Medieval Poetry (iv)

I think that this will be the last of the medieval poems I post.

This poem exists in various translations - some so different that I wonder if there are two different sources, but that is proving hard to determine.

I use the translation that was made famous by John Rutter: he sets it in his Magnificat.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

Hearken to me both old and young,
How this rose began to spring;
A fairer rose to mine liking,
In all this world ne know I none.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

Five branches of that rose there been,
The which be both fair and sheen;
The rose is called Mary, heaven’s queen.
Out of her bosom a blossom sprang.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

The first branch was of great honour:
That blest Marie should bear the flower;
There came an angel from heaven’s tower,
To break the devil’s bond.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

The second branch was great of might,
That sprang upon Christmas night;
The star shone over Bethlem bright,
That man should see it both day and night.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

The third branch did spring and spread;
Three kinges then the branch gan led,
Unto our Lady in her child-bed;
Into Bethlem that branch sprang right.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

The fourth branch it sprang to hell,
The devil’s power for to fell:
That no soul there-in should dwell,
The branch so blessed fully sprang.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

The fifth branch it was so sweet,
It sprang to heaven, both crop and root,
Therein to dwell and be our bote:
So blessedly it sprang.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.

Pray we to her with great honour,
She that bare the blessed flower,
To be our help and our succour,
And to shield us from the fiendes bond.

Of a Rose, a lovely Rose,
Of a Rose is all my song.