The minister and norice* unto vices, *nurse Which that men call in English idleness, The porter at the gate is of delices;* *delights T’eschew, and by her contrar’ her oppress, — That is to say, by lawful business,* — *occupation, activity Well oughte we to *do our all intent* *apply ourselves* Lest that the fiend through idleness us hent.
* *seize For he, that with his thousand cordes sly Continually us waiteth to beclap,* *entangle, bind When he may man in idleness espy, He can so lightly catch him in his trap, Till that a man be hent* right by the lappe,** *seize **hem He is not ware the fiend hath him in hand; Well ought we work, and idleness withstand.
And though men dreaded never for to die, Yet see men well by reason, doubteless, That idleness is root of sluggardy, Of which there cometh never good increase; And see that sloth them holdeth in a leas,* *leash <2> Only to sleep, and for to eat and drink, And to devouren all that others swink.
* *labour And, for to put us from such idleness, That cause is of so great confusion, I have here done my faithful business, After the Legend, in translation Right of thy glorious life and passion, — Thou with thy garland wrought of rose and lily, Thee mean I, maid and martyr, Saint Cecilie.
And thou, thou art the flow’r of virgins all, Of whom that Bernard list so well to write, <3> To thee at my beginning first I call; Thou comfort of us wretches, do me indite Thy maiden’s death, that won through her merite Th’ eternal life, and o’er the fiend victory, As man may after readen in her story.
Thou maid and mother, daughter of thy Son, Thou well of mercy, sinful