On Habraham the ground he leith, 1650 And made him forto multeplie Into so gret a progenie, That thei Egipte al overspradde. Bot Pharao with wrong hem ladde In servitute ayein the pes, Til god let sende Moises To make the deliverance; And for his poeple gret vengance He tok, which is to hiere a wonder. The king was slain, the lond put under, 1660 God bad the rede See divide, Which stod upriht on either side And yaf unto his poeple a weie, That thei on fote it passe dreie And gon so forth into desert: Wher forto kepe hem in covert, The daies, whan the Sonne brente, A large cloude hem overwente, And forto wissen hem be nyhte, A firy Piler hem alyhte. 1670 And whan that thei for hunger pleigne, The myhti god began to reyne Manna fro hevene doun to grounde, Wherof that ech of hem hath founde His fode, such riht as him liste; And for thei scholde upon him triste, Riht as who sette a tonne abroche, He percede the harde roche, And sprong out water al at wille, That man and beste hath drunke his fille: 1680 And afterward he yaf the lawe To Moises, that hem withdrawe Thei scholden noght fro that he bad. And in this wise thei be lad, Til thei toke in possession The londes of promission, Wher that Caleph and Josuë The Marches upon such degre Departen, after the lignage That ech of hem as Heritage 1690 His porpartie hath underfonge. And thus stod this believe longe, Which of prophetes was governed; And thei hadde ek the poeple lerned Of gret honour that scholde hem falle; Bot ate moste nede of alle Thei faileden, whan Crist was bore. Bot hou that thei here feith have bore, It nedeth noght to tellen al, The matiere is so general: 1700 Whan Lucifer was best in hevene And oghte moste have stonde in evene, Towardes god he tok debat; And for that he was obstinat, And wolde noght to trouthe encline, He fell for evere into ruine: And Adam ek in Paradis, Whan he stod most in al his pris After thastat of Innocence, Ayein the god brak his defence 1710 And fell out of his place aweie: And riht be such a maner weie The Jwes in here beste plit, Whan that thei scholden most parfit Have stonde upon the prophecie, Tho fellen thei to most folie, And him which was fro hevene come, And of a Maide his fleissh hath nome, And was among hem bore and fedd, As men that wolden noght be spedd 1720 Of goddes Sone, with o vois Thei hinge and slowhe upon the crois. Wherof the parfit of here lawe Fro thanne forth hem was withdrawe, So that thei stonde of no merit, Bot in truage as folk soubgit Withoute proprete of place Thei liven out of goddes grace, Dispers in alle londes oute. And thus the feith is come aboute, 1730 That whilom in the Jewes stod, Which is noght parfihtliche good. To speke as it is nou befalle, Ther is a feith aboven alle, In which the trouthe is comprehended, Wherof that we ben alle amended.