween:
"Thou dost believe since thou hast seen
And touched Me as I stand;
My Blessing, Thomas, here I leave
To those who, seeing not, believe,
Nor crave to touch with hand!"

And to this Joy I count as well
All other joys whereof they tell
Body or soul's content,
From this, Christ's Resurrection Day,
Till His Ascension came alway
When forty days were spent.

The Fourth Joy, as I now will tell,
Upon the Holy Thursday fell
Upon a mountain high,
Jesus she saw, Who was her Son,
And flesh and blood from her had won,
Ta'en up into the sky.

All joy, I trow, was hers that tide
When she our kinsman thus espied,
Jesus, her own dear Son,
Thus rise into high Heaven's bliss,
A worthy home to make, I wis,
Where she might dwell anon.

Yet were it not enough, I ween,
That this, her place, prepared had been
Thus high in Heavenly bliss,
But also ours, there is none other,
For that He is so kind a Brother
As we believe, I wis!

Nor doth He will a long delay,
But we to Him shall go our way
Whenas we hence shall win,
Save that to Him we be unkind,
And bear not this, His Love, in mind,
But grieve Him by our sin.

Yet is He mild, and spareth some --
As He went hence, so shall He come
On Doomsday, with great light,
To try of every man his deed,
And then, according to his meed,
Judgment to give aright.

There is no better counsel here
Than thus to be Christ's comrades dear
In Heavenly Bliss, for aye,
From stain of sin we needs must flee,
And pray God, and Our sweet Ladie,
To be our help, alway.

Her power shall ne'er the lesser be,
Above all others blest is she,
Be they, or wife, or maid,
As this, the Gospel telleth us,
"Benedicta tu in mulieribus,"
Elizabeth, she said.

And all her joys at Pentecost,
And other joys, both least and most,
That did on earth befall,
Since Christ's Ascension, with that same,
Until her own Assumption came,
I here include them all.

The Fifth Joy of Our Lady dear
No tongue of man may speak it here,
Thereof no more descry,
Save that the glorious Bride, at last,
From out this world in glory passed
With sweetest melody.

Unknown to man the mode, for sure,
The office of her sepulture
Was all in heavenly wise,
And duller man to heavenly speech
Than beast, that man were fain to teach
Reason, in human wise.

Therefore thereof is nothing writ,
For man thereof knows naught, to wit,
So lofty is the theme;
But Holy Church right well doth know
To feel of death no mortal throe
Doth such a life beseem.

We find it writ that angels bright
Do at a good man's death alight
Who here on earth doth lie,
From Holy Writ we apprehend
That God Himself, He would descend
Whenas she came to die.

Thereby, I trow, we well may wit,
Tho' there be naught in Holy Writ,
That Christ Himself was there,
And Heaven's host with Him that day,
Our Lady sweet to lead away
Lest fiends to touch her dare.

Thus, brethren dear, did she ascend,
With soul and body heavenward wend,
For Christ is true, and kind,
That flesh wherefrom He Flesh did take
Should it its grave 'mid others make
Nor greater honour find?

So I dare say, and with good right,
That all the Court of Heaven did 'light
When she from hence would fare,
And Christ Himself, He came that day,
Body and soul He bare away
His dwelling-place to share.

There doth she reign as Queen, sans end,
I pray her grace to us she send
Who these her joys now tell;
I trust from sin she 'll keep us still,
For He is fain to do her will
Who is of joy the well.

For of her womb the Fruit is He
Whereby the angels nourished be,
Who is our holy Food;
Elizabeth hath spoken this --
"Et benedictus fructus ventris
Tui, Jesus" the good!

Now this my song to end is brought,
As thou, my Sister, hast besought,
And as I best might speed;
To Heaven's Queen now pray and sing,
That us from pain and loss she bring,
E'en in our utmost need.




Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net