The welspoken Nobody. God that is all good and almyghtye Hath shewed his power upon me Nobodye, For whear my mouth with locke was sparred He hathe it burst and my speche restored, Wherfor I wyll syng prayse unto his name Bicause I may speke withoute anye blame, And thoughe the pope with all his trayn Do me rebuke and against me sayen That as to fore I shuld nowe holde my peace Yet Gods honour to set furth I can not ceasse.
|
Many speke of Roben hoode that never shott in his bowe
|
So many have layed faultes to me, which I did never knowe,
|
But nowe beholde here I am
|
Whom all the worlde doeth diffame
|
Long have they also skorned me
|
And locked my mouthe for speking free
|
As many a Godly man they have so served
|
Which unto them Gods truth hath shewed
|
Of such they have burned and hanged some
|
That unto their ydolatrye wold not come
|
The ladye truthe they have locked in cage
|
Sayeng that of her Nobodye had knowledge
|
For as muche nowe as they name Nobodye
|
I think verilye they speke of me
|
Wherfore to answere I nowe beginne
|
The locke of my mouthe is opened with ginne
|
Wrought by no man, but by Gods grace
|
Unto whom be prayse in every place
|
My Journeyes I make both far and nere
|
To seke whear people Gods justice fear
|
In that place wolde I make my habytation
|
Trusting there to have a continuall mansion
|
In print to fore I did never appere
|
Yet many coulde me not well bear
|
But no marvell for the proverbe sayeth
|
All men can not abyde to here the truthe
|
A companyon must he be with these good fellowes,
|
As long as they wyll have hym in theyr companyes,
|
But sometyme they forget hym, untyll he be
|
Moulded or wormeaten, and than for heresye
|
They do hym burne secretely as in the nyght
|
The Jewes toke Christ, so these by theyr myght
|
Followe the other, beyng sore afrayed,
|
Lest these theyr prankes shuld be bewrayed.
|
In the Dedication daye, than oute of the steple
|
Do they hym hange to espye the people,
|
And with a little bell them for to warne,
|
Because the prestes shuld catche no harme
|
In studiyng Gods worde the flocke to fede.
|
No thys is ynough, they have no other sede
|
To sowe, therfore they shall reap
|
Wynde, as they sowed wynde a great heap.
|
Wo be to me sayth Paule, yf I shuld not preache
|
No sayth the Pope my ceremonyes teache.
|
But what do they teache shew the meanynge?
|
Wel, Gods worde gyveth me smellyng
|
That Paule and your opinyon contrary be,
|
Shuld men leave Paule, and followe the.
|
On relyke Sondayes, than bryng you furth trompery
|
Your relykes must be washen, that water saye yee,
|
Is good for synne and sicknes of beast,
|
Thus of Christes bloude make you a gest
|
So is thy soule spiritually fedde,
|
With Christes moost blessed bodye and bloude,
|
Which for thy synnes was offered on the rode,
|
With whiche oblacyon Gods wrathe is satisfyed
|
Never hereafter to be Reoffered
|
For with one oblacyon by hym self made,
|
He hath made us perfect, therfore be glad,
|
For unto perfection nothyng can be added
|
Where be now suche, as masses have sayed
|
To be propiciatory God them forgeve,
|
And convert theyr hartes, whyles they do lyve
|
That they loke for none other propiciation
|
Than that which Christ made hym self alone,
|
In remembraunce, wherof to confirme our faythe
|
He bade us receyve as the scripture sayeth.
|
Thys holye communyon. No come and see
|
Stare on it (sayeth the Pope) and ones a yere take
|
Nay not so neyghbour take not, but gape.
|
Thy fynger wold rot yf thou touche but the chalyce,
|
O holye Paule, thou bade men be wyse,
|
And ware of suche, as shuld admonysh
|
From handlyng and touchyng, which thynges do perysh,
|
Even with thabuse thou sayest. Well
|
Nowe seynge that all men begyn to smell
|
All you that be prestes I Nobodye praye,
|
To repent and be lerned, resist not I saye
|
|
|
|
|
|