An Anglo-Saxon Prayer to St Alphege

Alphege window, Canterbury Cathedral

16 November is a feast shared by two medieval English saints: St Margaret of Scotland, one of my favourites, and Oxford's own St Edmund Rich. But before it was their feasts - in fact, before either of those people was born - today was kept in eleventh-century Canterbury as the feast of the ordination of St Alphege. By the middle of the eleventh century the recently-martyred archbishop Alphege already had two perfectly good feasts, in April and in June (his death and translation, respectively), but when you have such a martyr to commemorate you can hardly go overboard, I suppose. Eleventh-century Canterbury, especially during the reign of Edward the Confessor, was not so secure that it could afford to neglect its heavenly patrons. The ordination feast was probably introduced some time between the return of Alphege's body to Canterbury in 1023 and the Norman Conquest; it might be a legacy of Archbishop Æthelnoth the Good, who was responsible for bringing Alphege's relics back to the city he had left in 1011 as the prisoner of a Viking fleet.

In the middle years of the eleventh century, some prayers for a variety of purposes were added to a splendid Psalter which had been made at Canterbury c.1012-23, which is now British Library, Arundel 155. These prayers, some 44 of them, are in Latin with an interlinear Old English gloss. They've been published in two batches, the first group by Ferdinand Holthausen in 'Altenglische Interlinearversionen lateinischer Gebete und Beichten', Anglia 65 (1941), 230-54, and the rest by Jackson J. Campbell in 'Prayers from Ms. Arundel 155' Anglia 81 (1963), 82-177. Among these prayers are two addressed to Canterbury's chief saints, Dunstan and Alphege, and since I'm working on these saints at the moment I've made a translation of these prayers for my own use. I thought for St Alphege's (third) feast-day I'd post my translation of the prayer to the saint, though for the Latin and English text you'll have to search out Campbell's article. This prayer appears in ff. 186-7 of the manuscript, pp. 95-9 in Campbell.

There's one particularly interesting thing to note about this prayer. The name Alphege was naturally left untranslated by the person who made the Old English gloss, but more than a century later another hand came along and updated the prayer to adapt it for Canterbury's newest martyr - every instance of Alphege in the Latin was glossed instead with Thoma, for Thomas Becket. Becket himself apparently endorsed such a parallel between himself and the Anglo-Saxon martyr, when he spoke about Alphege in the sermon he preached on Christmas Day 1170, four days before his own martyrdom: "You already have a martyr here," he said, "Alphege, beloved of God, a true saint. The Divine Mercy will provide another for you; it will not delay." After Thomas' death it would have seemed natural to the monks to link Canterbury's two martyrs by reusing a prayer to the earlier saint. So this is a multi-purpose prayer, and a good example of an Anglo-Saxon manuscript which continued to be in use for a long time after its English glossing would have become archaic.

My thoughts and my desires I make known to you in sorrow and anguish, beloved of God, holy father Alphege. I wish that I could express with mouth or lips how in my inmost heart I pour out prayers to God and to you, and crave merciful pardon from God through your intercession. I know myself to be guilty, gracious father Alphege, and my sins to be more numerous than I can bring to mind or count. To God and to you I confess, therefore, all my life's deeds, which are known to God, and which I cannot conceal or amend, if not for the grace of God and, St Alphege, your interceding mercy.

Holy father Alphege, wicked is my life in the sight of God, stained is my soul with wrongful thoughts and all vices of sins, at the guilt of which my own conscience is offended. Far from me are truth and mercy, if it were not that he, the Saviour of mankind, coming down from the heavens, forbade despair and promised forgiveness to sinners. Long ago he would not suffer delays in the destruction of my weakness, that I fall not into despair. But because it is good to hope in the Lord, and blessed are all they who trust in him, with mind and with body, prostrate before God and you, with humble devotion I crave your merciful protection, holy father Alphege, that, with strength and honour greatly shining forth on earth, through your intervention in heaven you reconcile me, your servant, with God, and redeem me from all sins by your gracious intercession. O noble father Alphege, jewel of bishops and glorious beauty of Christ Church, hear sinful me humbly praying to you, and unceasingly plead for my offences to the blessed Saviour. Holy father Alphege, implore the Lord that he keep far from wretched me sinful lusts and wicked desires, and turn wrongful thoughts away from me, and deliver me from every pollution of the devil and his ministers, that I may become worthily pleasing to God, and fittingly perform this with all love for God and for you.

I pray also through you, holy father Alphege, to all the blessed host of saintly martyrs, who by their steadfast faith and shedding of their blood have achieved heavenly rewards, that supported by the protection of so many saints in this present life I may leave and shun all things which are harmful to the body and the soul, and love Christ entirely with a pure mind, and steadfastly endure in the Lord's commands. And, thus enduring, intercede for me, holy father Alphege, that Christ the Lord may grant that I may deserve to come to eternal bliss, where health, life and joy endure for all those beloved of God, through all ages of ages.

The prayer, Arundel 155 f. 182

I particularly like the last section here, where the petitioner asks for grace to steadfastly perseverare 'endure, continue' in God's commands (þurhwunian is the Old English word), so that he may come to the place where salus, vita et felicitas (hæl, lif and gesælhþ) perseverat, þurhwunaþ, endure for ever.

Here's a flavour of one of this prayer's elegant sentences, first in Latin:

Sed quia bonum est sperare in domino et beati omnis qui confidunt in illum, mente et corpore, et domino et tibi prostratus supplici devotione piam paternitatem tuam sancte pater...

And in Old English (bearing in mind it's a gloss, so the word order is determined by the Latin):

ac forþi god ys hihtan on drihtan, 7 eadige ealle þa þe truwiaþ on hine, mid geþance 7 mid lichaman, 7 gode 7 þe nyþerastreht mid eadmodre estfulnesse milde mundbyrde þine sancte pater...

Calendar for November in Arundel 155, f. 7, showing the feast of the ordination of St Alphege

By way of comparison, this is the prayer to St Alphege with which Osbern concludes his Life of the saint.

Alphege, great soldier of a great King, who washed your robe in the blood of Almighty God, accept the prayers of the sons who cry to you, and by your gracious intercession raise up those whom you have honoured by your holy Passion. Made strong by divine assistance, you overcame the prince of death; father, strengthen us against him, and help us to vanquish him. You had mercy on those who stoned you; have mercy on those who pray to you, that the fury of those who rave may not gain more than the devotion of those who love. Do not let your servants know the gates of death and hell, but bring them to the gates of Paradise through the power given to you by the Saviour, who lives and reigns together with the eternal Father and co-eternal Spirit, the one, only, true God, through endless ages of ages. Amen.

A Prayer of Thomas Aquinas in Middle English

This is a translation of a prayer by Thomas Aquinas ('Concede mihi, misericors Deus'), attributed to Mary, daughter of Henry VIII, and said to have been written when she was eleven years old. The text is from British Library, Additional MS. 17012, via this book.

The prayer of Saynt Thomas of Aquyne, translatyd oute of latyn ynto Englyshe, by the moste exselent Prynces, Mary, doughter to the moste hygh and myghty Prynce and Prynces kyng Henry the viii. and Quene Kateryn hys wyfe. In the yere of oure lorde god M.cccccxxvii: And the xi. yere of here age.

O mercyfull God, graunte me to couyt wyth an ardent mynde, those thingys whiche may please the, to serche them wysely, to know them truly, and to fulfyll them perfytely, to the laude and glory of thy name. Order my lyuyng, that I may do that whiche thou requirest of me, and geue me grace that I may know yt and haue wyll and powre to do it, and that I may obtayne those thingis, whiche be moste conuenient for my sowle. Good Lorde, make my way sure and streight to the, that I fayle not betwene prosperite and aduersyte, but that in prosperous thingis I may geue the thankys, and in aduersite be pacient: soo that I be not lyfte wyth the oon, nor oppressid with thother: and that I may reioyse yn nothing but in this whiche movith me to the, nor be sory for nothing but for those whiche drawith me frome the: Desiring to please nobody, nor fering to displese anny besidis the. Lorde, let all worldly thingis be vile to me, for the: and that all thi thingis be dere to me. And thou, good Lorde, moost speciall above them all. Let me be wery withe that Joye whiche is withoute the, and let me desire nothing besidis the. Let the labor delite me whiche is for the, and let all the rest wery me whiche is not in the. Make me to lyfte my harte oftyntymys to the: and when I fall, make me to think and be sory with a stedfast purpose of amendement. My God, make me humble withoute faynyng, mery withoute lyghtnes, Sade withoute mystruste. Sobir withoute dulnes: Fearing withoute dysparacion: Gentill withoute doblenes : Trusting in the withoute presumpcyon: Telling my neybors fawtis withoute mokking: Obedyent withoute arguyng: Pacient withoute grutching: And pure without corrupcion. My most louyng Lorde and God, geue me a waking hart, that no curyous thought withdrawe me frome the. Let it be so strong, that no unworthy affeccion drawe me bakwarde: So stable, that no tribulacion breke it: And so free, that no electyon by vyolence make anny chalenge to it. My Lorde God, graunt me wytt, to know the: Dilygence, to seke the: Wisedome, to finde the: Conuersacion, to please the: Contynuance, to loke for the: and fynally Hope, to enbrace the : by thi penaunce here to be ponysshid, and in oure wey to use thi benefittis by thy grace. And in heuyn, through thi glory, to haue delyte in thy Joies and rewardys. Amen.

[The prayer of Saint Thomas of Aquinas, translated out of Latin into English, by the most excellent Princess Mary, daughter to the most high and mighty Prince and Princess King Henry the Eighth and Queen Katherine his wife, in the year of our Lord God 1527 and the 11th year of her age.

O merciful God, grant me to covet with an ardent mind those things which may please thee, to explore them wisely, to know them truly, and to fulfill them perfectly, to the laud and glory of thy name. Order my life that I may do that which thou requirest of me, and give me grace that I may know it and have will and power to do it, and that I may obtain those things which are best for my soul. Good Lord, make my way sure and straight to thee, that I fail not between prosperity and adversity, but that in prosperous things I may give thee thanks, and in adversity be patient: so that I be not lifted up with the one, nor oppressed with the other: and that I may rejoice in nothing but that which moveth me to thee, nor be sorrowful for anything but that which draweth me from thee: desiring to please nobody, nor fearing to displease any besides thee. Lord, let all worldly things be vile to me, for thee, and all thy things be dear to me; and thou, good Lord, most especially above them all. Let me be weary with that joy which is without thee, and let me desire nothing besides thee. Let the labour delight me which is for thee, and let all the rest weary me which is not in thee. Make me to lift my heart often to thee: and when I fall, make me to think and be sorry with a steadfast purpose of amendment. My God, make me humble without feigning; merry without lightness; serious without lack of faith; sober without dullness; fearful without despair; courteous without duplicity; trusting in thee without presumption; telling my neighbour's faults without mocking; obedient without arguing; patient without grumbling; and pure without corruption. My most loving Lord and God, give me a waking heart, that no curious thought may withdraw me from thee. Let it be so strong, that no unworthy affection may draw me backward; so stable, that no tribulation may break it; and so free, that no choice by violence may make any challenge to it. My Lord God, grant me wit to know thee: diligence to seek thee: wisdom to find thee: conversation, to please thee: perseverance, to look for thee: and finally hope, to embrace thee: by thy penance here to be punished, and in our way to use thy benefits by thy grace. And in heaven, through thy glory, to have delight in thy joys and rewards. Amen.]


Not bad for an eleven-year-old! In Women's Books of Hours in Medieval England, Charity Scott-Stokes notes in reference to this prayer that "There is likely to have been a strong Dominican influence at the court of Henry VIII during the years of his marriage to Mary's devout Spanish mother, Katherine of Aragon. The princess's education may well have been entrusted to a member of the order" - hence, perhaps, this choice of prayer. If it surprises you to find the young daughter of the staunchly Catholic Katherine of Aragon being taught not only to read Latin but to translate it into the vernacular (and very elegantly too) - well, you may have been watching too much television, and imbibed some misleading ideas about illiterate medieval Catholic women. Here's a corrective.

Thomas Aquinas, in a 14th-century English MS (BL Harley 916, f. 1)

'My keeper so sweet': More Medieval Prayers to a Guardian Angel

In the past on this blog I've posted and discussed five different medieval English prayers addressed to a guardian angel - three in this post, and two in 'A nun's prayer to her guardian angel'. Not surprisingly, given the popularity of this devotion in medieval England, there are more to be found! This post contains two: 'Hail, holy spirit' and 'I pray thee, spirit, that angel art'. I found both in Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century, ed. Carleton Brown (Oxford, 1939), pp. 202-5.

The first is from British Library, Additional MS. 31042, a fifteenth-century compilation of texts on religious and other subjects, put together by a Yorkshire landowner named Robert Thornton.

Haile! holy spyritt, & Ioy be vn-to the!
My keper so swete, myne Aungelle so fre,
In-to thi handis I pray the to take
My fastyng, my penance, my prayers þat I make,
My ympnys, my psalmys, my syngyng for syne,
My knelynge, my louynge, my charite þat I ame ine,
My wakynge, my wepynge & my deuocyoun,
My pacience, my angyrs & my tribulacioun,
My werkes of mercy & my almus dede,
And offere þame to Ihu, & gete me some mede.
And all my gude dedis, gyffe þay littill be,
I pray þe to presente þame bifore þe trynyte,
And to my lorde, Ihu, þu me recomende,
& thanke hym of alle gudnesse þat he hase me sende.
And if I haue seruede & worthy be to payne,
3itt some drope of his mercy þu brynge me agayne,
His pite & his gudnesse in me for to schawe,
þe wrethe of myne enemy þat I may with-drawe.
And alle þat me sekis to angyre & to ill,
To lufe & to charyte þu conuerte þaire will;
And my gastely enemys, all þat fandys me ay,
Dystrowe þu þaire myghtis by nyghte & by day.
And so þat all spirittes, þat me will assaile
In fandynge, be feble & of strenghe faile,
With þe blyssynge of his righte hande he me defende,
þat regnys god in trynyte, in worlde withowtene ende. Amen.


I actually found this poem when searching for hymns to the Holy Spirit, and realising after the first line that this was an address to an angel took me by surprise; but since the usual Middle English term for the third person of the Trinity is 'Holy Ghost', I assume there would have been no confusion for the original audience. There's something enjoyable about the pace of these couplets - they just rattle along. Compared to some of the other prayers to a guardian angel, this is fairly pragmatic and unsentimental: a description of the things an angel can do, and a petition to one's angel to do them, if he would be so kind. Something like 'O sweet angel, to me so dear' is notably more affectionate, almost caressing, in tone.

Here's a modernised version:

Hail, holy spirit, and joy be unto thee,
My keeper so sweet, my angel so free, [noble, gracious]
Into thy hands I pray thee to take
My fasting, my penance, my prayers that I make,
My hymns, my psalms, my singing, for my sin,
My kneeling, my praising, my charity that I am in,
My waking, my weeping and my devotion,
My patience, my troubles and my tribulation,
My works of mercy and my alms deeds,
And offer them to Jesu, and gain me some mede; [reward]
And all my good deeds, though little they be,
I pray thee to present them before the Trinity,
And to my Lord Jesu thou me recommend,
And thank him for all goodness that he hath me sent.
And if I have served and worthy be of pay, [reward]
Some drop yet of his mercy thou bring me again,
His pity and his goodness to me for to show,
The wrath of mine enemy that I may withdraw. [escape]
And all who seek me in anger and for ill,
To love and to charity convert thou their will;
And my ghostly enemies, all which tempt me ay,
Destroy thou their might by night and by day;
And so that all spirits which me would assail
In tempting, be feeble, and of their strength fail,
With the blessing of his right hand may he me defend,
Who reigns, God in Trinity, world without end. Amen.

The archangel Raphael and Tobias (British Library, Stowe 12, f.128)

The second prayer:

I pray þe, spirit, þat angell arte
To whom y ame be-take,
That þu me kepe in clene lyf,
Wheþer y slepe or wake.

God of hys grace haþ me þe sende,
To kepe me boþe daye & ny3t,
Tyde and tyme me to defende,
And with þe fende for me to fy3t.

Louely angell, counforte me
In what desese þat y be ynne,
Helpe with grace þat y maye flee
In wyll and dede & deedly synne.

All temptacions þu put me
ffro þe fendes þat wyll me drede.
Where-euer y goo my fere þu be
That y maye knowe þy helpe at nede.

þow y haue be to þe vnkynde,
To þe mercyfull kynge for me þu praye,
þat no gylt in me be founde,
Whan y schall ryse at domesdaye.

Whanne þu seest me goon with wronge,
ffor hym þat haþ me wro3t,
To hym a-3ey þu me wysse,
Ellys y lese my blys for no3t.

What sorow or what desese,
Helpe me with þy prayere,
My lordes face þat y may see
At domys daye with-outen fere.

Also y praye þe, myn angell swete,
3yf yt maye be by anye waye,
þat þu do me to wete
Of my lyuyng or þe last daye.

Suffre not the fende blake,
With [s]cornis ne with wanhope,
Neyþer my mynde fro me to take,
My sowle to see.

Whan y schall owte of þys worlde goo,
ffor-sake my no3t tyll þu brynge
Me hym to that my sowle came fro,
Euer in ioye with angeles to synge. Amen.

This is from Cambridge University MS. Ii.6.43, a fifteenth-century collection of prayers and spiritual material (you can see a list of the manuscript's contents here). Here's my version of the poem:

I pray thee, spirit, that angel art
To whom I am betake, [entrusted]
That thou me keep in clean life,
Whether I sleep or wake.

God of his grace did me thee send,
To keep me both day and night,
Tide and time me to defend,
Against the fiend for me to fight.

Lovely angel, comfort me
Whatever trouble I may be in,
Help with grace that I may flee
In will and deed from deadly sin.

All temptations thou put [from?] me,
From the fiends who will me drede. [who want to frighten me]
Wherever I go, my companion be
That I may know thy help at need.

Though I have been to thee unkind,
To the merciful King for me thou pray,
That no guilt in me be found,
When I shall rise at doomsday.

When thou seest me go with wrong,
For him that hath me wrought,
To him away thou me guide,
Else I lose my bliss for nought.

Whatever sorrow or trouble come,
Help me with thy prayer,
My Lord's face that I may see
At doomsday without fear.

Also I pray thee, my angel sweet,
If it may be by any way,
That thou cause me to know
Of my life before the last day.

Suffer not the fiend black
Neither with scorn nor with despair
My mind from me to take,
My soul to save.

When I must out of this world go,
Forsake me not until thou bring
Me to him that my soul came from,
Ever in joy with angels to sing. Amen.

In the second verse, 'tide and time' means 'at all times'; the OED says this phrase was in origin either "an alliterative reduplication, in which the two words were more or less synonyms" or meant "time and (or) season". The Middle English Dictionary has a list of ME citations under 8i. In case you were wondering, the proverb which has kept the phrase alive - although perhaps in a misunderstood version, since people tend to think it refers to the sea - is first recorded in the fifteenth century, in the form 'the tide abideth for no manner of man'.

This illustration is from an English Book of Hours (BL Royal 2 B XV) which was made in c.1500 for the family of Thomas Butler, Earl of Ormond. It shows a man with his guardian angel guiding him at prayer, and on the rest of the page is a Latin prayer to the guardian angel:

The text (from a different source, but almost identical) and a translation can be found here. It's useful to have a reminder that devotion to guardian angels could be found at varied levels of society: with this image we've moved from Robert Thornton, a member of the Yorkshire minor gentry, to one of the wealthiest noblemen in the country. Similarly, the owners of the manuscripts with guardian angel prayers in my previous posts included a London merchant, a Chester nun, and the grandmother of Henry VII.

Two Medieval Prayers to Christ

Following on from a post back in June, here are two more prayers from the collection of the Chester nun, Margery Byrkenhed.  In the manuscript each one has the heading 'a good prayer' - perhaps an aide memoire, or a recommendation to future readers like you and me. As before, the text can be found here.

O the moste swetest spouse of my sowle criste Jhu desyryng heretely euer more for to be with the in mynde and wyll, and to lett noo erthly thyng be soo nygh myn hertt as the criste Jhu. And that I dreede nott for to dye for to goo to the criste Jhu. And that I may euer more say to the wt a gladd cheere, my Lord my godd my souereigne Sauyoure crist Jhu. I beseche ye hertely take me Synnar vnto thy greate mercy and grace. For I loue the with all myn hertt wt all my mynde and wh all my myght, and nothyng so myche in erthe nor aboue the erthe as I doo the my swete Lord crist Jhu. And for yt I haue nott loued the, nor worshipped the aboue all thyngs as my lord my god and my Sauyoure criste Jhu I beseche the with mekenes and hert contrite of mercy and of forgevenes of my greate vnkyndenes for the great loue that thowe shewdest for me and all mankynd what tyme thow offredest thy glorious body god and man vnto the crosse ther to be crucified ande wounded, and vnto thy glorious hertt a sharp spere, there rennyng oute plentuously blode and water for the redempcion and saluacion of me and all mankynde. And thus hauyng remembraunce stedfastly in my hert of the my sauyour cryste Jhu I dowtt not but thow wylt be full nyghe me and comfort me both bodely and gostely wt thy glorious presens. And at the last, bryng me vnto thyn euerlastyng blysse the whiche shall neuer haue ende. Amen.

O most sweetest spouse of my soul, Christ Jesu, desiring heartily ever more to be with thee in mind and will, and to let no earthly thing be so nigh to my heart as thee, Christ Jesu, that I may not dread to die for to go to thee, Christ Jesu, and that I may ever more say to thee with a glad spirit, my Lord, my God, my sovereign Saviour Christ Jesu, I beseech thee heartily, take me, a sinner, unto thy great mercy and grace. For I love thee with all my heart, with all my mind and with all my might, and love nothing so much in earth nor above the earth as I do thee, my sweet Lord Christ Jesu. And for the times when I have not loved thee nor worshipped thee above all things as my Lord, my God and my Saviour Christ Jesu, I beseech thee with meekness and a contrite heart for mercy and forgiveness of my great ingratitude for the great love that thou showdest for me and all mankind when thou offeredest thy glorious body, God and Man, unto the cross, there to be crucified and wounded, and unto thy glorious heart a sharp spear, there running out plenteously blood and water for the redemption and salvation of me and all mankind. And thus having remembrance steadfastly in my heart of thee, my Saviour Christ Jesu, I doubt not but that thou wilt be full nigh me and comfort me both bodily and spiritually with thy glorious presence. And at the last, bring me unto thine everlasting bliss which shall never have an end. Amen.

Woman praying, British Library, Egerton 2781, f.125v

O Jhu lett me neuer forgett thy bytter passion
That thou suffred for my transgression.
For in thy blessyd wondes is the verey scole
That must teche me wt the worlde to be called a ffole.
O Jhu ihu ihu grauntt that I may loue the soo
Yt the wysdom of the worlde be cleene fro me A goo.
And brennyngly to desyre to come to see thy face
In whome is all my comford my ioy and my solace.
Amen – Jhesus – Maria – Johannes.

O Jesu, let me never forget thy bitter Passion
That thou suffered for my transgression.
For in thy blessed wounds is the true school
That must teach me by the world to be called a fool.
O Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, grant that I may love thee so
That the wisdom of the world may clean from me go.
And burningly to desire to come to see thy face
In whom is all my comfort, my joy and my solace.
Amen – Jesus – Maria – John.

British Library, Royal 6 E VI, f.447v

It's not great poetry, nor is the other great prose; but there's a kind of yearning in these prayers which makes them moving for me - a depth of feeling which finds ordinary language inadequate, and spills beyond the bounds of such things as grammar and logical syntax.  For those of us who strive to produce 'good' writing, there's always a danger of choosing a neat phrase over one which is messy or clumsily expressed, yet more accurate; I like to imagine that the person who wrote the first prayer chose, in the service of humility, 'by the world to be called a fool' (or a bad writer) rather than turn an elegant phrase with less feeling in it.

It's worth noting that the uses of the name 'Jesu' are quite typical of prayers of this period - in the first the phrase 'Christ Jesu' serves as a kind of punctuation, like a breath between petitions, and in the second the repetition of the name evokes a fervour of desire and devotion.  The end of the fifteenth century saw the institution of the Feast of the Holy Name, so Margery Byrkenhed was a woman of her time.

A nun's prayer to her guardian angel

A guardian angel defends a praying man (BL Cotton Tiberius B III, f. 147v)

Since writing my post on medieval prayers to a guardian angel this time last year, I've been keeping an eye out for prayers on this subject; the previous post has proved popular, so I hope there's interest out there for some more. I recently encountered three more verse prayers (all in Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century, ed. Carleton Brown (Oxford, 1939)), of which this was my favourite:

'A prayer to the good angel'

O swete angell, to me soo deere,
that nyght and day standithe me neere
ffull loueyngly with mylde moode,
Thankyng, loueyng, loue & praysyng,
Offer for me to Ihu, our kyng,
ffor his gyfftes greate and goode.

As thow gothe betwix hym and me,
And knowethe my lyffe in euery degre,
Saying it in his presence,
Aske me grace to loue hym truly,
To serue my lorde with hertt duly,
With my dayly diligence.

Keepe me from vice and all perells,
Whiles thowe with me dayly trauells
In this worlde of wyckednesse;
Sett me my peticions grauntede
By thy praier dayly haunted,
Yff it please thy holynes.

O swete angell, that keepeth me,
Bryng me to blysse, I pray the!

This comes from a fascinating manuscript (now Henry E. Huntington Library, Ellesmere MS. 34 B.7) of Latin antiphons and hymns, intended for a community of nuns, which also contains a small collection of English prayers. Unusually, many of the rubrics for the antiphons are in English, too.  You may know one of the pieces, the beautiful Latin lullaby 'Qui creavit coelum', which is often known today as the 'Song of the Nuns of Chester'. The manuscript bears the inscription 'This book [be]longeth to Dame Margery Byrkenhed of Chestre' (see the bottom image here); Margery was probably a nun at St Mary's in Chester, and the English prayers were perhaps collected for her own private use. So this prayer to a guardian angel, one of the most personal types of prayer in any case, is given extra interest because we may know the name of the woman who used it.

The prayers have titles such as 'a good prayer' or 'a devout prayer'; this one is headed 'to the good angel', which is, as I discussed in my previous post, a common Middle English phrase for what we call a 'guardian angel'. Here's a modernised version of the poem:

O sweet angel, to me so dear,
Who night and day standeth me near
Full lovingly, with mild mood, [gentle mind]
Thanks, honour, love and praising,
Offer for me to Jesu, our king,
For his gifts great and good.

As thou goest betwixt him and me,
And knowest my life in every degree,
Telling it in his presence,
Ask me grace to love him truly,
To serve my Lord with heart duly,
With my daily diligence.

Keep me from vice and all perils,
While thou with me daily travels
In this world of wickedness;
Cause my petitions to be granted
By thy prayer daily haunted,
If it please thy holiness.

O sweet angel, who keepest me,
Bring me to bliss, I pray thee!

I was intrigued by the line 'by thy prayer daily haunted', having always unthinkingly assumed that haunt in the sense of' 'frequent' (v) was a metaphorical use of the word, adopted from the ghostly kind of haunting; but of course it's completely the other way around. In Middle English, haunt meant 'to practise habitually, or to frequent' (as the MED entry for haunten shows), and the word had nothing to do with spirits in any way before the sixteenth century - the OED's first citation for the verb in connection with 'unseen or immaterial visitants... imaginary or spiritual beings, ghosts, etc.' is from 1597. So there's nothing odd about the use of this word in reference to the angel's prayers.

The appealing image of the angel 'going betwixt' heaven and earth, busily telling God what the person in its charge has been doing, reminded me of this meditation:

For the fulfilling of the behests of the eternal Father, thousands of thousands glide in swift flight twixt heaven and earth, like industrious bees that flit to and fro between their hive and the flowers; a busy throng, innocent and stainless, neither laggard nor disobedient...

The poem certainly envisages an angel flitting around all over the place - not only moving between God and its charge, but 'standing near' her night and day, travelling with her everywhere 'in this world of wickedness', and haunting heaven with its prayers; an industrious bee indeed!

Below the verse in the manuscript is this prayer:

O my Lord Jesu Christ, as it hath pleased thee to assign an angel to wait on me daily and nightly with great attendance and diligence, so I beseech thee through his going betwix us that thou cleanse me from vices, clothe me with virtues, grant me love and grace to come see [sic] and have without end thy bliss before thy fair face, who liveth and reigneth after thy glorious Passion with the Father of heaven and with the Holy Ghost, one God and persons three without end in bliss. Amen.

Clearly this prayer and the poem are two separate texts; maybe Margery also liked to keep an eye out for prayers to guardian angels, and collected them when she found them.

Here's a wonderful illustration of a fifteenth-century English lady praying to her guardian angel, from British Library, Royal 2 A XVIII, f.26:

This lady is rather grander than Margery Byrkenhed of Chester would have been - the manuscript was made for Margaret Beauchamp, Duchess of Somerset, mother of Margaret Beaufort, and grandmother of Henry VII. The kneeling woman has a scroll saying 'sub umbra alarum tuarum protege me', 'hide me under the shadow of thy wings', and the angel is saying, 'Dominus custodiat te ab omni malo', 'the Lord preserve thee from all evil'; both are quotations from psalms used at Compline. Note that the woman is, in fact, covered by the angel's wing.

The text on the page is a Latin prayer to the guardian angel - the first three verses of this prayer, which is probably the ultimate source of a guardian angel prayer still widely used today ('Angel of God, my guardian dear...'). The man who composed that prayer, three hundred years before this manuscript was made, was a monk at St Augustine's, Canterbury, and a near neighbour and contemporary of Eadmer, whose interest in guardian angels I described in this post. I wonder if the two of them ever discussed this particular devotion.

Two Medieval Evening Prayers

BL Egerton 1153, f. 93v

A little while ago I posted a fourteenth-century prose prayer for the evening, and here to accompany it are two rhymed prayers in English from the following century.  The first is from British Library, Harley MS. 541, a prayer to the Virgin:

Upon my ryght syde y me leye,
Blessid lady, to thee y pray,
For the teres that ye lete
Upon yowre swete sonnys feete,
Sende me grace for to slepe,
And good dremys for to mete,
Slepyng, wakyng, til morowe daye bee.
Owre lorde is the frwte, oure lady is the tree,
Blessid be the blossome that sprange, lady, of thee.
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus sancti.

That is:

Upon my right side I me lay;
Blessed lady, to thee I pray:
For the tears that ye lete [wept]
Upon your sweet son's feet,
Send me grace for to sleep,
And good dreams for to meet, [dream]
Sleeping, waking, till morrow day be.
Our Lord is the fruit, Our Lady is the tree,
Blessed be the blossom that sprang, Lady, of thee.
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus sancti.

'On Sleep and Wakefulness', from British Library, Harley 3487 f. 208

'Send me grace for to sleep, and good dreams for to meet' - what a lovely prayer!

The other set of verses is in the same manuscript as this morning prayer, Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole 61, and they go very well together.

Jesus Lord, well of all godnes,
For thi grete pety I the pray:
Forgyffe me all my wykidnes
Wher-with I have greuyd the to-dey.

Honour and praysing to the be,
And thankyng for thi gyftys all
That I this dey reseyuid of the;
Now, curtas Cryst, to the I calle.

This nyght fro perell thou me kepe,
My bodely rest whyll that I take;
And als longe as myne evyne sclepe,
Myn hert in thi seruys wake.

For feryng of the fend owre fo,
Fro fowll dremys and fantasys,
Kepe this nyght, from synne also,
In clenes that I may vpryse.

Saue my gode doers fro greuans,
And quyte them that thei on me spend.
Kepe my enmys fro noyans,
And gyffe them grace for to amend.

Mercy, Jesu, and grante mercy;
My body, my soule, I thee bekene,
In nomine patris et filii
Et spiritus sancti, Amen.

Or:

Jesus Lord, well of all goodness,
For thy great pity I thee pray:
Forgive me all my wickedness
Wherewith I have grieved thee today.

Honour and praising to thee be,
And thanking for thy gifts all
That I this day received of thee;
Now, courteous Christ, to thee I call.

This night from peril thou me keep,
My body's rest while that I take;
And as long as mine eyen sleep,
Mine heart in thy service wake.

For fear of the fiend our foe,
From foul dreams and fantasies
Keep me this night, from sin also,
In cleanness that I may uprise.

Save my good-doers from grievance,
And quit them what they on me spend. [quit = repay]
Keep my enemies from noyans, [trouble]
And give them grace for to amend.

Mercy, Jesu, and grant mercy;
My body, my soul, I thee bekene, [entrust to thee]
In nomine patris et filii
Et spiritus sancti, Amen.

'I sleep, but my heart wakes' recalls a verse from the Song of Songs (5:2) which was very popular in medieval devotional writing; it's the title of a work by Richard Rolle, for instance. Note also the echo of the hymn Te lucis ante terminum in that line about 'foul dreams and fantasies'. I talked a little about the vocabulary of dreams and 'fantasies' in my post on medieval translations of that hymn, and although this poem is a little older than 'O Lorde, the maker of al thyng', which I quoted there, the collocation of the same two English words suggests the inspiration of the Latin - somnia et noctium phantasmata... But unlike 'Te lucis' this hymn is in the first person singular, for private devotion, not communal use.


William Mundy (c. 1529–1591), 'O Lord, the maker of all thing'

(I just googled 'O Lord, the maker of all thing' and saw it described on a supposedly reputable site as 'one of the earliest vernacular English prayers'. Can you believe that? It's from the sixteenth century! There were eight centuries' worth of English vernacular prayers older than that - hundreds of them, stretching through nearly a whole millennium. You just read two of them...)

A Medieval Morning Prayer

Jesu Lord, blyssed thou be,
For all this nyght thou hast me kepe
From the fend and his poste,
Whether I wake or that I slepe.

In grete deses and dedly synne,
Many one this nyght fallyn has,
That I my selve schuld have fallyn in,
Hadyst thou not kepyd me with thi grace.

Lord, gyffe me grace to thi worschype,
This dey to spend in thi plesanse;
And kepe me fro wyked felyschipe,
And from the fendys comberance.

Jesu, my tunge thou reule all so,
That I not speke bot it be nede,
Hertly to pray fore frend and fo,
And herme no man in word ne dede.

Cryste, gyffe me grace, off mete and drynke
This dey to take mesurably,
In dedly synne that I not synke
Thorow outrage of foule glotony.

Jesu my lord, Jesu my love,
And all that I ame bond unto,
Thi blyssing send fro hevyn above,
And gyffe them grace wele to do.

My gode angell that arte to me send
From God to be my governour,
From all evyll sprytys thou me defend,
And in my desesys to be my socoure.

A man wakes and greets the sun, from the beginning of Prime in a 13th-century English Book of Hours, BL Egerton 1151

This is a fifteenth-century prayer for the morning which appears in the manuscript Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole 61.  A detailed study of the manuscript can be found here; as well as prayers and short poems like this one, it contains romances, comic tales and entertaining saints' lives - the popular literature of fifteenth-century England - and probably belonged to a middle-class family in the Midlands.  It's interesting to compare this simple poem to the translation of a morning hymn which I posted a few months ago, 'Our weary limbs refreshed now with rest' (yes, I did reuse the same picture - I love it!); this poem is much more straightforward, and is probably supposed to be an easily remembered personal devotion, intended for a lay audience. The comparison between the two usefully illustrates the range and diversity of late medieval religious writing in the vernacular; the theme is roughly similar, but this poem focuses on acts of private thanksgiving, resolution and petition for the day ahead, and the diction is much more homely.

Here's a modernised version, not that it needs much explanation - except that in the last verse spirits is pronounced sprits, as those of you accustomed to singing Tudor church music will readily appreciate ;)  The 'good angel' is a guardian angel, as in these prayers (I found some more to add to that post, and they'll appear here soon).

Jesu Lord, blessed thou be,
For all this night thou hast me kept
From the fiend and his poste, [power]
Whether I waked or slept.

In great disease and deadly sin,
Many a one this night fallen has,
That I myself should have fallen in,
Hadst thou not kept me with thy grace.

Lord, give me grace to thy worship,
This day to spend in thy plesanse; [in a way pleasing to you]
And keep me from wicked fellowship,
And from the fiend's encomberance.

Jesu, my tongue rule thou also,
That I speak not but there be need,
Heartily to pray for friend and foe,
And harm no man in word or deed.

Christ, give me grace, of meat and drink
This day to take measurably,
In deadly sin that I not sink
Through outrage of foul gluttony.

Jesu my lord, Jesu my love,
To all that I am bound unto
Thy blessing send from heaven above,
And give them grace well to do.

My good angel that art to me sent
From God to be my governor,
From all evil spirits thou me defend,
And in my disease to be my succour.

Some Medieval Bidding Prayers

I came across the following prayers among an assortment of texts published in The Lay Folks Mass Book; or, The manner of hearing mass, with rubrics and devotions for the people, in four texts, and Offices in English according to the use of York, from manuscripts of the Xth to the XVth century, a volume edited for the Early English Text Society in 1879 by Thomas Frederick Simmons. The whole book can be read online here. The Lay Folks' Mass Book is a fascinating fifteenth-century text in rhyming English verse, which guides the lay reader through the form and prayers of the Mass; the prayers I'm posting today aren't part of that text, but were published in the same EETS volume to add some contemporary context. I found little trace of them on the internet, so I thought I'd post and translate them here.

The prayers all originate from York. This one dates to c.1405 (in case your Middle English is a bit rusty, my translation follows):

3e sal mak your prayers specially till our lord god almighti and til his blessyd moder mary and till all the haly court of heuen for the state and the stabilnes of al halykirk. For the pape of Rome and al his cardinals and for the archebishop of York and for al ercebischops and bischops and for al men and women of religion and for the person of this kirke that has your saules to kepe and for all the prestes and clerkes that has serued or serues in this kirk or in any other. And for al prelates and ordiners and al that halykirk reules and gouerns that god len thaim grace so for to reuel the popil and swilk ensaumpil for to tak or scheu thaim and thaim for to do thare-after, that it may be louing unto god and saluacyon of thaire saules.

Also 3e sal pray specially for the gode state of this reume for the kyng and the quene and for al the peris and the lordes of this lande that God send loue and charite thaim omang and gif thaim grace so for to reule it and gouern it in pes that it be louing to God and the comons un-to profet.

Also 3e sal pray specially for tha that lely and trwly payes thare tendes and thair offerandes til God and halykirk and for al that other does that God thaim amende.

Also 3e sal pray specialy for thaim that this kirk first biggid and edefied and al that it up-haldes and for all that thar-in findes boke or chales vestiment lyght or towell, or any other anourment whare-wit godes seruys es sustend and for thaim that halybred gaf to this kirk to day and for thaim that first began and langest haldis on. And for al land tilland and for al see farand and for the wedir and for the fruyt that es on erthe, that the erthe may bring forthe his fruyt cristen men to profet. And for al pilgrymes and palmers and for al that any gode gates has gane or sal ga, and for thaim that brigges and stretes makes and amendes that god grant us parte of thare gode dedes and thaim of oures. Also 3e sal pray for all our parischyns whar-so thai be on land or on water that god saue thaim fra al missaunters and for all wymen that er with chield in this parische or in any other, that God delyuer thaim with joy and gife the child cristendom and thaim purificacion. and for al that er sek and sary that god almighthi conforth thaim and thaim that er in gode lyfe that God hald thaim thare-in. For tham that er in dette or in dedly synne or in prison that God bring tham out thare-of.

For tham and for us and for al cristen folke for charite says a Pater-noster and a aue.

Deus miseratur nostri et cetera.
Gloria Patri.
Kyrie eleyson. Christe eleyson. Kyrie eleyson.
Pater noster.
Et ne nos.
Saluos fac servos tuos, et ancillas tuas, Deus meus.
Sperantes.
Esto eis Domine turris fortitudinis.
A facie inimici.
Domine, Deus virtutem.
Et ostende faciem.
Domine exaudi orationem.
Dominus vobiscum.
Ecclesiæ tuæ preces, Domine.
Oratio.
Deus, qui caritatis.
Oratio.
Deus a quo sancta desideria.

Also 3e sal pray specialy til oure lady saynt mary that sche becum oure auoket and at sche pray for hus specially till hir dere son.

And also 3e sal pray specialy for the breder and the sisters of saynt petir minster of york and of sant jon of beuerlay and of saynt wilfryde of rypon and for al that 3e er halden un-to and for al that God wald 3e prayed for says a Pater noster and ave.

Ave regina cælorum.
(In tempore Paschali: Regina cæli, lætare)

Post partum virgo.
Famulorum tuorum.

Also 3e sal pray specialy for our fader saules and our moder saules and for oure god-fader saules and oure god-moder saules and for oure brether saules and oure sister saules and for oure eldir saules and for al the saules of whame the bodis es berid in this kirk or in this kirk-3erde and for al saules that in purgatori godis mercy abydes and for al cristen saules of whame we have had any god of says specialy a Pater-noster and ave.

The manuscript in which this prayer survives is now at Harvard, and there's a description of it here. The language of the prayer is not difficult but there are some phrases which are not quite obvious; by its very nature a prayer like this is repetitive and paratactic, and in the translation which follows, I haven't tried to smooth out those features:

You shall make your prayers especially to our Lord God Almighty and to his blessed mother Mary and to all the holy court of heaven for the state and the stability of all Holy Church. For the Pope of Rome and all his cardinals, and for the Archbishop of York and for all archbishops and bishops, and for all men and women of religion, and for the parson of this church who has the care of your souls, and for all the priests and clerks who have served or serve in this church or in any other. And for all prelates and ordinaries and all who rule and govern Holy Church, that God may grant them grace to rule the people, and to set and show such an example for the people that they may follow it, for the praise of God and the salvation of their souls.

Also you shall pray especially for the good estate of this realm, for the king and the queen, and for all the peers and the lords of this land, that God send love and charity among them and give them grace to rule it and govern it in peace, that it may be for the praise of God and the profit of the commons [i.e. 'benefit of the people'].

Also you shall pray especially for those who loyally and truly pay their tithes and their offerings to God and Holy Church, and for all who do otherwise, that God may bring them amendment.

Also you shall pray especially for those who first built and constructed this church, and all who support it, and for all who provide for it books, chalices, vestments, lights and cloths, or any other ornament whereby God's service is sustained; and for those who gave the holy bread for this church today, and for those who first began this and have the longest maintained it.

And for all tillers of the land and mariners on the sea, and for the weather and the fruit that is on the earth, that the earth may bring forth its fruit for the benefit of all Christians. And for all pilgrims and palmers, and all who have gone on holy journeys or who shall go; and for those who make and maintain bridges and roads, that God may grant us a part in their good deeds, and them in ours. Also you shall pray for all our parishioners, wherever they may be on land or on water, that God may protect them from all misfortune; and for all women who are with child in this parish or in any other, that God may deliver them with joy and give christening to the child and purification to the mother. And for all who are sick and sorrowful, that God Almighty may comfort them, and for those who are in a good state, that God may preserve them in it. For those who are in debt or in mortal sin or in prison, that God bring them out thereof.

For them and for us and for all Christian people, for charity, say a Pater noster and an Ave...

Also you shall pray especially to Our Lady St Mary, that she may become our advocate and that she pray especially for us to her dear Son.

And also you shall pray especially for the brothers and the sisters of St Peter's Minster, York, and of St John of Beverley, and of St Wilfrid of Ripon, and for all to whom you are beholden, and for all for whom God wishes you to pray, say a Pater noster and Ave.

Also you shall pray especially for our fathers' souls, and our mothers' souls, and for our godfathers' souls and our godmothers' souls, and for our brothers' souls and our sisters' souls, and for our ancestors' souls and for all the souls whose bodies are buried in this church or in this churchyard, and for all souls who in Purgatory await God's mercy, and for all Christian souls of whom we have received any good, say especially a Pater noster and an Ave.

Three further prayers can be found here; they're very similar to this one, as you might expect, but with some interesting additional phrases (for instance, the second talks about the 'fair fellowship of heaven'). An illustration of how consistent the form is can be provided by another English prayer, composed almost four hundred years earlier, again in York:

Wutan we gebiddan God ealmitigne, heofena heah cyning, and Sancta Marian, and ealle Godes halgan, þæt we moton Godes ælmihtiges willan gewyrcan þa hwil þe we on þyssan lænan life wunian þæt hy us gehealdan and gescyldan wið ealra feonda costnunga, gesenelicra and ungesenelicra, Pater noster.

Wutan we gebiddan for urne papan on Rome, and for urne cyning, and for [ur]ne arcebisceop and for [ur]ne ealdorman, and for ealle þa þe us gehealdað frið and freondscype on feower healfe into þysse halgan stowe, and for ealle þa þe us fore gebiddað binnan angelcynne and butan angelcynne, Pater noster.

Wutan we gebiddan for ure godsybbas and for ure cumpeðran, and for ure gildan and gildsweostran, and ealles þæs folces gebed þe þas halgan stowe mid ælmesan seceð, mid lihte and mid tigeðinge, and for ealle þa þe we æfre heora ælmessan befonde wæron, ær life and æfter life, Pater [nost]er.

Bidde we...
For Þor[fe]rþes saule bidde we Pater noster, and for micel mere saule, and for ealle þa saula þe fulluht underfengan and on Crist gelyfdan fram Adames dæge to þisum dæge, Pater noster.

A translation:

Let us pray to God Almighty, high king of the heavens, and St Mary, and all saints of God, that we may perform the will of God Almighty as long as we dwell in this fleeting life, that they may protect and shield us from all temptations of the enemy, seen and unseen. Pater noster.

Let us pray for our Pope in Rome, and for our king, and for our archbishop and for our ealdorman, and for all who maintain peace and friendship for us on the four sides of this holy place, and for all who pray for us among the English and outside the English nation. Pater noster.

Let us pray for our sponsors and for our godfathers, and for our guildsmen and guild-sisters, and all the prayers of the people who seek this holy place with alms, with lights and with tithes, and for all from whom we have ever received any good, during life or after our life.

We pray...
We pray a Pater noster for Thorferth's soul, and for many more souls, and for all souls who have received baptism and have believed in Christ from the days of Adam until this day. Pater noster.

This prayer is from the York Gospels (York, Minster Library, Additional 1), a beautiful volume which belonged to the great law-maker and homilist Wulfstan, Archbishop of York, who died in 1023. The book was made in Canterbury c.1000 and went to York in c.1020, probably as a gift to Wulfstan from Cnut and Queen Emma. In York, further texts were added to the gospel-book - some of Wulfstan's own homilies, surveys of lands and other possessions belonging to the archbishop, Cnut's famous 1020 letter to the English people, and these bidding-prayers. Such an assortment of religious, legal and political texts is not at all uncommon in this period; the administrative texts gain greater authority and permanence from being copied into a sacred book.

This point is an interesting one to remember when thinking about bidding prayers, because they are always - even today - the moment in a public religious service where the sacred and the secular meet, or jolt against each other. It's this mixture of the specific and the general which makes bidding prayers like these so fascinating; the form and phrasing is consistent, but the referent is always changing. Both these prayers pray for the king, but 'the kyng' of 1405 is not 'urne cyning' of the Old English prayer (the king most associated with the earlier manuscript is Cnut, and it's fascinating to wonder what might have been the substance of prayers for him, the young Viking Wulfstan was helping to turn into a Christian monarch; but this prayer was probably added a little later in the eleventh century, and so the king here might be a Norman conqueror rather than a Danish one). The meaning of the prayer is therefore context-dependent in a way belied (but also facilitated by) by the non-specific language.

In the prayers quoted here, you can trace the particular concerns of a community at York in much more than the tinge of northern dialect - especially in their petitions for the nearby communities to whom they were bound by mutual obligations of prayer. It was the duty of religious communities to pray for their benefactors, and these prayers take that very seriously. This was one of the aspects of the texts which most struck me, as someone who has (usually in a spirit of patient scepticism) listened to many a bidding prayer - I've never heard anything comparable to the prayers for those who built the church and found for it 'books, chalices, vestments, lights and cloths'. Perhaps we take those things for granted now in a way our medieval forebears could not; but I was at a service of Evensong recently at Binsey (an isolated medieval church near Oxford used only in the summer months) where the visiting vicar scrambled around for candles, one stalwart parishioner had to go in search of hymn-books, and the organist was a newcomer who volunteered on the spur of the moment. It all felt quite impromptu, a strange contrast to the venerable solidity of the 500-year-old words which made up the service. The spirit of this bidding-prayer, that we should be grateful for the people who make such worship possible, seemed very appropriate.

Personally, I never appreciated the importance of remembering benefactors until I came to Oxford, which, like many older educational institutions, recalls its 'founders and benefactors' most enthusiastically. Chaucer's Clerk of Oxford 'bisily gan for the soules preye/Of hem that yaf hym wherwith to scoleye', and so do we today: college graces and chapel prayers include a rota of named benefactors, and their portraits adorn our walls. My school didn't have founders or benefactors (unless you count the British state!), and it was only when I had been exposed to this kind of corporate piety for a few years that I realised there can also be a personal element for people fortunate enough to hold scholarships and prizes. I had never previously thought of myself as having benefactors, either, but in those terms my own (unwitting) patrons include a seventeenth-century lawyer named William Hulme, the medievalist Dorothy Whitelock, and mostly recently an American philanthropist who made his millions in the banking industry; and then there are my 'godsibbas', not to mention the many people who have given me books over the years! I wish I'd realised earlier what a debt of gratitude I owe to such people; education too is something we take for granted in a way our ancestors could not, even just one or two generations ago. Acknowledging the debts we owe our benefactors is a feature of pre-Reformation religion which greatly appeals to me: it's one of the aspects of medieval religion which is often called superstitious, as if it makes too simplistic an equation between monetary gifts and prayer, but when looked at in another light it can promote a profoundly grateful and humble attitude to those who have benefited us by their generosity.

The other feature of this prayer which particularly struck me is the idea of remembering those who are buried in the church where the prayer is being said. In any land which has been continuously occupied for thousands of years, you're never far from someone's grave, whether you can see it or not. A dense and ancient city like York, where churchyards are squeezed in among chainstores, is truly 'bone-littered ground', and every church has its walls crammed to overflowing with monuments to long-dead people who once worshipped there. It's easy not to notice them, to be oblivious; I know I often have been. Whether or not you believe that the souls of such people are in need of prayer, it's good to think upon them once in a while. All this offers a kind of specific, personal, local approach to religion which, as I've increasingly felt over the past few years, can be extremely powerful: it provides roots, stories, explanations for our presence in the places where we live, links us with the ground we walk on and the people who have walked there before us. To belong to one place, to love one little space of earth, does not have to narrow the limits of your mind; it can produce the opposite effect, in enabling you to become part of a community not bounded by time. These prayers pray 'specially' for their own place, their own people, but for everyone, too - for them and us and all. I'm glad to remember that in such communities, formed by the institutions I've been part of in my life, I have benefactors, patrons, predecessors, brothers and sisters - and much to be grateful for.

In that spirit, the pictures in this post are all from the churchyard of the church where I was christened.

A Meditation of St Anselm

(Text from here; it's attributed to Anselm, though its authorship is uncertain.)

My heart’s voice is to Thee, my Lord and eternal King, Christ Jesus. The work of Thy hand dares to address Thee with loving boldness, for it yearns after Thy beauty and longs to hear Thy voice. O Thou, my heart’s desired One, how long must I bear Thy absence; how long must I sigh after Thee, and my eyes drop tears? O Lord, all love, all loveable, where dwellest Thou? Where is the place of Thy rest, where Thou reposest all joyful among Thy favourite ones, and satisfiest them with the revelations of Thy glory? How happy, how bright, how holy, how ardently to be longed for, is that place of perennial joys! My eye has never reached far enough, nor my heart soared high enough, to know the multitude of the sweetnesses which Thou hast stored up in it for Thy children. And yet I am supported by their fragrance, though I am far away from them. The breath of Thy sweetness comes to me from afar; a sweetness which to me exceeds the odour of balsam, and the breath of frankincense and myrrh, and every kind of sweetest smell. It awakes chaste longings in my heart; and delightful, yet scarce tolerable are its flames. For ‘what have I in heaven?’ (Ps. lxxiii. 25.) What is my treasure in that celestial shrine? What is my heritage in the land of the living? Is it not Christ, my Lord, my sole salvation, my total good, my fulness of joy? And how, O Lord, shall I restrain my heart from loving Thee? If I love not Thee, what shall I love? If I transfer my love from Thee, where shall I bestow it worthily? O longed-for Lord, where shall my longings find a rest outside of Thee? If my love stir its wing away from Thee, outside of Thee, it will be soiled; and my longings will be all in vain if they glance aside from Thee. For art not Thou loveable and desirable above all things that can be desired or loved? Whatever worth and beauty all creation has, it has from Thee; and what marvel, since Thou alone excellest all things? Thou hast clothed the sun among the stars with an excellent brightness, and brighter than the sun art Thou. Nay, what is the sun, or what is all created light, in comparison of Thee, but darkness? Thou hast peopled the sky with stars, the empyrean with angels, the air with birds, the waters with fish, the earth with herbs, and plants with flowers. But there is no beauty nor no grace in all of them in comparison of Thee, O Fountain of universal beauty, Lord Jesus. Thou hast stored honey with its sweetness, and sweeter than honey art Thou. Thou hast infused its pleasantness into oil, and pleasanter than oil art Thou. Thou hast shed their odours into all fragrant gums, and sweet and pleasant above all rare spices is Thy fragrance. Thou hast set gold among minerals in rare pre-eminence for worth and beauty; yet what is all of it compared to my priceless Lord, and His fathomless glory, that the angels long to gaze into? Every precious stone and desirable to look upon is the work of Thy hands,—sardius, topaz, jasper, chrysolite, onyx, beryl, amethyst, sapphire, carbuncle, emerald; and yet what are all of them but toys compared with Thee, all-loveable and all-beauteous King? And Thine own handiwork are those precious and immortal jewels with which Thou, O wise Master-builder, didst in the beginning of the ages beautifully embellish the superethereal palace to the praise and glory of the Father.

Through Thee, for the fulfilling of the behests of the eternal Father, thousands of thousands glide in swift flight twixt heaven and earth, like industrious bees that flit to and fro between their hive and the flowers; a busy throng, innocent and stainless, neither laggard nor disobedient. Through Thee a hundred times ten thousand stand ministrant in the sanctuary of the temple of highest heaven, staring on the Face of Majesty with a clear unflinching gaze, and sounding forth their harmonious ceaseless hymn to the glory of the triune undivided Godhead.

Through Thee the Seraphim burn, the Cherubim shine, the Thrones give judgment.

Thou, O Lord, art a fire that burns and consumes not; and, from their immediate nearness to the fires of Thy Godhead, all the sacred choir of the Seraphim are wrapt in coruscating flame, and pour abroad the overflowing of their blissful ardours on the other armies of Thy battling hosts; and of these we in our turn have tasted of the fulness.

Thou, our God, art very Light; and the hills catch Thy glory and shed it on Thy people, when Thou dost largely shower forth Thy hidden treasures of wisdom and knowledge on the eyes of the Cherubim, who fix their nearer gaze on Thee. And from them are lighted in their turn the elect subordinated lamps of Thy marvellous tabernacle, which inextinguishably shine before Thy Face, O Lord...

Thine, O sweet Jesus, are the magnificent Archangels, in whom the benignity of Thy great condescension chiefly works; for, glorious satraps of Thy palace, Thou disdainest not to dispatch them down to this poor world to support and help our lowliness, creatures of clay that we are, and close allied to dust and ashes. Through them, by Thy command, the chiefest interests of our salvation are administered, and the profoundest secrets of Thy supreme purpose are conveyed to us by them; by them come sicknesses and health to the generations of mankind; by them the kingdoms and the empires of the world subsist. And, chief amongst them do we own Thy Michael, the stalwart standard-bearer and the citizen of heaven, who stands in advance of the army of the living God, and brandishing his champion’s blade thunders with terrible voice against the marshalled hosts of the enemy. ‘Who is like God?’

And the blessed Angels, so loveable in their innocence, are they not the choice work of Thy Fingers, O Wisdom of God? For on the day of their creation Thou didst deck them with an incorruptible vestiture for the work of Thy holy service. These are the living stars of the higher heaven, the lilies of the inner paradise, the rose-trees planted by the silent-flowing waters of Siloe, with their roots immovably fixed in Thee. O River of peace, O Breath of the garden of delights, O only Wisdom ranging round about the circling bourne of heaven; by Thee they shine, and burn, and glow in perfect wisdom, in virginal chastity, and in the ardours of a deathless love. Blooming in endless youth, they find in our weakness the sphere of their faithful service; for they lead us by the hand like tender guides, and direct our steps as we travel through this darksome world, and ward off the assaults of the enemy, and whisper to us the secrets of Thy will, and brace up our failing hearts to good, and carry up the incense of our prayers to the altar of gold, and always supplicate the Face of our merciful Father for us.

Thus, merciful Father, Thou hast indeed some care for us, though for a season we are far away from home. And if the tenth drachma which once slipped from Thy bosom and has now been recovered by Thy toils and sorrows have any worth, it is all Thy gift, good Jesus. If there be aught of sweetest sound in this tenth chord strung of yore for the praise of God, it is the persuasive touch of Thy Sovereign Hand that evokes it, when on the ten-stringed psaltery Thou singest the glory of the Father. Sing as Thou singest, O Lord; play Thy sweet music with the swift and changeful modulations of a manifold thanks giving. Strike those nine tuneful heavenly strings, which never yet sounded harsh or sad. And touch that tenth, of lowest note, whose upper part strained and set in tune to Thee sounds joyfully; whilst its lower part, bound as yet awhile to the earth, knows only how to yield dull sounds of sadness and untunefulness.

When, O First-begotten of God, I muse with intensest thought upon all Thy wonderful works, I tremble with amazement; for Thou dost shine forth all-glorious in every way in all of them. And yet, great though they be, and beautiful and very good, they show as emptiness and nothing compared with Thee. Earth and sky and all their bravery subsist by Thee their Creator and Governor, and utter forth Thy power and fulness, Thy wisdom and beauty, Thy goodness and love; and as light excels darkness, so Thou and Thou alone transcendest all of them. And Thou, my God, awaitest me in heaven, the Treasure and the Reward of Thy servant; Giver at once and Gift, Saviour and Salvation. The expected of my soul, ‘what besides Thee has it desired upon earth?’ (Ps. lxxiii. 25.)

Why then should I leave heaven for an atom? What is it in all the earth that I have deemed a greater good than Thee, or a dearer love than Thee, that I should steal my heart from Thee and desire anything in all the universe outside of Thee? Why in all my life have I ever loved any thing or desired anything but Thee, Jesus my God? Why, Jesus, have I delayed, why have I ever for a moment stopped entertaining Thee in my heart, embracing Thee with my whole soul, and delighting all the inward recesses of my being with Thy sweetness? When I was not with Thee, where was I? When my desires rested not on Thee only, whither, whither did they fly?

God of my life, how vainly have my days been spent, how unprofitably have they slipped by! days which Thou gavest me that I might do Thy will in them, and I have not done it. How long the years, how many the hours that I have squandered, living but bringing forth no fruit in Thy sight! And how then shall I stand? How shall I dare to lift my eyes and look in Thy Face at that great reckoning, if Thou shalt bid me give an account of all my sins or of all my opportunities, and shalt demand the issues of all! O let it not be so, most patient Father; nay, let it not be so, but rather let my wasted opportunities—alas, how many!—be buried in forgetfulness. And if, by Thy help, I have husbanded some few of them—their number is small enough, I know—let these be remembered to eternity; and, Father of all love, let at least this my residue of time be fruitful and hallowed by Thy grace, that it may find a place in the days of eternity and be reckoned in my favour in Thy sight.

Now, then, from this moment do you, all my desires, bestir yourselves and fly to your Lord Jesus: fly away; why linger ye? Speed ye to your goal, seek whom ye seek. ‘You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified’ (St. Mark xvi. 6)...

And thou now, my soul, lift up thyself again with all thy best endeavours, and join the thousands of saints who are rejoicing in Jesus their Lord. Fly thither in the chariot of faith and hope, and by the fire of love take there thy dwelling ‘where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God’ (Col. iii. 1). Strain thine eye, and see thou in the light of His countenance. Linger about the marks of His blessed Scars, and kiss them one by one with thankful devotion; Scars whence gushed those rivers of the precious Blood with which the only-begotten Son of God paid for thy salvation, and for thy sanctification to eternal life. O Jesus, he who loves Thee not, let him be anathema; whoso loves Thee not, let him be filled with bitterness. Thy love, O Lord, is chaste and admits of no impurity; the savour of Thy love is pure, and draws aside no soul from rectitude; Thy love is sweet, and no bitterness is in it, for it sweetens the world’s bitters, and turns to bitterness its sweets. It is not cramped by adversities, and no oppression overburdens it; it sinks not under want, and is embittered by no grief; it is even and undisturbed in bodily labours, careless of threats, incorruptible in the midst of blandishments; in tortures it remains invincible, and it lives for ever more in death. As the miser gloats over his hoard, and the mother delights in the love of her only child, even so, sweet Jesus, the soul that loves Thee sips joy and gladness from the treasures of Thy dear love. The sweetness of honey, the softness of milk, wine with its freshening taste, and all delight some things—none, none of them so please the palate of those who taste them as Thy love charms the souls of them that love Thee.

O sweet Jesus, living and all-desirable Bread; sweet Fruit of the vine; Oil of mingled rarities; gentle Lamb; strong Lion; lovely Leopard; guileless Dove; swift Eagle; Star of the morning; Sun of eternity; Angel of peace; fontal Light of the sempiternal lights; let my every sense conspire to praise Thee, and love Thee, delight in Thee, and admire Thee; Thee, the God of my heart and my portion, Christ Jesus. Let my heart die to its will, and my flesh to its desires; do Thou live in me, and let the live coal of Thy love glow in the midst of my soul, and break forth into a consuming fire; let Thy grace foster and nourish it in me, that it burn continually on my heart’s altar; let it glow in my inmost marrow, and rage in all the recesses of my soul; and in the perfect day let it be found perfected in Thee. In the day when Thou shalt see me stripped of this clothing of mortality, which I now carry about with me, let Thy Love enfold me, and be for a garment of beauty to my soul; that it be found not naked, but clothed upon, and have wherewithal to hide its infirmities from thine Eye. And that strange, that other fire, the fire that shall burn Thine adversaries; let the fervour of Thy love keep it far from me, and raise my soul to Thee, her Creator, and plunge her deep in the ocean of Thy Light Divine. Jesus, my Lord, let all who love Thee be filled with Thy benedictions; and coming home to Thee let their names be written in heaven, that they may have peace ‘under the covert of Thy wings’ (Ps. lxii. 8). To Thee therefore, only-begotten of God, be with the Eternal Father, and the Holy Ghost, unceasing praise, inviolable beauty, and Kingdom never to be moved, enduring for ever and for evermore. Amen.

The images are all from eleventh- and twelfth-century Canterbury manuscripts, now in the British Library: Harley 603, Arundel 155, and Arundel 91.

A Prayer for the Evening

In manus tuas. Lord, I bitake in to thine hondes, and in to thine hondis of thine halwen, in this nyght my soule and my bodi, myne bretheren and myne sustren, myne frendes, myne cosines, myne kynrede, my goode dedes doares, and alle cristen folk: kepe vs, lord, this nyght, bi the medes and the prayeres of the blessede mayde marie, and of alle halwen, fram vices and couertises, fram sinnes and fram the fendes fondinges, and fram the sodayn deth, and the peynes of helle. Alyghte myne herte of the holi gost, and of thin holi grace: and make me for to ben more bouxom to thi comaundemens, and let me neuere more ben be departed fro the: so be it.


This is a medieval night prayer, preserved in a fourteenth-century manuscript from East Anglia.  Despite its simplicity it has a striking beauty, produced by the rhythmic effect of its calm, measured repetition: fram vices and couertises, fram sinnes and fram the fendes fondinges, and fram the sodayn deth...  It's a style which reached its pinnacle in the elegant collects of the Book of Common Prayer.  And there are some items of vocabulary which delight the ear, too: 'good-deed-doers' as a very literal Englishing of benefactors is perhaps my favourite, but I'm always pleased to see buxom in its original meaning of obedient.

A translation:

Into thy hands. Lord, I commit into thy hands, and into the hands of thy saints, in this night my soul and my body, my brothers and my sisters, my friends, my relations, my family, my benefactors, and all Christian people: protect us, Lord, this night, by the merits and the prayers of the blessed maiden Mary, and of all saints, from vices and desires, from sins and from the fiend's temptations, and from sudden death, and the pains of hell. Illuminate my heart with the Holy Ghost, and with thy holy grace: and make me to be more obedient to thy commandments, and let me never more be parted from thee: Amen.

Two men preparing for bed, from an illustration at the beginning of prayers for Compline,

 in British Library MS Egerton 1151, f.57v

For more translations of hymns and prayers for the night, see also:

Te lucis ante terminum: Various Translations
Christe qui lux es et dies
'I dwell, laid up in Safety's nest'
'Hail, gladdening light'
Rerum, Deus, tenax vigor

This is a setting of the Compline responsory 'In manus tuas' by John Sheppard (c.1515-1558):