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And a meke brother haue glorie in his enhaunsyng,

and a riche man in his lownesse; for as the flour of gras he schal passe.

The sunne roos vp with heete, and driede the gras, and the flour of it felde doun, and the fairnesse of his chere perischide; and so a riche man welewith in hise weies.

But ech man is temptid, drawun and stirid of his owne coueiting.

For wilfulli he bigat vs bi the word of treuthe, that we be a bigynnyng of his creature.

For if ony man is an herere of the word, and not a doere, this schal be licned to a man that biholdith the cheer of his birthe in a mirour;

But he that biholdith in the lawe of perfit fredom, and dwellith in it, and is not maad a foryetful herere, but a doere of werk, this schal be blessid in his dede.

And if ony man gessith hym silf to be religiouse, and refreyneth not his tunge, but disseyueth his herte, the religioun of him is veyn.

Whether Abraham, oure fadir, was not iustified of werkis, offringe Ysaac, his sone, on the auter?

Therfor thou seest, that feith wrouyte with hise werkis, and his feith was fillid of werkis.

Who is wijs, and tauyt among you? schewe he of good lyuyng his worching, in myldenesse of his wisdom.

My britheren, nyle ye bacbite ech othere. He that bacbitith his brothir, ethir that demeth his brothir, bacbitith the lawe, and demeth the lawe. And if thou demest the lawe, thou art not a doere of the lawe, but a domesman.

And eftsoone he preiede, and heuene yaf reyn, and the erthe yaf his fruyt.

he owith to wite, that he that makith a synner to be turned fro the errour of his weye, schal saue the soule of hym fro deth, and keuereth the multitude of synnes.

Blessid be God, and the fadir of oure Lord Jhesu Crist, which bi his greet merci bigat vs ayen in to lyuynge hope, bi the ayen risyng of Jhesu Crist fro deth,

For ech fleisch is hey, and al the glorie of it is as flour of hey; the hei driede vp, and his flour felde doun;

But ye ben a chosun kyn, a kyngli preesthod, hooli folc, a puple of purchasing, that ye telle the vertues of hym, that clepide you fro derknessis in to his wondirful liyt.

Which dide not synne, nethir gile was foundun in his mouth.

And he hym silf bar oure synnes in his bodi on a tre, that we be deed to synnes, and lyue to riytwisnesse, bi whos wan wounde ye ben heelid.

For he that wole loue lijf, and se goode daies, constreyne his tunge from yuel, and hise lippis, that thei speke not gile.