A number of mid 15th century versions of the "Five Joys" (No. 72 also mentions "these joyes sevene") is given at the TEAMS Project site ... The Joys of Mary.
No 74 is a full version of the 5 joys, and includes that beautiful medieval metaphor of the sun shining through glass.
Haile be thu, Mari maiden bright:
Thu teche me the wais right.
I am a sorful, dreri wight,
Als thu mai se,
Quer I sal in the hard pine of hel be.
Mi sinful saule sighes sare:
Lived I have in sin and care,
Leve I wil and do na mare.
Mi levedi fre,
Saul and bodi, liif and dede, biteche I thee.
Thar thu lay in thi bright boure,
Levedi, quite als lelé floure,
An angel com fra hevene toure,
And said, "Levedi, ful of blis, ai worth thee wel!"
Stil thu stod, ne stint thu noght,
Thu said til him the bodword broght,
"Al his wil it sal be wroght,
In his ancele."
Levedi, bifor thi suete sun mak us lele.
The tother joy I wate it was,
Als sun schines thoru the glas,
Sua ert thu, levedi, wemles,
And ai sal be.
Levedi, for that suete joy thu reu on me.
The thrid joy I understand,
Thre kinges com of thrin land,
To fal thi suete sun til hand,
And gaf him gift:
Mir, reclis, and gold red, als it was right.
The king was riche, the gold was rede,
The reclis fel til his goddhed,
Mir to man that sal be dede
For ur sake.our
Levedi, to thi suete sun at ane us make.
The feird it es al thoru his grace,
Wuen he fra dede to liif ras,
Wuen he sua hard suongen was
On rode tre.cross
Levedi, of ur sinnes al thu make us fre.
The fiift, thu was til heven broght:
The Juus thee soght and fand thee noght,
Als thi suete sun it wroght,
Levedi Mari, be ur helpe at ur ending.
Levedi, for thi joies five,
Thu kid thi might and help us suith,
Levedi Mari, moder o live,
Wid flur and fruit,
Rose and leli, thu sprede ay wide and helpe thi suite.
Levedi Mari, wele thu wast,
The feindes fraistes me ful fast,
Wele I hope I sal thaim cast
Thoru might of thee,
Quen I neven thi suete nam I ger thaim fle.
Thir jois er said als I can sai
Mi site, mi soru, I cast away,
Nu help me, levedi, wele thu may,
And be mi spere.
Fra the har pain of hell thu me were.
All that singes this sang
And all that ligges in paines strang,
Thu lede thaim right thar thai ga wrang,
And have merci
On all that trous that Godd was born of thee, fair levedi.