She bless’d herself, and with full piteous voice Unto the cross of Christ thus saidë she; “O dear, O wealful 1540 altar, holy cross, Red of the Lambë’s blood, full of pity, That wash’d the world from old iniquity, Me from the fiend and from his clawës keep, That day that I shall drenchen 1541 in the deep.

“Victorious tree, protection of the true, That only worthy werë for to bear The King of Heaven, with his woundës new, The whitë Lamb, that hurt was with a spear; Flemer 1542 of fiendës out of him and her On which thy limbës faithfully extend, 1543 Me keep, and give me might my life to mend.”