Gertrude's Prayer

That which is marred at birth Time shall not mend, Nor water out of bitter well make clean; All evil thing returneth at the end, Or elseway walketh in our blood unseen. Whereby the more is sorrow in certaine-- Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe. To-bruized be that slender, sterting spray Out of the oake's rind that should betide A branch of girt and goodliness, straightway Her spring is turned on herself, and wried And knotted like some gall or veiney wen.-- Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe. Noontide repayeth never morning-bliss-- Sith noon to morn is incomparable; And, so it be our dawning goth amiss, None other after--hour serveth well. Ah! Jesu-Moder, pitie my oe paine-- Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe!