Pharisaeus et Publicanus. Luc. xviii. 14-19.
En duo templum adeunt, diversis mentibus ambo.
Ille procul trepido lumine signat humum:
It gravis hic, et in alta ferox penetralia tendit.
Plus habet hic templi; plus habet ille Dei.
??d?e?, ?d??, ?t????s? ?????, d?? ???? ?s?????.
?????e? ????de? ?e???? ? f???a?????
???' ? ?? ?? s?a??? ???? ???? ????? ????e??
??e??? ? ?? ????, p?e??? ? d' e??e Te??.
Two went up into the Temple to pray.
Two went to pray! O, rather say,
One went to brag, th' other to pray.
One stands up close, and treads on high,
Where th' other dares not send his eye.
One neerer to God's altar trod;
The other to the altar's God. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Two men unto the Temple went to pray.
That, with a downcast look, stood far away;
This, near the altar, himself highly bore:
This of the Temple, that of God hath more. B.
II.
In asinum Christi vectorem. Matt. xxi. 7.
Ille[43] suum didicit quondam objurgare magistrum:
Et quid ni discas tu celebrare tuum?
Mirum non minus est, te jam potuisse tacere,
Illum quam fuerat tum potuisse loqui.
Upon the asse that bore our Saviour.
Hath only Anger an omnipotence
In eloquence?
Within the lips of Love and Joy doth dwell
No miracle?
Why else had Balaam's asse a tongue to chide
His master's pride,
And thou, heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne're a word
To praise thy Lord?
That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder
Was a great wonder;
But O, methinkes, 'tis a farre greater one
That thou find'st none. Cr.
MORE CLOSELY.
The ass of old had power to chide its wilful lord;
And hast not thou the power to speak one praiseful word?
Not less a marvel, sure, this silence is in thee
Than that the ass of old to speak had liberty. G.
III.
Dominus apud suos vilis. Luc. iv. 28-29.
En consanguinei! patriis en exul in oris
Christus! et haud alibi tam peregrinus erat.
Qui socio demum pendebat sanguine latro,
O consanguineus quam fuit ille magis!
The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people.
See, O my kinsmen, what strange thing is this!
Christ in's own country a great stranger is.
The thief which bled upon the Cross with Thee
Was more ally'd in consanguinity.[44] B.
IV.
Ad Bethesdae piscinam positus. Joan. v. 1-16.
Quis novus hic refugis incumbit Tantalus undis,
Quem fallit toties tam fugitiva salus?
Unde hoc naufragium felix medicaeque procellae,
Vitaque tempestas quam pretiosa dedit?
The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda.
What Tantalus is this, who health still craves
So oft, yet vainly, from the refluent waves?
And whence this happy wreck, this healing strife,
This storm that drifts its victim into life? Cl.
ANOTHER VERSION.
What new Tantalus is here,
Couch'd by this swift-ebbing wave,
Whom the healing flood comes near,
Then retiring fails to save?
O, what happy shipwreck this,
And a cure by conflict wrought!
Strange that woe should thus win bliss,
From disaster life be brought! G.
V.
Christus ad Thomam. Joan. xx. 26-29.
Saeva fides, voluisse meos tractare dolores!
Crudeles digiti, sic didicisse Deum!
Vulnera ne dubites, vis tangere nostra: sed, eheu,
Vulnera, dum dubitas, tu graviora facis.
Christ to Thomas.
Harsh faith, and wouldst thou probe these signs of woe?
O cruel fingers, would ye prove God so?
Touch them, lest thou shouldst doubt? Then have thy will;
But, ah, thy doubting makes them deeper still. Cl.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
O cruel faith, afresh my pangs to move!
O ruthless fingers, thus their Lord to prove!
See, touch the wounds; doubt not; but with such doubt
Thou makest all those wounds afresh gush out. A.
VI.
Quisquis perdiderit animam suam mea causa inveniet eam. Matt. xvi. 25.
I, vita, i, perdam: mihi mors tua, Christe, reperta est:
Mors tua vita mea est; mors tibi vita mea.
Aut ego te abscondam Christi, mea vita, sepulchro:
Non adeo procul est tertius ille dies.
Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it.
Away, my life! Lord Christ, I have Thy death:
My life's Thy death, and Thy death gives me breath.
But come, my life, I'll hide thee in His tomb:
The third day hence is not so long to come. A.
VII.
Primo mane venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena. Joan. xx. 1.
Tu matutinos praevertis, sancta, rubores,
Magdala; sed jam tum Sol tuus ortus erat.[45]
Jamque vetus merito vanos sol non agit ortus,
Et tanti radios non putat esse suos.
Quippe aliquo, reor, ille novus jam nictat in astro,
Et se nocturna parvus habet facula.
Quam velit Ô tantae vel nuntius esse diei,
Atque novus Soli Lucifer ire novo!
[Mary] Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto the sepulchre.
Thou holy Magdalene,
Ere rosy morn was seen,
Awokest; but e'en then
Thy Sun was in thy ken.
Now the great olden sun,
Rising as wont upon
The earth, is wilderÈd
With new beams round him shed.
Lo, as a star he seems,
Or torch with nigh-quench'd beams;
Keeping himself still small
Before the Lord of All.
How well might'st thou, O Sun,
Submit to be outshone,
And, as a morning-star,
Herald One grander far! G.
VIII.
Quinque panes ad quinque hominum millia. Joan. vi. 9.
En mensae faciles, redivivaque vulnera coenae,
Quaeque indefessa provocat ora dape!
Aucta Ceres stupet arcana se crescere messe.
Denique quid restat? Pascitur ipse cibus.
On the miracle of multiplyed loaves.
See here an easie feast that knows no wound,
That under Hunger's teeth will needs be found;
A subtle harvest of unbounded bread:
What would ye more? Here Food itselfe is fed. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Eas'ly-furnish'd table!
And feast increas'd by eating:
Still the mouth entreating.
The bread itself, unable
To tell whence it flows,
Finds it most surely grows.
Finds itself guest—no fable!
Whence is the mystic dower?
From Him Who is all power. G.
IX.
Æthiops lotus. Act. viii. 38.
Ille niger sacris exit, quam lautus! ab undis:
Nec frustra Æthiopem nempe lavare fuit.
Mentem quam niveam piceae cutis umbra fovebit?
Tam volet et nigros sancta Columba lares.
On the baptized Ethiopian.
Let it no longer be a forlorne hope
To wash an Ethiope:
He's washt; his gloomy skin a peacefull shade
For his white soule is made:
And now, I doubt not, the Eternall Dove
A black-fac'd house will love. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
How fair this Ethiop comes from th' holy fount!
To wash a Black we may not vain account.
How bright a soul is in a cloudy skin!
The Dove now loves a black house to dwell in. B.
X.
Publicanus procul stans percutiebat pectus suum. Luc. xviii. 13.
Ecce hic peccator timidus petit advena templum:
Quodque audet solum, pectora moesta ferit.
Fide miser; pulsaque fores has fortiter: illo
Invenies templo tu propiore Deum.
The publican standing afar off smote on his breast.
Lo, a sinner, timid stranger,
Stranger to the Lord our God,
Seeks, in consciousness of danger,
Where to leave sin's awful load.
He to the Temple now is come,
Bow'd in dread beside the door;
His pallid lips, behold, are dumb;
He smites his bosom, dares no more.
Ah, distress'd one, smite thee there
In that temple, God is near. G.
XI.
[In] obolum viduae. Marc. xii. 44.
Gutta brevis nummi, vitae patrona senilis,
E digitis stillat non dubitantis anus;
Istis multa vagi spumant de gurgite census:
Isti abjecerunt scilicet; illa dedit.
?e?at???? ?a?e?a ?a???, ??t??? t' ?fa????
?????, ?p?st??e? ?e???? ?p? t??e???.
???? d? ??as???t? p???? ?f??? ??a?d??? ????.
?? ?? ?p????pt??? ?e??a d?d??e ????.
The widow's mites.
Two mites, two drops—yet all her house and land—
Falle from a steady heart though trembling hand:
The others' wanton wealth foams high and brave.
The other cast away; she only gave. Cr.
XII.
Maria vero assidens ad pedes ejus audiebat eum. Luc. x. 39.
Aspice, namque novum est, ut ab hospite pendeat hospes!
Hinc ori parat, hoc sumit ab ore cibos.
Tune epulis adeo es, soror, officiosa juvandis,
Et sinis has, inquit, Martha, perire dapes?
Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word.
Behold, a new thing here—host hanging on her Guest!
Preparing for His mouth, His mouth's words are her feast!
O Martha sister, spare thy labour and thy cost:
Tending the food that perisheth, diviner food is lost. G.
XIII.
In Spiritus Sancti descensum. Act. ii.
Ferte sinus, Ô, ferte: cadit vindemia coeli,
Sanctaque ab aethereis volvitur uva jugis.
Felices nimium, queis tam bona musta bibuntur;
In quorum gremium lucida pergit hiems!
En caput, en ut nectareo micat et micat astro;
Gaudet et in roseis viva corona comis.
Illis, Ô Superi, quis sic neget ebrius esse?
Illis, ne titubent, dant sua vina faces.
The descent of the Holy Spirit.
Bear, O bosoms, bear ye what Heaven's vintage showers,
Sacred clusters pouring from ethereal bowers.
Too happy, surely, ye who drink of wine so good;
It comes into your bosoms a sparkling, cooling flood.
Behold, with nectar'd star each head is shining, shining;
Around your purpl'd locks a crown of life entwining.
O Spirit of all flesh, to drink who'd be denied,
Since Thou, lest they should falter, mak'st wine a torch to guide? G.
XIV.
Congestis omnibus peregre profectus est. Luc. xv. 13.
Dic mihi, quo tantos properas, puer auree, nummos?
Quorsum festinae conglomerantur opes?
Cur tibi tota vagos ructans patrimonia census?
Non poterunt siliquae nempe minoris emi?
ON THE PRODIGALL.
The younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country.
Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
Whither away so frolick? why so glad?
What all thy wealth in counsile? all thy state?
Are husks so deare? troth, 'tis a mighty rate. Cr.
XV.
Non solum vinciri, sed et mori paratus sum. Act. xxi. 13.
Non modo vinc'la, sed et mortem tibi, Christe, subibo,
Paulus ait, docti callidus arte doli.
Diceret hoc aliter: Tibi non modo velle ligari,
Christe, sed et solvi[46] nempe paratus ero.
I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye.
Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my eares,
At those hard words man's cowardize calls feares.
Save those of feare, no other bands feare I;
Nor other death than this—the feare to die. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Not bonds for Thee, Lord, but death too I'll brave,
Says Paul, adept in double-meanings grave.
The words meant more: his wish was to be bound
For Christ; but loosÈd too, and with Him found. G.
XVI.
In Herodem s????????t??. Act. xii. 23.
Ille Deus, Deus! haec populi vox unica: tantum,
Vile genus, vermes credere velle negant.
At cito se miseri, cito nunc errasse fatentur;
Carnes degustant, ambrosiamque putant.
On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms.
A god! a god! one-mouth'd the people cry;
Only the worms, vile tribe, his claim deny.
Yet they, too, soon confess themselves astray,
For in his flesh they find ambrosia. Cl.
XVII.
Videns ventum magnum timuit, et cum coepisset demergi, clamavit, &c. Matt. xiv.
Petre, cades, Ô, si dubitas: Ô, fide: nec ipsum,
Petre, negat fidis aequor habere fidem.
Pondere pressa suo subsidunt caetera: solum,
Petre, tuae mergit te levitatis onus.[47]
When he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, &c.
Peter! doubt, and thou sinkest! O, believe;
The sea will not thy faith, Peter, deceive.
Things by their weight subside into the wave;
Thy lightness, Peter, threats a wat'ry grave. G.
XVIII.
Obtulit eis pecunias. Act. viii. 18.
Quorsum hos hic nummos profers? quorsum, impie Simon?
Non ille hic Judas, sed tibi Petrus adest.
Vis emisse Deum? potius, precor, hoc age, Simon,
Si potes, ipse prius daemona vende tuum.
He offered them money.
Money! what wouldst thou, impious? Look and see,
'Tis Peter, not Iscariot, speaks to thee.
Wouldst thou buy God? Nay, Simon, change thy tone,
And try to sell that demon of thine own. Cl.
XIX.
Umbra S. Petri medetur aegrotis. Act. v. 15.
Conveniunt alacres, sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras,
Atque umbras fieri, creditis? umbra vetat.
O Petri umbra potens, quae non miracula praestat?
Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus.
The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick.
Beneath that shadow they delight to crowd;
To turn to shades by that shade not allow'd.
From Peter's shadow what may we not hope,
Now all thy glory it sustains, O Pope! G.
XX.
Tetigit linguam ejus, &c. ... et loquebatur ... et praecepit illis ne cui dicerent: illi vero eo magis praedicabant. Marc. vii. 33, 36.
Christe, jubes muta ora loqui; muta ora loquuntur:
Sana tacere jubes ora; nec illa tacent.
Si digito tunc usus eras, muta ora resolvens;
Nonne opus est tota nunc tibi, Christe, manu?
The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence.
Christ bids the dumbe tongue speake; it speakes: the sound
Hee charges to be quiet; it runs round.
If in the first He us'd His finger's touch,
His hand's whole strength here could not be too much. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,
Straightway words flow:
Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they
Thee disobey.
If, then, a single finger Thou didst use
Mute tongues to loose,
Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young
Have ceaseless tongue. G.
XXI.
Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit. Luc. x. 32.
Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?
O dolor! Ô nostris vulnera vulneribus!
Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!
Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.
And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and passed by.
Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?
The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,
Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?
Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.
O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:
They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more. G.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Canst look, and by with look so tranquil pass,
Nor heed my wounds? O, wounds on wounds, alas!
O peace, too grim! on it set little store:
Who looks unmov'd on misery makes it more. A.
XXII.
Leprosi ingrati. Luc. xvii.
Dum linquunt Christum, ah morbus! sanantur euntes:
Ipse etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
At sani Christum, mens ah male-sana! relinquunt:
Ipsa etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
The ungrateful lepers.
Whilst leaving Christ—ah, fell disease!—
They're healÈd as they go:
Their malady their medicine is,
Because He will'd it so.
But healÈd now—ah, mind diseas'd!—
They from the Lord depart:
Their healing their disease is now,
Bred in an ingrate heart. G.
XXIII.
Ne soliciti estote tu crastinum. Matt. vi. 34.
I, miser, inque tuas rape non tua tempora curas:
Et nondum natis perge perire malis.
Mi querulis satis una dies, satis angitur horis:
Una dies lacrymis mi satis uda suis.
Non mihi venturos vacat expectare dolores:
Nolo ego, nolo hodie crastinus esse miser.
Be ye not fretted about to-morrow.
Go, wretched mortal, antedate the day,
Fill thee with care;
Work thyself mis'ries, in a perverse way,
Before they're there.
Enough for me the day's cares in the day,
The passing hour;
Enough the tears that daily, yea or nay,
In sorrow low'r.
I have no leisure thus to antedate
The coming woe,
Nor to-day darken with to-morrow's fate;
And so I go. G.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Wretch, to thy woes add not
to-morrow morn;
And haste not thou to
groan with ills unborn.
Each day's laments, each
hour's griefs, me suffice;
Each morn, noon, eve, with
rueful weeping eyes.
No leisure is to look for
griefs to be:
Stir not to-day to-morrow's
pains in me. A.
XXIV.
A telonio Matthaeus. Matt. ix. 9.
Ah satis, ah nimis est: noli ultra ferre magistrum,
Et lucro domino turpia colla dare.
Jam fuge; jam, Matthaee, feri fuge regna tyranni:
Inque bonam, felix i fugitive,[48] crucem.
Matthew called from the receipt of custom.
Enough, too much; no more a master's yoke
Endure, nor bow to lordly Lucre's stroke:
His service from thy slavish neck is broke.
Flee, Matthew, flee the cruel tyrant's sway,
And hie thee, like a happy runaway,
To the sweet cross that waits for thee to-day. R. Wi.
XXV.
Viduae filius e feretro matri redditur. Luc. vii. 15.
En redeunt, lacrymasque breves nova gaudia pensant;
Bisque illa est, uno in pignore, facta parens.
Felix quae magis es nati per funera mater:
Amisisse, iterum cui peperisse fuit.
The dead son re-delivered to his mother.
Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd,
Brief sorrow is exil'd,
And the lorn widow is a mother made
Twice in her only child.
O happy mother! then a mother most
When all her hopes seem'd vain:
Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost,
And found him born again. Cl.
XXVI.
Bonum intrare in coelos cum uno oculo, &c. Matt. xviii. 9.
Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum:
Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?
Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus
Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.
It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.
One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more,
To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore
Of eyes that has but Argus' store!
Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee,
O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be
All and every whit of me. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give
A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.
All Argus' eyes were no superlative
To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.
Or, O my God, if unto those who die,
It be Thy will only to give one eye,
Grant my whole body that one eye to be,
That thus I may forever gaze on Thee. G.
XXVII.
Hydropicus sanatur. Luc. xiv. 2-4.
Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso
Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis:
Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas;
Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.
Himself is his own sea;
Dropsy his malady
In sad severity.
But Christ the Lord he sees,
Who touching him him frees;
Now joyous and at ease.
Again, as I opine,
The Lord transmutes to wine
By miracle divine;
And now, still more and more,
His own wine-water store
Pours mirth at ev'ry pore. G.
XXVIII.
Non erat iis in diversorio locus. Luc. ii. 7.
Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?
Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.
O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!
Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.
There was no room for them in the inn.
No place for Him! So Him you drive away;
You drive away your God, your God. O, stay!
O height of human madness! wonders rare!
No place for Him! without Whom no place were. G.
XXIX.
In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite. Luc. xvi.
Felix, Ô, lacrymis, Ô Lazare, ditior istis,
Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes:
Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis,
Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.
Upon Lazarus his teares.
Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares,
Than Dives in the roabes he weares:
He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well
With th' purple he must weare in Hell! Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears
Than he who midst his riches purple wears.
Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his:
Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!
XXX.
Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti. Matt. xxvi. 65.
Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis:
Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.
Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos
Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.
Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ.
Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!
His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.
Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he
Who leaves not God His own Divinity! G.
XXXI.
Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum. Joan. xii. 37.
Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant;
O verbi, Ô dextrae dulcia regna tuae!
Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?
Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.[49]
But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on Him.
For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord;
Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.
Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus
Made unbelief itself miraculous. Cl.
XXXII.
Ad S. Andream piscatorem. Marc. i. 16.
To S. Andrew, fisherman.
How cleverly the fishes he beguiles!
He learns to use a hundred cunning wiles.
Ho, thou good Fisher: Christ casts out His net;
Now haste thou to be caught; for thee 'tis set. G.
XXXIII.
Ego sum vox, &c. Joan. i. 23.
Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
Si vox es, genitor cur tibi mutus erat?
Ista tui fuerant quam mira silentia patris!
Vocem non habuit tunc quoque cum genuit.
I am the voice.
'I am the voice,' thou sayest. Thou holy John,
If voice thou art, why was thy father dumb?
O silence strange! which as I muse upon,
I see thy voice from God, not man, did come. G.
XXXIV.
Vincula sponte decidunt. Act. xii. 7.
Qui ferro Petrum cumulas, durissime custos,
A ferro disces mollior esse tuo.
Ecce fluit, nodisque suis evolvitur ultro:
I, fatue, et vinc'lis vincula pone tuis.
The chains spontaneously fall off.
Who loadest him with chains, thou jailer stern,
To be more kind e'en from those chains shalt learn.
Lo, they dissolve, and their own knots untie.
Go, fool, and chains with chains to fetter try. G.
XXXV.
IN DIEM OMNIUM SANCTORUM.
Ne laedite terrain, neque mare, neque arbores, quousque obsignaverimus servos Dei nostri in frontibus suis. Rev. vii. 3.
Nusquam immitis agat ventus sua murmura, nusquam
Sylva tremat, crispis sollicitata comis.
Aequa Thetis placide allabens ferat oscula Terrae;
Terra suos Thetidi pandat amica sinus:
Undique pax effusa piis volet aurea pennis,
Frons bona dum signo est quaeque notata suo.
Ah, quid in hoc opus est signis aliunde petendis?
Frons bona sat lacrymis quaeque notata suis.
On All-Saints' Day.
Let wind with murmurs harsh nowhere be heard;
Nowhere wood tremble, its curl'd tresses stirr'd.
Calm-flowing Sea greet Earth with kisses bland,
Earth unto Sea its bosom kind expand.
Let holy Peace on golden pinions steal,
Till each blest brow is mark'd with its own seal.
Ah, why elsewhere for this, need signs be sought?
To each blest brow tears seal enough have brought. R. Wi.
XXXVI.
In die Conjurationis sulphureae.
Quam bene dispositis annus dat currere festis!
Post omnes Sanctos omne scelus sequitur.
Upon the Powder-day.
How fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow!
All-mischiefe comes after All-Hallow.[50] Cr.
XXXVII.
Deus sub utero Virginis. Luc. i. 31.
Ecce tuus, Natura, pater; pater hic tuus hic est:
Ille, uterus matris quem tenet, ille pater.
Pellibus exiguis arctatur Filius ingens,
Quem tu non totum, crede, nec ipsa capis.
Quanta uteri, Regina, tui reverentia tecum est,
Dum jacet hic coelo sub breviore Deus!
Conscia divino gliscunt praecordia motu,
Nec vehit aethereos sanctior aura polos.
Quam bene sub tecto tibi concipiuntur eodem
Vota, et, vota cui concipienda, Deus!
Quod nubes alia, et tanti super atria coeli
Quaerunt, invenient hoc tua vota domi.
O felix anima haec, quae tam sua gaudia tangit!
Sub conclave suo cui suus ignis adest.
Corpus amet, licet, illa suum, neque sidera malit:
Quod vinc'lum est aliis, hoc habet illa domum.
Sola jaces, neque sola; toro quocunque recumbis,
Illo estis positi tuque tuusque toro.
Immo ubi casta tuo posita es cum conjuge conjunx;
Quod mirum magis est, es tuus ipsa torus.
God in the Virgin's womb.
Thy Father, Nature, here thy Father see:
Whom womb of mother holds, thy Father He.
Scant teguments the mighty Son enchain,
Whom thou thyself not wholly dost contain.
What reverence, Queen, to thine own womb is given,
While God lies here beneath a lesser heaven!
With sacred motion swells her conscious breast;
Nor are the poles upborne by airs more blest.
'Neath the same roof are well conceiv'd by thee
Vows, and the God to whom vows offer'd be.
What other prayers o'er clouds and sky's vast bound
Seek, by thy prayers this will at home be found.
Blest soul, so nigh to thy supreme desire,
To which 'neath its own shrine dwells its own fire.
She may her body love, nor heaven prefer:
What chains down others is a home to her.
Lone, yet not lone, where'er thou dost recline;
On that same couch are laid both thou and thine.
Nay, when with thy chaste spouse, chaste wife thou'rt laid—
More strange, thyself thine own blest couch art made. R. Wi.
XXXVIII.
Ad Judaeos mactatores Stephani. Act. vii. 59.
Frustra illum increpitant, frustra vaga saxa: nec illi
Grandinis, heu, saevae! dura procella nocet.
Ista potest tolerare, potest nescire; sed illi,
Quae sunt in vestro pectore, saxa nocent.
To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen.
Vainly ye cast stones, Jews; they give no shock:
Shower as the hail-storm, it is all in vain.
These he shall bear, and heed not: 'tis the rock
Of your obdurate hearts that gives him pain. G.
XXXIX.
D. Joannes in exilio. Rev. i. 9.
Exul, amor Christi est: Christum tamen invenit exul:
Et solitos illic invenit ille sinus.
Ah, longo, aeterno ah terras indicite nobis
Exilio, Christi si sinus exilium est.
St. John in exile.
Love to Christ an exile is,
Yet the exile findeth Christ;
All the dear familiar bliss,
And the bosom-joys unpric'd.
Ah, Lord, exile long to us,
Never-ending e'en be sent,
If we find Christ's bosom thus
As our place of banishment. G.
XL.
Ad infantes martyres. Matt. ii. 16.
Fundite ridentes animas, effundite coelo;
Discet ibi vestra, Ô quam bene! lingua loqui.
Nec vos lac vestrum et maternos quaerite fontes:
Quae vos expectat lactea tota via est.
To the infant martyrs.
Go, smiling soules, your new-built cages breake,
In Heav'n you'l learne to sing ere here to speake:
Nor let the milky fonts that bath your thirst
Bee your delay;
The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
Milke all the way. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Depart, ye smiling souls, to Heaven depart:
Your tongues may there learn best the speaking art.
Stay not to suck, sweet children, do not stay:
Cry not; for you shall go the milky way. B.
XLI.
Quaerit Jesum suum beata Virgo. Luc. ii. 45.
Ah, redeas miserae, redeas, puer alme, parenti;
Ah, neque te coelis tam cito redde tuis.
Coelum nostra tuum fuerint, Ô, brachia, si te
Nostra suum poterunt brachia ferre Deum.
The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus.
Ah, to Thy mother, ah, return,
my fair, belovÈd Son;
Return not to Thy native skies,
my heaven-descended One.
Thy mother's arms Thy heaven would be,
enfolding Thee around;
If thus within these innocent arms
the great God might be found.[51] G.
XLII.
Non sum dignus ut sub tecta mea venias. Matt. viii. 8.
In tua tecta Deus veniet: tuus haud sinit illud
Et pudor atque humili in pectore celsa fides.
Illum ergo accipies, quoniam non accipis: ergo
In te jam veniet, non tua tecta Deus.[52]
I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roofe.
Thy God was making hast into thy roofe;
Thy humble faith and feare keepes him aloofe.
Hee'll be thy guest, because He may not be;
Hee'll come—into thy house? No, into thee. Cr.
XLIII.
Christus accusatus nihil respondet. Matt. xxvii. 12.
Nil ait: Ô sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!
Ponderis Ô quanti res nihil illud erat!
Ille olim verbum qui dixit, et omnia fecit,
Verbum non dicens omnia nunc reficit.
And He answered them nothing.
O mighty Nothing! unto thee,
Nothing, wee owe all things that bee.
God spake once when Hee all things made,
Hee sav'd all when Hee Nothing said.
The world was made of Nothing then;
'Tis made by Nothing now againe. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
'Nothing He said.'
O precious silence of that sacred tongue!
O what vast interests on that Nothing hung!
He who once spoke the word, and all things made,
Now re-makes all, when not a word is said. G.
XLIV.
Nunc dimittis. Luc. ii. 29.
Spesne meas tandem ergo mei tenuere lacerti?
Ergo bibunt oculos lumina nostra tuos?
Ergo bibant: possintque novam sperare juventam:
O possint senii non meminisse sui!
Immo mihi potius mitem mors induat umbram,
Esse sub his oculis si tamen umbra potest.
Ah, satis est. Ego te vidi, puer auree, vidi:
Nil post te, nisi te, Christe, videre volo.[53]
Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.
And is my hope grasp'd in these arms of mine
At last, and do these eyes drink light from Thine?
There let them drink with a new youth in store,
And feel the dimming touch of age no more.
Nay rather, if Thine eyes can give it room,
Let Death's soft shadow gently o'er them come.
Thee have I seen, O Child: enough for me:
I care not to behold aught else but Thee. Cl.
XLV.
Verbum inter spinas. Luc. viii. 7.
Saepe Dei verbum sentes cadit inter, et atrum
Miscet spina procax, ah, male juncta! latus.
Credo quidem: nam sic spinas, ah, scilicet inter
Ipse Deus verbum tu quoque, Christe, cadis.
The Word among thorns.
Often and often 'good words' fall
Where thorns and briars rankly crawl;
Their spines lay hold, and choke, and pierce—
Like to wild beast in hunger fierce.
I know it: for like flash of sword
I read 'twas so with Thee the Word:
God, e'en my God, Thou wast in truth;
But fell'st 'mong thorns, which show'd no ruth. G.
XLVI.
Sabbatum Judaicum et Christianum. Luc. xiv. 5.
Res eadem vario quantum distinguitur usu:
Nostra hominem servant sabbata, vestra bovem.
Observent igitur, pacto quid justius isto?
Sabbata nostra homines, sabbata vestra boves.
The Judaic and Christian Sabbath.
How diff'rent grows a thing through diff'rent use!
Our Sabbaths serve men, yours give oxen truce,
Be this agreed—arrangement fitter none—
Our Sabbath men keep, yours oxen alone. G.
XLVII.
Ad verbum Dei sanatur caecus. Marc. x. 52.
Christe, loquutus eras, Ô sacra licentia verbi:
Jamque novus caeci fluxit in ora dies.
Jam credo, Nemo[54] est, sicut Tu, Christe, loquutus:
Auribus? immo oculis, Christe, loquutus eras.
The blind cured by the word of our Saviour.
Thou spak'st the word—Thy word's a law;
Thou spak'st, and straight the blind man saw.
To speak and make the blind to see,
Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.
To speak thus was to speak, say I,
Not to his eare, but to his eye. Cr.
XLVIII.
Onus meum leve est. Matt. xi. 30.
Esse levis quicunque voles, onus accipe Christi:
Ala tuis humeris, non onus, illud erit.
Christi onus an quaeris quam sit grave? scilicet audi,
Tam grave, ut ad summos te premat usque polos.
My burden is light.
Askest how thou may'st lightly loaded be?
Christ's burden take from me:
A wing to lift, no load to press thee down,
Thou it wilt feel and own.
Dost ask how heavy may Christ's burden be?
Then list, O man, to me:
So heavy, that whoe'er 'neath it enrolls,
It lifts to the highest poles. G.
XLIX.
Miraculum quinque panum. Joan. vi. 1-13.
Ecce, vagi venit unda cibi; venit indole sacra
Fortis, et in dentes fertilis innumeros.
Quando erat invictae tam sancta licentia coenae?
Illa famem populi poscit, et illa fidem.
On the miracle of loaves.
Now, Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on Thee;
Thou to their teeth hast prov'd Thy deity. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
See, loaves in heaps, blest growth, spread far and wide,
For mouths innumerable multiplied.
Feast holy, free, invincible like this,
Claims the crowd's hunger, and their faith, I wis. R. Wi.
L.
Nunc scimus te habere daemonium. Joan. viii. 52.
Aut Deus, aut saltem daemon tibi notior esset,
Gens mala, quae dicis daemona habere Deum.
Ignorasse Deum poteras, Ô caeca; sed oro,
Et patrem poteras tam male nosse tuum?
Now we know Thee to have a devil.
God or the devil by you
ought better to be known,
Ye wicked ones, who charge
your God a devil to own.
Ign'rant of God, indeed,
ye well might be; but O,
The devil, your own father,
how could ye fail to know? G.
LI.
In beatae Virginis verecundiam.
In gremio, quaeris, cur sic sua lumina Virgo
Ponat? ubi melius poneret illa, precor?
O ubi, quam coelo, melius sua lumina ponat?
Despicit, at coelum sic tamen illa videt.
On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness.
That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.
The faire starre is well fixt, for where, O, where,
Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare?
'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heaven's God there lyes;
She can see Heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes.
This new guest to her eyes new lawes hath given:
'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven. Cr.
LII.
In vulnera Dei pendentis.
O frontis, lateris, manuumque pedumque cruores;
O quae purpureo flumina fonte patent:
In nostram, ut quondam, pes non valet ire salutem,
Sed natat; in fluviis, ah, natat ille suis.
Fixa manus; dat, fixa: pios bona dextera rores
Donat, et in donum solvitur ipsa suum.
O latus, Ô torrens; quis enim torrentior exit
Nilus, ubi pronis praecipitatur aquis?
Mille et mille simul cadit et cadit undique guttis
Frons: viden' ut saevus purpuret ora pudor?
Spinae hoc irriguae florent crudeliter imbre,
Inque novas sperant protinus ire rosas.
Quisque capillus it exiguo tener alveus amne,
Hoc quasi de rubro rivulus oceano.
O nimium vivae pretiosis amnibus undae:
Fons vitae nunquam verior ille fuit.
On the wounds of our crucified Lord.
O bleeding wounds of brow, feet, hands, and side;
Rivers which from a purple fount spread wide.
No more to save us now that foot can go,
But swims in streams which from its own wounds flow.
Transfix'd His hand yet gives—gives dewdrops holy,
And into its own gift is melted wholly.
O side, O torrent; for with torrent strong
What flooded Nile more swift is driven along?
Drops from His brow in thousands fall and fall;
See to His face a cruel blush they call.
By this sad shower the thorns unkindly nurst
Soon into new-blown roses hope to burst.
Each hair becomes a slender streamlet's bed,
As if a rivulet from this ocean red.
O waves too much alive with precious streams,
Nowhere a fount of life more truly gleams.[55] R. Wi.
LIII.
Quare cum Publicanis manducat Magister vester? Matt. ix. 11.
Ergo istis socium se peccatoribus addit?
Ergo istis sacrum non negat ille latus?
Tu, Pharisaee, rogas, Jesus cur fecerit istud?
Nae dicam: Jesus, non Pharisaeus, erat.
Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?
Wherefore associates He with sinners vile?
Why hides He not His holy self the while?
Askest thou, Pharisee, how this can be?
Because 'tis Jesus, not a Pharisee. G.
LIV.
Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus.
Ipsum, ipsum, precor, Ô potius mini, candide, monstra:
Ipsi, ipsi Ô lacrymis oro sit ire meis.
Si monstrare locum satis est, et dicere nobis,
En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus;
Ipsa ulnas monstrare meas, et dicere possum,
En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus.
Fa?d??, ?? a?t?? ????? ?? de?????? a?t??.
??t?? ??, d??a?, a?t?? ??? d????a.
?? d? t?p?? ?? de?????a? ???? ?st?, ?a? e?pe??,
?de te??, ?a???, ???de, ?e?t? ??a??
??????a? ?? de?????a? d??aa? ?e ?a? e?pe??,
?de te??, ?a???, ???de, ?e?t? ??a?.
Come, see the place where the Lord lay.
Show me Himselfe, Himselfe, bright Sir, O show
Which way my poore tears to Himselfe may goe.
Were it enough to show the place, and say,
Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay;
Then could I show these armes of mine, and say,
Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay.
Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord.
Here, where our Lord once laid His head,
Now the grave lies buried. Cr.
LV.
Leprosi ingrati. Luc. xvii. 11-19.
Lex jubet ex hominum coetu procul ire leprosos:
At mundi a Christo cur abiere procul?
Non abit, at sedes tantum mutavit in illis;
Et lepra, quae fuerat corpore, mente sedet.
Sic igitur digna vice res variatur; et a se
Quam procul ante homines, nunc habuere Deum.
The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)
The Lord commands the lepers
far off from men to stay:
But cleansÈd by the Lord,
why went the Nine away?
The leprosy remaineth,
chang'd only in its seat:
ExpellÈd from the body,
to the soul it makes retreat.
Now by fit retribution
a change is brought about:
Before shut out from men,
from God they're now shut out. G.
LVI.
In cicatrices quas Christus habet in se adhuc superstites. Joan. xx.
Quicquid spina procax, vel stylo clavus acuto,
Quicquid purpurea scripserat hasta nota,
Vivit adhuc tecum; sed jam tua vulnera non sunt:
Non, sed vulneribus sunt medicina meis.
On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds.
Whatever story of their crueltie,
Or naile, or thorne, or speare have writ in Thee,
Are in another sence
Still legible;
Sweet is the difference:
Once I did spell
Every red letter
A wound of Thine;
Now, what is better,
Balsome for mine. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Each bloody, cruel character,
Thorn, nail, and spear had written,
When here, as man's great Arbiter,
On Calvary Thou wert smitten,
Thou wearest still above, O Lord:
But now no longer wounds they are;
According to Thy Holy Word,
They med'cine for my wounds declare. G.
LVII.
Aeger implorat umbram D. Petri. Act. v. 15.
Petre, tua lateam paulisper, Petre, sub umbra:
Sic mea me quaerent fata, nec invenient.
Umbra dabit tua posse meum me cernere solem;
Et mea lux umbrae sic erit umbra tuae.
The sick implore St. Peter's shadow.
Under thy shadow may I lurke awhile,
Death's busie search I'le easily beguile:
Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the sun;
My light's thy shadowe's shadow, or 'tis done. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
O Peter, Peter, let thy shadow fall
Where I in wretchedness a-weary crawl:
Here vainly shall my fates upon me call.
Thy shadow me shall guide unto my sun—
Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?—
And so my light, thy shadow, shall be one. G.
LVIII.
Quid turbati estis? Videte manus meas et pedes, quia ego ipse sum. Luc. xxiv. 39.
En me et signa mei, quondam mea vulnera: certe,
Vos nisi credetis, vulnera sunt et adhuc.
O nunc ergo fidem sanent mea vulnera vestram:
O mea nunc sanet vulnera vestra fides.
Why are ye troubled?... Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I myself.
'Tis I; behold My proofs, My wounds of old;
Wounds which still bleed, if you will not believe.
O, now to heal your faith My wounds behold,
And healing from your faith My wounds receive.
LIX.
In vincula Petro sponte delapsa, et apertas fores. Act. xii. 7, 10.
Ferri non meminit ferrum: se vincula Petro
Dissimulant: nescit carcer habere fores.
Quam bene liber erit, carcer quem liberat! ipsa
Vincula quem solvunt, quam bene tutus erit!
The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, and the (prison)-doors opened.
Iron forgets 'tis iron;
the chains dissemble too;
Nor has the prison doors
for Peter now.
Free truly is that pris'ner
who by the prison's freed;
Whom chains themselves unbind
free is indeed.
LX.
Deferebantur a corpore ejus sudaria, &c. Act. xix. 12.
Imperiosa premunt morbos, et ferrea fati
Jura ligant, Pauli lintea tacta manu.
Unde haec felicis laus est et gloria lini?
Haec, reor, e Lachesis pensa fuere colo.
From his body there were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs, &c.
They quell disease, and sway Fate's iron bands,
These lordly linen cloths touched by Paul's hands.
Whence rose the glory of their happy fame?
From the Fates' distaff, sure, these kerchiefs came. R. Wi.
LXI.
Christus vitis ad vinitorem Patrem. Joan. xv. 1-6.
En serpit tua, purpureo tua palmite vitis
Serpit, et, ah, spretis it per humum foliis.
Tu viti succurre tuae, mi Vinitor ingens:
Da fulcrum; fulcrum da mihi: quale? crucem.
Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father.
Lo, Thy vine trails, trails with a purple shoot,
Scatt'ring its leaves before it beareth fruit.
Succour Thy vine, great Vinedresser, from loss:
Support, support me, Lord: how? With Thy cross. G.
LXII.
Pene persuades mihi ut fiam Christianus. Act. xxvi. 28.
Pene? quid hoc pene est? Vicinia saeva salutis!
O quam tu malus es proximitate boni!
Ah, portu qui teste perit, bis naufragus ille est;
Hunc non tam pelagus, quam sua terra premit.
Quae nobis spes vix absunt, crudelius absunt:
Pene sui felix, emphasis est miseri.
Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.
Almost? What word is this we hear?
O doubly lost, with heaven so near!
To perish in the neighbourhood
Of vast but unavailing good!
He shipwreck undergoes twice o'er
Who perishes in sight of shore,
And less by ocean is o'ercome
Than by that hopeless glimpse of home.
The hopes that almost seem our own
Leave all the keener sting when gone;
And just to miss felicity
Is but emphatic misery. Cl.
LXIII.
Lux venit in mundum, sed dilexerunt homines magis tenebras quam lucem. Joan. iii. 19.
Luce sua venit ecce Deus, mundoque refulget;
Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas.
At Stygiis igitur mundus damnabitur umbris:
Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas?
But men loved darkness rather than light.
The world's Light shines: shine as it will,
The world will love its darknesse still.
I doubt though, when the world's in hell,
It will not love its darknesse halfe so well. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Behold the day of Christ! God comes with light;
Yet the world loves the darkness of the night.
Therefore the world to Stygian darkness will
Be damn'd: and doth the world love darkness still? B.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Dives implorat guttam. Luc. xvi. 24.
O mihi si digito tremat et tremat unica summo
Gutta! Ô si flammas mulceat una meas!
Currat opum quocunque volet levis unda mearum;
Una mihi haec detur gemmula, Dives ero.
Dives asking a drop.
A drop, one drop! how sweetly one faire drop
Would tremble on my pearle-tipt finger's top!
My wealth is gone: O, goe it where it will,
Spare this one iewell, I'le be Dives still. Cr.
LXV.
Quomodo potest homo gigni qui est senex? Joan. iii. 4.
Dic, Phoenix unde in nitidos novus emicat annos,
Plaudit et elusos aurea penna rogos?
Quis colubrum dolus insinuat per secula retro,
Et jubet emeritum luxuriare latus?
Cur rostro pereunte suam praedata senectam
Torva ales, rapido plus legit ore diem?
Immo, sed ad nixus praestat Lucina secundos?
Natales seros unde senex habeat.
Ignoras, Pharisaee? sat est: jam credere disces:
Dimidium fidei, qui bene nescit, habet.
How can a man be born when he is old?
See how new Phoenix into bright life springs,
And fans the unhurting flames with golden wings.
O'er snake what subtle change creeps as months flow,
Bidding its faded frame with beauty glow.
Why, on itself with worn beak having prey'd,
Is raven old more youthful swift array'd?
O'er second birth-throes bears Lucina sway,
Whence an old man may have late natal day?
Pharisee, know'st not? Well, now faith thou'lt learn:
Wisely to know not, half faith's crown doth earn. R. Wi.
LXVI.
Arbor Christi jussu arescens. Marc. xi. 13.
Ille jubet: procul ite mei, mea gloria, rami:
Nulla vocet nostras amplius aura comas.
Ite, nec Ô pigeat; nam vos neque fulminis ira,
Nec trucis ala Noti verberat: ille jubet.
O vox, Ô Zephyro vel sic quoque dulcior omni;
Non possum Autumno nobiliore frui.
The tree dried up by the word of Christ.
He speaks: hence, leaves; my glory hence, away;
Thou Zephyr 'mid my leaves no longer play;
Begone: nor grieve: 'tis not the lightning's wrath,
Nor wing of the storm-wind that smites: HE saith.
O voice, than Zephyr sweeter far to me;
More noble autumn-fruit could never be. G.
LXVII.
Zacharias minus credens. Luc. i. 12.
Infantis fore te patrem, res mira videtur;
Infans interea factus es ipse pater.
Et dum promissi signum, nimis anxie, quaeris,
Jam nisi per signum quaerere nulla potes.
Zacharias incredulous.
To have a child thou deem'st so strange a thing,
That thou art made a child for wondering.
Whilst for a sign too eagerly thou dost call,
Except by sign thou can'st not ask at all. Cl.
LXVIII.
In aquam baptismi Dominici. Matt. iii. 13-16.
Felix Ô, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus;
Felix, dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.
Gutta quidem sacros quaecunque perambulat artus,
Dum manet hic, gemma est; dum cadit hinc, lacryma.
On the water of our Lord's baptisme.
Each blest drop on each blest limme
Is washt itselfe in washing Him:
'Tis a gemme while it stayes here;
While it falls hence 'tis a teare. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Happy the water washt His sacred side;
In washing Christ itself is purify'd.
Each drop that trickled down His body, there
Staying a gem, thence falling was a tear. B.
LXIX.
Mulieri incurvatae medetur Dominus, indignante Archisynagogo. Luc. xiii. 11.
In proprios replicata sinus quae repserat, et jam
Daemonis, infelix, nil nisi nodus erat,
Solvitur ad digitum Domini: sed strictior illo
Unicus est nodus; cor, Pharisaee, tuum.
The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, the Synagogue-ruler is displeased.
Creeping and doubled erewhile in her woe,
Lo, now she stands erect: Christ willed it so.
DÆmonic knots are loos'd beneath His hands;
But thy heart, Pharisee, still rigid stands. G.
LXX.
Neque ausus fuit quisquam ex illo die eum amplius interrogare. Matt. xxii. 46.
Christe, malas fraudes, Pharisaica retia, fallis:
Et miseros sacro discutis ore dolos.
Ergo tacent tandem, atque invita silentia servant:
Tam bene non aliter te potuere loqui.[56]
Neither durst any man from that day forth ask Him any more questions.
Nets, frauds of Pharisees, the Lord beguiles;
His sacred lips disperse the wretched wiles.
So they were silent—enforc'd so to be:
Such silence, Lord, their best address to Thee. G.
LXXI.
S. Joannes matri suae. Matt. xx. 20.
O mihi cur dextram, mater, cur, oro, sinistram
Poscis, ab officio mater iniqua tuo?
Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram:
Tam procul a sacro non libet esse sinu.
St. John and his mother.
Mother, why ask you right or left for me?
The benefit would be an injury.
Nor right nor left for me convenient are:
From His sweet bosome either is too far. B.
LXXII.
Si filius Dei es, dejice te. Matt. iv. 6.
Ni se dejiciat Christus de vertice Templi,
Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
At mox te humano de pectore dejicit: heus tu,
Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down.
Cast Thyself from the pinacle whereon
I set Thee, or I think Thee not God's Son.
No; but He'l cast thee from the hearts of men,
Satan. Wilt not believe He's God's Son then? B.
LXXIII.
Dominus flens ad Judaeos. Luc. xix. 41.
Discite, vos miseri, venientes discite flammas;
Nec facite Ô lacrymas sic periisse meas.
Nec periisse tamen poterunt: mihi credite, vestras
Vel reprimet flammas haec aqua, vel faciet.
The Lord weeping over the Jews.
Think on the coming flames I would prevent;
Let not My tears for you in vain be spent.
And yet they can't be spent in vain; for sure
This water flames will quench, or else procure. B.
LXXIV.
Nec velut hic Publicanus. Luc. xviii. 11.
Istum? vile caput! quantum mihi gratulor, inquis,
Istum quod novi tam mihi dissimilem!
Vilis at iste abiit sacris acceptior aris:
I nunc, et jactes hunc tibi dissimilem.
Nor even as this publican.
Him, 'vile wretch!' Ah, myself how much I pride
That I am utterly unlike to him!
The 'vile wretch' leaves God's altar justified:
Now go and boast thou art unlike to him. G.
LXXV.
In Saulum fulgore nimio excaecatum. Act. ix. 3.
Quae lucis tenebrae? quae nox est ista dici?
Nox nova, quam nimii luminis umbra facit.
An Saulus fuerit caecus, vix dicere possum;
Hoc scio, quod captus lumine Saulus erat.[57]
On Saul blinded with too much light.
What darken'd noon is here? what mid-day night?
It is the shadow cast by too much light.
Saul may be blind or not; all I can say,
Ta'en within Heaven's light earth's light fades away. R. Wi.
LXXVI.
Beati oculi qui vident. Luc. x. 23.
Cum Christus nostris ibat mitissimus oris,
Atque novum caecos jussit habere diem,
Felices, oculos qui tunc habuere, vocantur?
Felices, et qui non habuere, voco.
Blessed are the eyes which see.
When Christ with us on Earth did sympathize,
And to the poor blind men restor'd their eyes,
Happy they who had eyes. Not they alone;
I call them also happy who had none. B.
ANOTHER VERSION.
When Christ on earth moved on His pitying way,
And bade the blind look up and find new day,
Was eyesight then such bliss to every one?
Yet I will deem them happy who had none. G.
LXXVII.
Filius e feretro matri redditur. Luc. vii. 15.
Ergone tam subita potuit vice flebilis horror
In natalitia candidus ire toga?
Quos vidi, matris gemitus hos esse dolentis
Credideram; gemitus parturientis erant.
Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier.
With such quick change could tear-bedew'd Dismay
Give birthday smiles, and walk in white array?
Heard I bereavÈd mother's wailings wild?
No; the blest cries of one who bears a child! R. Wi.
LXXVIII.
In seculi sapientes. Matt. xi. 25.
Ergone delicias facit, et sibi plaudit ab alto
Stultitia, ut velit hac ambitione peti?
Difficilisne adeo facta est, et seria tandem?
Ergo et in hanc etiam quis sapuisse potest?
Tantum erat, ut possit tibi doctior esse ruina?
Tanti igitur cerebri res, periisse, fuit?
Nil opus ingenio; nihil hac opus arte furoris:
Simplicius poteris scilicet esse miser.
On the wise of this world.
With such complacent joys is Folly fraught,
That with this trouble she must needs be sought?
So difficult and grave is she turn'd now,
Can any one for her be wise enow?
Must Ruin to be deeper taught aspire?
To perish, does it so much brain require?
Genius and skill in madness who would see?
Forsooth, more simply you may wretched be! R. Wi.
LXXIX.
In Judaeos Christum praecipitare conantes. Luc. iv. 29.
Dicite, quae tanta est sceleris fiducia vestri,
Quod nequiit daemon, id voluisse scelus?
Quod nequiit daemon scelus, id voluisse patrare:
Hoc tentare ipsum daemona, credo, fuit.
The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice.
What daring leads you on, ungodly crew,
To that which ev'n the Devil durst not do?
Ye dare what he dares not? If truth be told,
Ye tempt the Devil's self to be more bold. G.
LXXX.
In draconem praecipitem. Rev. xii. 9.
I, frustra truculente; tuas procul aurea rident
Astra minas, coelo jam bene tuta suo.
Tune igitur coelum super ire atque astra parabas?
Ascensu tanto non opus ad barathrum.
The casting-down of the dragon.
Go, Dragon! the fair stars smile at thy threat,
Secure, serene, in native skies a-glow.
Thy throne o'er sky and stars thou fain would'st set;
Thou need'st not vault so high to plunge so low. G.
LXXXI.
Beatae Virgini credenti. Luc. ii. 19.
Miraris, quid enim faceres? sed et haec quoque credis:
Haec uteri credis dulcia monstra tui.
En fidei, Regina, tuae dignissima merces:
Fida Dei fueras filia; mater eris.
The blessed Virgin believing.
Thou wonderÈd'st! how else could'st thou so guarded?
Yet thou believ'dst the mighty coming birth;
Queen! thy faith's working is full well rewarded;
God's daughter, thou God's mother art on earth. G.
LXXXII.
Licetne Caesari censum dare? Marc. xii. 14.
Post tot Scribarum, Christe, in te proelia, tandem
Ipse venit Caesar; Caesar in arma venit.
Pugnant terribiles non Caesaris ense, sed ense
Caesare: quin Caesar vinceris ipse tamen.
Hoc quoque tu conscribe tuis, Auguste, triumphis.
Sic vinci dignus quis nisi Caesar erat?
Is it lawful to give tribute to CÆsar?
After so many battles with the Scribes, O Lord,
CÆsar himself comes; CÆsar with his sword.
They fight not arm'd with CÆsar's sword indeed;
But CÆsar as their sword with craft they plead.
Conquer'd thyself, O CÆsar, make it known—
Who save thee, worthy so to be o'erthrown. G.
LXXXIII.
In tibicines et turbam tumultuantem circa defunctam. Matt. ix. 23.
Vani, quid strepitis? nam quamvis dormiat illa,[58]
Non tamen e somno est sic revocanda suo.
Expectat solos Christi sopor iste susurros:
Dormit enim; sed non omnibus illa tamen.
The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead.
Vain mourning this; why make ye such loud noise?
She sleeps indeed, but so will not awake.
Her sleep waits for the whisper of His voice
Who a great promise to her father spake. G.
LXXXIV.
Piscatores vocati. Matt. iv. 19.
Ludite jam, pisces, secura per aequora: pisces
Nos quoque, sed varia sub ratione, sumus.
Non potuisse cÁpi, vobis spes una salutis:
Una salus nobis est, potuisse capi.
The fishermen called.
Play, fishes, in your waters, safely play:
We become fishes too, another way.
Not to be taken, to you safety brought:
But we are then most safe when we are caught. B.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Careless, aneath the waves, ye fishes, play:
We too are fishes, in a different way;
Ye die, we live, being caught; and that for aye. G.
ANOTHER.
Sport, fishes, now, within the secure sea:
Lo, fishes too, in different kind, are we.
In shunning nets your hope of safety lay;
Our safety is to be the netter's prey. A.
LXXXV.
Date Caesari. Marc. xii. 17.
Cuncta Deo debentur: habet tamen et sua Caesar;
Nec minus inde Deo est, si sua Caesar habet.
Non minus inde Deo est, solio si caetera dantur
Caesareo, Caesar cum datur ipse Deo.
Give to CÆsar ... and to God....
All we have is God's, and yet
CÆsar challenges a debt;
Nor hath God a thinner share,
Whatever CÆsar's payments are.
All is God's; and yet 'tis true
All we have is CÆsar's too.
All is CÆsar's; and what ods,
So long as CÆsar's selfe is God's? Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
All things belong to God, yet CÆsar has his all;
Not due the less to God that they to CÆsar fall.
Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to CÆsar's throne;
For CÆsar's throne itself belongs to God alone. G.
LXXXVI.
Dominus asino vehitur. Matt. xxi. 7.
Ille igitur vilem te, te dignatur asellum,
O non vectura non bene digne tua!
Heu, quibus haud pugnat Christi patientia monstris!
Hoc quod sic fertur, hoc quoque ferre fuit.
The Lord borne on the ass.
Does He, base ass, thus deign to honour thee,
Unworthy thus to bear th' incarnate God?
Alas, Thy patience strangely tried I see,
Thee carried thus who bear'st sin's awful load! B.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
A common ass does the Lord dignify?
O, how unworthy such a burden high!
With the Lord's patience, ah, what can compare?
So to be borne, this also was to bear. R. Wi.
LXXXVII.
Videbunt Filium hominis venientem in nube. Luc. xxi. 27.
Immo, veni: aËrios, Ô Christe, accingere currus,
Inque triumphali nube coruscus ades.
Nubem quaeris? erunt nostra, ah! suspiria nubes:
Aut sol in nubem se dabit ipse tuam.
They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud.
Come, yoke Thy chariots of the air, O Lord;
Triumphal honours let bright clouds afford.
Dost seek a cloud? Our sighs a cloud will be,
Or the sun melt into a cloud for Thee. G.
LXXXVIII.
Nisi digitum immisero, &c. Joan. xx. 25.
Impius ergo iterum clavos? iterum impius hastam?
Et totum digitus triste revolvet opus?
Tune igitur Christum, Thoma, quo vivere credas,
In Christum faceres, ah truculente! mori?
CHRIST TO THOMAS.
Except I shall put my finger, &c.
Thy impious finger, would it, then, re-borrow
The nails, the spear, each circumstance of sorrow?
That on a living Christ thou mayst rely,
Cruel, wouldst thou thy Christ re-crucify? G.
LXXXIX.
Ad Judaeos mactatores S. Stephani. Act. vi. 9-12.
Quid datis, ah miseri! saxis nolentibus iras?
Quid nimis in tragicum praecipitatis opus?
In mortem Stephani se dant invita: sed illi
Occiso faciunt sponte sua tumulum.
To the Jews stoning St. Stephen.
Wretches, do ye put rage into cold stones?
Why rush so eagerly to work so vile?
Your stones unwilling add to Stephen's moans,
But gladly heap a tomb for him the while. G.
XC.
Sancto Joanni dilecto discipulo.
Tu fruere, augustoque sinu caput abde, quod Ô tum
Nollet in aeterna se posuisse rosa.
Tu fruere; et sacro dum te sic pectore portat,
O sat erit tergo me potuisse vehi.
To St. John the beloved disciple.
Upon His breast thy happy head reposes,
Nor would that pillow change for Heaven's own roses:
While thus His bosom bears up happy thee,
To press His shoulders were enough for me. G.
XCI.
In lactentes martyres. Matt. ii. 16, 17.
Vulnera natorum qui vidit et ubera matrum,
Per pueros fluviis, ah! simul ire suis:
Sic pueros quisquis vidit, dubitavit an illos
Lilia coelorum diceret, anne rosas.
Upon the infant martyrs.
To see both blended in one flood,
The mothers' milk, the childrens' blood,
Makes me doubt if Heaven will gather
Roses hence, or lillies rather. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Who saw the infants' blood and milk of mother
Flowing, alas, in a commingl'd tide,
Doubtingly ask'd, and gaz'd from one to other,
Whether Heav'n's rose or lily they espy'd. G.
XCII.
Deus nobiscum. Matt. i. 23.
Nobiscum Deus est? vestrum hoc est, hei mihi! vestrum:
Vobiscum Deus est, Ô asini atque boves.
Nobiscum non est; nam nos domus aurea sumit:
Nobiscum Deus est, et jacet in stabulo?
Hoc igitur nostrum ut fiat, dulcissime Jesu,
Nos dandi stabulis, vel tibi danda domus.
God with us.
Is God with us? Woe's me,
God is with you, ye beasts, I see.
God is with you, ye beasts;
God comes not to our golden feasts.
That God may be with us,
We must provide a lowly house.
God comes to the humble manger,
While to the great house a stranger. G.
XCIII.
Christus circumcisus ad Patrem.
Has en primitias nostrae, Pater, accipe mortis;
Vitam ex quo sumpsi, vivere dedidici.
Ira, Pater, tua de pluvia gustaverit ista:
Olim ibit fluviis hoc latus omne suis.
Tunc sitiat licet et sitiat, bibet et bibet usque:
Tunc poterit toto fonte superba frui.
Nunc hastae interea possit praeludere culter:
Indolis in poenas spes erit ista meae.[59]
XCIV.
In Epiphaniam Domini. Matt. ii. 2.
Non solita contenta dies face lucis Eoae,
Ecce micat radiis caesariata novis.
Persa sagax, propera: discurre per ardua regum
Tecta, per auratas marmoreasque domus:
Quaere Ô, quae intepuit Reginae purpura partu;
Principe vagitu quae domus insonuit.
Audin' Persa sagax? Qui tanta negotia coelo
Fecit, Bethlemiis vagiit in stabulis.
The Epiphany of our Lord.
Scorning her wonted herald, lo, the Day
Now decks her forehead with a brighter ray.
Sage Persian, haste; ask where high roofs unfold
Their royal wealth of marble and of gold;
In what rich couch an Empress-mother lies;
What halls have heard a new-born Prince's cries.
Wouldst know, sage Persian? He for whom Heaven keeps
Such festival, in Bethlehem's manger weeps. Cl.
XCV.
Ecce quaerebamus te, &c. Luc. ii. 49.
Te quaero misera, et quaero: tu nunc quoque tractas
Res Patris; Pater est unica cura tibi.
Quippe quod ad poenas tantum et tot nomina mortis,
Ad luctum et lacrymas, hei mihi! mater ego.
Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.
I seek Thee mourning, and I seek again:
Thou still Thy Father's business dost attend;
And me, alas, sad mother of all pain,
Of grief and tears, Thou surely wilt befriend. G.
XCVI.
Aquae in vinum versae. Joan. ii. 1-11.
Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis?
Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?
Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen:
Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.[60]
Water turned into wine.
Whence that blush upon thy brow,
Fair Nymph of the waters, now?
Mark the glow all rosy-red
Of the stream astoniÈd.
All the guests in tumult rush'd:
The shy Nymph saw her God, and blush'd. G.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Whence to your waters comes the glow of wine?
What strange new rose their mazÈd streams hath flush'd?
Haste, guests, and own your Visitant divine;
For the chaste Nymph hath seen her God, and blush'd. Cl.
ANOTHER.
Whence comes this rose, this ruddy colour strange?
What blushes new the wondering water change?
Mark, mark, gay guests, a present Deity!
The conscious water blush'd its God to see. A.
XCVII.
Absenti Centurionis filio Dominus absens medetur. Matt. viii. 13.
Quam tacitis inopina salus illabitur alis!
Alis quas illi vox tua, Christe, dedit.
Quam longas vox ista manus habet! haec medicina
Absens et praesens haec medicina fuit.
The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant of the Centurion.
Safety unlook'd-for! silent 'light the wings
Wherewith Thy voice, O Christ, swift-healing brings:
Far-reaching hand Thy word has, and Thou healest
Absent and present, even as Thou willest. G.
XCVIII.
Quid timidi estis? Marc. iv. 40.
Tanquam illi insanus faceret sua fulmina ventus;
Tanquam illi scopulos norit habere fretum.
Vos vestri scopuli, vos estis ventus et unda:
Naufragium cum illo qui metuit, meruit.
Why are ye so fearful?
As if to Him the winds their thunder threw;
As if to Him hard rocks the water knew.
Ye are your rocks, ye are your wind and wave:
Shiprack with Him who fear, deserve to have. B.
XCIX.
Nunc dimittis. Luc. ii. 29.
Ite mei, quid enim ulterius, quid vultis, ocelli?
Leniter obductis ite superciliis.
Immo et adhuc et adhuc, iterumque iterumque videte;
Accipite haec totis lumina luminibus.
Jamque ite; et tutis Ô vos bene claudite vallis:
Servate haec totis lumina luminibus.
Primum est, quod potui te, Christe, videre: secundum,
Te viso, recta jam potuisse mori.[61]
Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.
Begone, mine eyes; what would ye see beside?
Go now in peace 'neath darkening brows to hide.
Once and again, and yet again; behold;
With one long gaze His beams in yours enfold.
Then go, and guard your treasure safe from foes,
And fast in yours those beams of His enclose.
To look on Thee, O Christ, this first have I;
Then, having look'd on Thee, straightway to die. Cl.
C.
In segetem sacram. Matt. xiii. 24.
Ecce suam implorat, demisso vertice, falcem:
Tu segeti falcem da, Pater alme, suam.
Tu falcem non das? messem tu, Christe, moraris?
Hoc ipsum falx est; haec mora messis erit.
Good seed in the field.
Coepit lacrymis rigare pedes ejus, et capillis extergebat. Luc. vii. 37.
Unda sacras sordes lambit placidissima: flavae
Lambit et hanc undam lucida flamma comae.
Illa per has sordes it purior unda; simulque
Ille per has lucet purior ignis aquas.
She began to wash His feet with teares, and wipe them with the haires of her head.
Her eyes' flood lickes His feets' faire staine;
Her hair's flame lickes up that againe.
This flame thus quencht hath brighter beames;
This flood thus stainÈd fairer streames. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
With placid force the gentle wave
That consecrated dust doth lave,
And a bright flame of golden hair
Doth lave in light those waters fair.
Purer the trickling waters shine
Through contact with that dust divine;
And purer through the waters' flow
That flame of lucent fire doth glow. Cl.
CII.
Quid vis tibi faciam? Luc. xviii. 41.
Quid volo, Christe, rogas? quippe ah volo, Christe, videre:
Quippe ad te, dulcis Christe, videre volo.
At video, fideique oculis te nunc quoque figo:
Est mihi, quae nunquam est non oculata, fides.
Sed quamvis videam, tamen ah volo, Christe, videre:
Sed quoniam video, Christe, videre volo.
What seekest that I do to thee?
Askest, O Christ, my wish? My Christ I wish to see:
To see Thee, O my sweet Christ, to see Thee.
But, lo, I see; for now on Thee I fix faith's eye,
And gazing so, dimness and darkness fly.
But though I see, yet, ah, my Christ I wish to see;
And since I see, O Christ, I would see Thee. G.
CIII.
Christus mulieri Canaaneae difficilior. Matt. xv. 21.
Ut pretium facias dono, donare recusas:
Usque rogat supplex, tutamen usque negas.
Hoc etiam donare fuit, donare negare.
Saepe dedit quisquis saepe negata dedit.
The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan.
That He a gift more precious might bestow,
While she implor'd, discouragements He used.
This was to give thus not to give; for, lo,
He giveth oft who gives what's oft refused.[62] G.
CIV.
Beatus venter et ubera, &c. Luc. ii. 27.
Et quid si biberet Jesus vel ab ubere vestro?
Quid facit ad vestram, quod bibit ille, sitim?
Ubera mox sua et hic, Ô quam non lactea! pandet;
E nato mater tum bibet ipsa suo.
Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked.
Suppose He had been tabled at thy teates,
Thy hunger feeles not what He eates:
He'l have His teat ere long—a bloody one;
The mother then must suck the Son. Cr.
CV.
In Christum vitem. Joan. xv. 1.
Ulmum vitis amat, quippe est et in arbore flamma,
Quam fovet in viridi pectore blandus amor:
Illam ex arboribus cunctis tu, vitis, amasti;
Illam, quaecunque est, quae crucis arbor erat.
Christ the true Vine (including the branches).
The vine clings lovingly unto the elm;
Love's flame draws thus a tree within its realm:
But most, O vine, thou lov'st, whate'er its name,
That tree from which the cross of Calvary came. G.
CVI.
Vos flebitis et lamentabimini. Joan. xvi. 20.
Ergo mihi salvete mei, mea gaudia, luctus:
Quam charum, Ô Deus, est hoc mihi flere meum!
Flerem, ni flerem: solus tu, dulcis Jesu,
Laetitiam donas tunc quoque quando negas.
Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament.
Welcome, my griefe, my joy; how deare's
To me my legacy of teares!
I'll weepe and weepe, and will therefore
Weepe 'cause I can weepe no more.
Thou, Thou, deare Lord, even Thou alone,
Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none. Cr.
CVII.
In gregem Christi Pastoris. Joan. x. 11.
O grex, Ô nimium tanto Pastore beatus;
O ubi sunt tanto pascua digna grege?
Ne non digna forent tanto grege pascua, Christus
Ipse suo est Pastor, pascuum et ipse gregi.
Christ the good Shepherd.
O flock, O too much in thy Sheepherd blest,
Where are fields worthy thee to feed and rest?
Lest worthy pastures nowhere should be found,
Christ is to thee the Sheepherd and the ground. B.
ANOTHER VERSION.
O flock, in your great Shepherd all too blest,
Where shall fit pasturage be found for you?
That His fair flock may ne'er want food or rest,
Christ is the Pastor and the pasture too. Cl.
CVIII.
In vulnera pendentis Domini. Matt. xxviii. 26-53.
Sive oculos, sive ora vocem tua vulnera; certe
Undique sunt ora, heu, undique sunt oculi.
Ecce ora, Ô nimium roseis florentia labris!
Ecce oculi, saevis ah madidi lacrymis!
Magdala, quae lacrymas solita es, quae basia sacro
Ferre pedi, sacro de pede sume vices.
Ora pedi sua sunt, tua quo tibi basia reddat:
Quo reddat lacrymas scilicet est oculus.[63]
On the wounds of the crucified Lord.
Thy wounds, O Lord, are mouths and eyes—
Let not the strange words breed surprise:
Where'er I look, wounds seem to speak;
Where'er I look, wounds in tears break;
Mouths with ruddy lips disparted,
Eyes as of the broken-hearted.
Thou, Mary, on His sacred feet
RainÈdst thy tears and kisses sweet.
Now retake thy kisses, tears;
Cling thee there, there hush thy fears.
See, mouths and eyes are here also;
Swift they'll pay back thy loving woe. G.
CIX.
Paralyticus convalescens. Marc. ii. 1-13.
Christum, quod misero facilis peccata remittit,
Scribae blasphemum dicere non dubitant.
Hoc scelus ut primum Paralyticus audiit: ira
Impatiens, lectum sustulit atque abiit.
The paralytic healed.
The Scribes audaciously blaspheme the Lord,
That He a poor man pardon'd with a word.
The Paralytic hears all that they say;
Indignant takes his bed, and walks away. G.
CX.
Tunc sustulerunt lapides. Joan. viii. 59.
Saxa? illi? quid tam foedi voluere furores?
Quid sibi de saxis hi voluere suis?
Indolem, et antiqui agnosco vestigia patris:
Panem de saxis hi voluere suis.
Then took they up stones.
'They took up stones:' What meant they by such rage?
What wanted they with them? Their meaning's plain:
'Tis their old father's way—O sad presage!
He too took up the stones for bread amain.[64] G.
CXI.
In resurrectionem Domini. Matt. xxviii. 6.
Nasceris, en, tecumque tuus, Rex auree, mundus,
Tecum[65] virgineo nascitur e tumulo.
Tecum in natales properat natura secundos,
Atque novam vitam te novus orbis habet.
Ex vita, Sol alme, tua vitam omnia sumunt:
Nil certe, nisi mors, cogitur inde mori.
At certe neque mors: nempe ut queat illa sepulchro,
Christe, tuo condi, mors volet ipsa mori.
On the Resurrection of the Lord.
Thou'rt born, and, lo, bright King, Thy world is born,
Is born with Thee from virgin tomb this morn.
Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,
And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.
Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath;
Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.
Nor is Death forced—since in Thy grave to lie,
Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die. R. Wi.
CXII.
Aliqui vero dubitabant. Matt. xxviii. 17.
Scilicet et tellus dubitat,[66] tremebunda: sed ipsum hoc,
Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.
Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud
Hoc ipse dicunt,[67] dicere quod nequeunt.
But some doubted.
Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,
The wavering earth forbids you waver too.
The very keepers, if their voice you seek,
Though speechless, even by their silence speak. R. Wi.
CXIII.
In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam suorum fidem. Joan. xx. 20.
His oculis, nec adhuc clausis coÏere fenestris,
Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.
His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,
Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.
The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strengthening of His disciples' faith.
Thy love these eyes did open;
They're watching for us still:
These eyes, of love the token,
Our faith with love do fill. G.
CXIV.
Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit. Luc. vii. 19.
Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,
Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,
Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?
Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.[68]
John sends to Jesus ... saying, Art Thou He that should come? or look we for another?
And dost thou ask, who in thy mother's womb
So eager wast to hail Messiah come?
Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?
Why, even the very dumb can answer thee. Cl.
CXV.
In Petrum auricidam. Joan. xviii. 10.
Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,
Tu tibi jam pugnas, Ô bone, non Domino.
Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,
Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.
On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare.
Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
Well for thyselfe, I meane, not for thy Lord.
To strike at eares is to take heed there bee
No witnesse, Peter, of thy perjury. Cr.
CXVI.
Manus arefacta sanatur. Marc. iii. 1-5.
Felix, ergo tuae spectas natalia dextrae,
Quae modo spectanti flebile funus erat!
Quae nec in externos modo dextera profuit usus,
Certe erit illa tuae jam manus et fidei.[69]
The withered hand healed.
O happy man, thy right-hand's birth beholding,
Erewhile a sad funereal sight enfolding!
The hand of no use, by the word Christ saith,
Restor'd, is now become the hand of faith. G. & B.
CXVII.
In Pontium male lautum. Matt. xxvii. 24.
Illa manus lavat unda tuas, vanissime judex:
Ah tamen illa scelus non lavat unda tuum!
Nulla scelus lavet unda tuum: vel si lavet ulla,
O volet ex oculis illa venire tuis.
To Pontius washing his hands.
Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt
That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:
The flood, if any can, that can suffice,
Must have its fountaine in thine eyes. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:
Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.
No water washt it out: if any will,
'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil. B.
CXVIII.
In piscem dotatum. Matt. xvii. 27.
Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque
Fert pretium: tanti est vel periisse tibi.
Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos
Non opus est: ipsum se tibi piscis emet.
The stater-giving fish.
A fish Thou wishest, Lord;
And without e'er a word,
Behold, it swims to Thee,
Fetching its own cost, free.
Thou needest not to go
In markets to and fro;
Nor need'st Thou price to bring—
The fish owns Thee its king. G.
CXIX.
Ego vici mundum. Joan. xvi. 33.
Tu contra mundum dux es meus, optime Jesu?
At tu, me miserum! dux meus ipse jaces.
Si tu, dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis?
Immo, ni jaceas tu, mihi nulla salus.
I have overcome the world.
Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!
Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.
And if my Captain fall, what hope have I?
No hope at all, unless my Captain die. B.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?
But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.
If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?
Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be. A.
CXX.
In ascensionem Dominicam. Act. i. 10.
Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia coeli:
It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.
Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus
Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.
At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phoebe,
Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.
Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:
Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?
On the ascension of our Lord.
Through open'd depths of His own heaven He soars,
And from His face in heaven a new heaven pours.
Scatter'd before Him down the welkin sinks
The sun, and its own sun's near glory drinks.
Moon unto sun for light no more beholden,
Now from more lustrous sun returns all golden.
These triumphs o'er Thyself Thou grantest, Lord;
Triumphs no other could suffice to 'accord. R. Wi.
CXXI.
In descensum Spiritus Sancti. Act. ii.
Jam coeli circum tonuit fragor: arma minasque
Turbida cum flammis mista ferebat hiems.
Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis,
Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.
Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro,
Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas;
Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse,
Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.
???a??? ??t?p?se ????? p??e?? ?a? ?pe????
??e t????? ??e?? s?? f???? se?da???.
??e? ???da???? ?a?? st??e??? t? ?????a
?f?ase t?? ????? t? p??p?? ???a????.
???? ?a???a?? ?te ?e?ta? ?s???? ?st??
F???a, ?a? ???t??? ?e??e f???? p???????,
???ae?. ?t? ??? ?e????? ??? ?e? ??????,
??? ?te?? d??t? t?de ?e?a???? ???.
The descent of the Holy Spirit.
Booms the thunder through the sky,
Flash the lightnings, threats the storm;
Cries the Jew with vengeful eye:
See SIN doom'd in fitting form!
But, lo, the lightning, paled to light
Mild and calm as ev'ning's star,
Binds their brows with nimbus bright,
Playing softly i' their hair.
To the Jews it is not lightning,
Yet the more the name's enlightening.[70] G.
CXXII.
Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet. Joan. iii. 16.
Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae:
Guttula quod faceret, cur facit oceanus?
Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita:
Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.
God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son....
Ah, 'tis too much to give Him for our sake:
A drop might serve, why then an ocean take?
Here may my life expatiate gloriously—
Amply, magnificently, Death may die. R. Wi.
CXXIII.
Juga boum emi. Luc. xiv. 19.
Ad coenam voco te, domini quod jussa volebant;
Tu mihi, nescio quos, dicis, inepte, boves.
Imo vale, nobis nec digne nec utilis hospes;
Coena tuos, credo, malit habere boves.
I have bought five yoke of oxen.
I call thee to His Supper,
for so The Master spake:
Thou sayest 'No,' pretending
thou must thy oxen take.
Farewell, O thou unworthy
and wholly useless guest;
Thy oxen for the Supper
in truth were better prest. G.
CXXIV.
D. Paulum, verbo sanantem claudum, pro Mercurio Lystres adorant. Act. xiv. 8-18.
Quis Tagus hic, quae Pactoli nova volvitur unda?
Non hominis vox est haec: Deus ille, Deus.
Salve, mortales nimium dignate penates:
Digna Deo soboles, digna tonante Deo.
O salve, quid enim, alme, tuos latuisse volebas?
Te dicit certe vel tua lingua Deum.
Laudem hanc haud miror: meruit facundus haberi,
Qui claudo promptos suasit habere pedes.
St. Paul, healing the lame man with a word, is worshipped by the Lystrians as Mercury.
What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?
'Tis not man's voice: a God, a God behold.
Hail, too much honour thou to men hast done,
Of Jove, of thundering Jove the worthy son.
Hail, Lord, for why wouldst hide thee from thine own?
A God e'en by thy tongue assuredly art known.
The praise of eloquence for him was meet
Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet. R. Wi.
CXXV.
In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem.
Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?
Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?
Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris,
Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.
Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat,
Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?
Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare:
Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.[71]
?? ta??e???? ??e? pt????' ?ste??essa? ??et??;
? t??? ?e??a f??e? t?? p?da ???????;
???st?, te? ?efa?? p?sa?? pte???ess?? ?pe??e??
?? s??? t?? das???? pa??e ??a p???????.
???? s?? ????t? ??????sat? ?e??' ????e?e?;
????t', ??? ???? ?sa ?? ??d?????.
????a ?? ?d' ????? ?a???? ?st' ???a ta?t???
???a d' ??????? ???a ?? ? ?a???.
To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ.
On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?
Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?
O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head,
Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.
There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee,
A melody unlike all earthly sound:
That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee;
This nest alone worthy the Bird is found. W.
CXXVI.
In fores divo Petro sponte apertas. Act. xii. 10.
Quid juvit clausisse fores, bone janitor, istas?
Et Petro claves jam liquet esse suas.
Dices, sponte patent: Petri ergo hoc scilicet ipsum
Est clavis, Petro clave quod haud opus est.
The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter.
Good jailor, how is this,
These doors thou lockest here?
That Peter has the keys
'Tis now to all men clear.
Thou say'st the doors self-open,
And well thou sayest indeed;
For by this very token
He no other key doth need. G.
CXXVII.
Murmurabant Pharisaei, dicentes, Recipit peccatores, et comedit cum illis. Luc. xv. 2.
Ah male, quisquis is est, pereat, qui scilicet istis
Convivam, saevus, non sinit esse suum!
Istis cum Christus conviva adjungitur, istis
O non conviva est Christus, at ipse cibus.[72]
The Pharisees murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them.
Ah, let him perish in his harsh protests
Who sinners checks to be the Saviour's guests!
Sinners do entertain Christ as a guest:
They spread the table, but He is the feast. G. & B.
CXXVIII.
In trabem Pharisaicam. Matt. vii. 3.
Cedant, quae, rerum si quid tenue atque minutum est,
Posse acie certa figere, vitra dabunt.
Artis opus mirae! Pharisaeo en optica trabs est,
Ipsum, vera loquor, qua videt ille nihil.
On the beam of the Pharisee.
Grant you can fix upon a needle's end
Each smallest object microscopes will lend.
Rare beam to look through has the Pharisee,
Whereby, in sooth, nothing itself sees he! R. Wi.
CXXIX.
Constituerunt ut si quis confiteretur eum esse Christum, synagoga moveretur. Joan. ix. 22.
Infelix, Christum reus es quicunque colendi;
O reus infelix, quam tua culpa gravis!
Tu summis igitur, summis damnabere coelis:
O reus infelix, quam tua poena gravis!
They determined that if any man should confess Him to be Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue.
Alas, unhappy, own the Christ thou wilt;
Unhappy culprit, fearful is thy guilt.
The gates of heaven for aye should keep thee close:
Unhappy culprit, fearful are thy woes. A.
CXXX.
De voto filiorum Zebedaei. Matt. xx. 20.
Sit tibi, Joannes, tibi sit, Jacobe, quod optas;
Sit tibi dextra manus; sit tibi laeva manus.
Spero alia in coelo est, et non incommoda, sedes;
Si neque laeva manus, si neque dextra manus.
Coeli hanc aut illam nolo mihi quaerere partem;
O coelum, coelum da, Pater alme, mihi.
Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee.
O brothers twain, may it be yours to fill
At right and left your places as ye will!
A seat remains, I trust—a fair one too—
Besides those high ones that were sought for you.
I pray not that to me some part be given,
But heaven itself, kind Father, grant me heaven. Cl.
ANOTHER VERSION.
John and James, take your place at God's command:
One at the right, th' other at the left hand.
I ask not to be placÈd so, or so:
To heaven, to heaven, good Father, let me go. B.
CXXXI.
Ad hospites coenae miraculosae quinque panum. Joan. vi. 9-13.
Vescere pane tuo, sed et, hospes, vescere Christo;
Et panis pani scilicet ille tuo.
Tunc pane hoc Christi recte satur, hospes, abibis,
Panem ipsum Christum si magis esurias.[73]
To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves.
Feed on thy bread, on Christ too feed, O guest;
With Bread on bread forsooth thou shalt be blest.
Then shalt thou go, with Christ's bread satisfied,
If hungering for the living Bread beside. R. Wi.
CXXXII.
De Christi contra mundum pugna. Joan. xvi. 33.
Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contra
Ferre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?
I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:
Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.
Christ overcoming the world.
O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonder
Thou dar'st lift unarm'd hands against my thunder.
Go, tyrant; put thy chains upon these hands:
'Tis done; and now full-arm'd the prisoner stands. G.
CXXXIII.
Graeci disputatores divo Paulo mortem machinantur. Act. ix. 29.
Euge, argumentum! sic disputat: euge, sophista!
Sic pugnum Logices stringere, sic decuit.
Hoc argumentum in causam quid, Graecule, dicit?
Dicit, te in causam dicere posse nihil.[74]
The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul.
O noble argument, Sophister rare!
Thus Logic's fist to double be your care.
This argument, poor Greek, what does it weigh?
It says that you have nought at all to say. R. Wi.
CXXXIV.
Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus. Luc. xxii. 26.
He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger.
The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?
Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.
That thou mai'st not go less, to every one
Submit: this, this is Christ's ambition. B.
CXXXV.
In lacrymantem Dominum. Luc. xix. 41.
Vobis, Judaei, vobis haec volvitur unda;
Quae vobis, quoniam spernitis, ignis erit.
Eia faces, Romane, faces! seges illa furoris,
Non nisi ab his undis, ignea messis erit.
He beheld the city, and wept over it.
For you, O Jews, is roll'd this tearful tide,
Which as a flame shall glow, since ye deride.
Torches, Rome's torches—those wild-waving ears
A fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears. R. Wi.
CXXXVI.
Christus in Aegypto. Matt. ii. 19-21.
Hunc tu, Nile, tuis majori flumine monstra;
Hunc, nimis ignotum, dic caput esse tibi.
Jam tibi, Nile, tumes; jam te quoque multus inunda:
Ipse tuae jam sis laetitiae fluvius.
Christ in Egypt.
With prouder stream, Nile, show Him to thine own;
Call Him thy fountain-head, too little known:
Now swelling for thyself, thyself o'erflow;
And with its own joy let thy current glow. R. Wi.
CXXXVII.
In caecos Christum confitentes, Pharisaeos abnegantes. Matt. ix. 27-31.
Ne mihi tu, Pharisaee ferox, tua lumina jactes:
En caecus! Christum caecus at ille videt.
Tu, Pharisaee, nequis in Christo cernere Christum:
Ille videt caecus; caecus es ipse videns.[75]
The blind confessing Christ, the Pharisees denying.
Cast not thine eyes on me, proud Pharisee,
Lo, this blind man, though blind, yet Christ can see.
Thou, Pharisee, canst not in Christ Christ find;
The blind man sees Him, and the seer's blind. G. & B.
CXXXVIII.
Si quis pone me veniet, tollat crucem et sequatur me. Matt. xvi. 24.
Ergo sequor, sequor, en, quippe et mihi crux mea, Christe, est:
Parva quidem; sed quam non satis, ecce, rego.
Non rego? non parvam hanc? ideo neque parva putanda est.
Crux magna est, parvam non bene ferre crucem.
If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.
Therefore I follow, lo, I follow on;
My cross is with me, yet not rightly worn.
It little is compar'd with Thine, I own;
Yet little is not being wrongly borne. G.
CXXXIX.
Relictis omnibus sequutus est eum. Luc. v. 28.
Quas Matthaeus opes, ad Christi jussa, reliquit;
Tum primum vere coepit habere suas.[76]
Iste malarum est usus opum bonus, unicus iste;
Esse malas homini, quas bene perdat, opes.
And he left all ... and followed Him.
To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did take
The right way, when he left all for Christ's sake.
This is the one good use of ill-got wealth;
For ill-got 'tis which, leaving, bringeth health. B. & G.
CXL.
Aedificatis sepulchra Prophetarum. Matt. xxiii. 29.
Sanctorum in tumulis quid vult labor ille colendis?
Sanctorum mortem non sinit ille mori.
Vane, Prophetarum quot ponis saxa sepulchris,
Tot testes lapidum, queis periere, facis.
Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets.
Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeath
The life thou took'st from him unto his death.
Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lye
Keepe but the score[77] of them that made him dye. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
What means this labour on the tombs of saints,
Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?
Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaints
Doth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd. G.
CXLI.
In manum aridam qua Christo mota est miseratio. Marc. iii. 3-5.
Prende, miser, Christum; et cum Christo prende salutem:
At manca est, dices, dextera: prende tamen.
Ipsum hoc, in Christum, manus est: hoc prendere Christum est,
Qua Christum prendas, non habuisse manum.
The man with the withered hand, who excited Christ's compassion.
Take hold of Christ, O wretched one,
And with Christ take salvation.
But thy right hand, thou say'st, is dead;
Yet take thee hold: His word is said.
Take hold of Christ e'en without hand;
Then safe in Christ, and well, thou'lt stand:
Take hold of Christ in simple faith;
This will be hand to thee, He saith. G.
CXLII.
Ad D. Lucam medicum. Coloss. iv. 14.
Nulla mihi, Luca, de te medicamina posco,
Ipse licet medicus sis, licet aeger ego:
Quippe ego in exemplum fidei dum te mihi pono,
Tu, medice, ipse mihi es tu medicina mea.
??d?? ???, ?????, pa?? s?? ?? f??a??? a?t?,
??? s? d' ?at??? ???, ??? ?? ??? ??se???.
???' ?? ?s? pa??de??a p??e?? ?? p?st???, a?t??,
??t?? ?at??? ??? ?' ?ss? ??est????.
Luke the beloved physician.
No medicine of thee, O Luke, I seek,
Though thou art a physician, and I sick:
Th' example of thy faith before my eyen,
To me, physician, is the medicine. B.
ANOTHER VERSION.
To St. Luke as a physician.
No medicine will I crave, Saint Luke, of thee,
Though I be sick, though thou physician be:
Pattern of faith, I plant thee in my soul,
And thou thyself the medicine makest me whole. A.
CXLIII.
Hydropicus sanatus, Christum jam sitiens. Luc. xiv. 4.
Pellitur inde sitis, sed et hinc sitis altera surgit;
Hinc sitit ille magis, quo sitit inde minus.
Felix Ô, et mortem poterit qui temnere morbus;
Cui vitae ex ipso fonte sititur aqua.
The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ.
Thy dropsy's quench'd, but other thirst now rises,
Which craves the more, the less the former thirsts.
O happy malady, which death despises:
Thirst for the stream which from life's fountain bursts. G.
CXLIV.
In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum.
Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus
Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:
Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,
Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.
O ver, Ô longae semper seges aurea lucis;
Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;
O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;
O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;
Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;
Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos—quid ago?
To the assembly of all the Saints.
Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,
Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:
Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,
Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.
O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;
Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;
The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,
The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;
The regions of unfading peace ye see,
And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me![78] W.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt
Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.
Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,
And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.
O ever-ripening harvest of long light;
O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;
O hands with laughing palms, O crownÈd brows;
O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!
The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see—
The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea—woe is me! A.
CXLV.
Christus absenti medetur. Matt. viii. 13.
Vox jam missa suas potuit jam tangere metas?
O superi, non hoc ire sed isse fuit.
Mirac'lum fuit ipsa salus, bene credere possis,
Ipsum, mirac'lum est, quando salutis iter.
Christ heals in absence.
Came, then, His voice with power, Himself unseen?
Heavens! this, though not to go, was to have been.
The cure miraculous we can credit well,
When the mere going was a miracle. Cl.
CXLVI.
Caecus natus. Joan. ix. 1, 2.
Felix, qui potuit tantae post nubila noctis,
O dignum tanta nocte, videre diem:
Felix ille oculus, felix utrinque putandus,
Quod videt, et primum quod videt ille Deum.
The man born blind.
Happy the man who was endu'd with sight,
And saw a day well worth so long a night:
Happy the eye, twice happy is the eye,
That sees, and at first look, a Deity. B.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Thrice-happy eye, that after such dark night—
Day worthy night so dark—couldst see the light:
O happy eye, eye thrice and four times blest,
At once to ope, and upon God to rest. A.
CXLVII.
Et ridebant illum. Matt. ix. 24.
Luctibus in tantis, Christum ridere vacabat?
Vanior iste fuit risus, an iste dolor?
Luctibus in tantis hic vester risus inepti,
Credite mi, meruit maximus esse dolor.
And they laughed at Him.
Laughter at Christ the Saviour—
Laughter 'mid falling tears!
O, which show'd greater folly,
Vain laughter or vain fears?
Such laughter 'mid such sorrow,
O fools, ye may believe:
Such laughter in such Presence
Gave greatest cause to grieve. G.
CXLVIII.
In sapientiam seculi. Matt. xi. 25.
Noli altum sapere, hoc veteres voluere magistri,
Ne retrahat lassos alta ruina gradus.
Immo mihi dico, Noli sapuisse profundum:
Non ego ad infernum me sapuisse velim.
The wisdom of the world.
'Aim not at things too high,' 'twas said of old,
'Lest ruin thence o'ertake thee, over-bold.'
For me to dive too deep I think not well:
I would not have my knowledge deep as hell. Cl.
CXLIX.
In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus.
Illa domus stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est:
Illa domus, qua tu nasceris, est stabulum?
Illa domus toto domus est pulcherrima mundo;
Vix coelo dici vult minor illa tuo.[79]
Cernis ut illa suo passim domus ardeat auro?
Cernis ut effusis rideat illa rosis?
Sive aurum non est, nec quae rosa rideat illic;
Ex oculis facile est esse probare tuis.
????? ?d' ?st' a???; ?? ?. te?? ?????, ??s??,
?? ?' ? t? t??t? a????? ?? p??eta?.
????? ?? p??t?? ??a d? ?????st?? ??e?????
???a??? ??d? te?? ????te??? p??eta?.
???de ?e??? ??? d?' ?p????et? ???s?,
???de ?e??? ????? d?a ??d??s? ?e??.
?? ??d?? ???? ?e??, ?? ??d? te ???s?? ??e??e??
?? s?? d' ?f?a??? ?st?? ??e???e?a?.
On the stable where our Lord was born.
That house a stable? nay, bright Infant, nay:
Where Thou art born—a stable do we say?
Of mansions in this world fairest of all,
That house but little less than heaven we call.
Seest thou that house with golden splendour flush?
Seest thou that house with scatter'd roses blush?
There is no gold, no rose there laughing lies:
It is the light that falls from His fair eyes. A.
CL.
S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus. Act. vii. 57-60.
Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustum
Haec mihi sint mortis conscia saxa meae.
Sic nec opus fuerit, notet ut quis carmine bustum,
Pro Domino, dicens, occidit ille suo.
Hic mihi sit tumulus, quem mors dedit ipsa; meique
Ipse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.
St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument.
I pray you, raise, my friends, no tomb for me,
But let these conscious stones my record be;
Nor will there then be need of verse to tell
That here for his dear Lord a martyr fell.
That which brought death, a tomb shall also bring,
And be the witness of my witnessing. Cl.
CLI.
In D. Joannem, quem Domitianus ferventi oleo illaesum indidit.
Illum qui, toto currens vaga flammula mundo,
Non quidem Joannes, ipse sed audit amor—
Illum ignem extingui, bone Domitiane, laboras?
Hoc non est oleum, Domitiane, dare.[80]
On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron of boiling oil, he unhurt.
That fire—which o'er the world a wandering flame,
Bears not the name of John, but Love's own name—
To quench, my good Domitian, dost thou toil?
Fire scarce is quench'd, methinks, by adding oil. Cl.
CLII.
In tenellos martyres.
Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitae
Hoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.
At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortis
Hoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.
The infant-martyrs.
Fallen, alas, in life's most tender dawn,
With only so much life as die they may.
But they 'gainst whom Death's arrows thus are drawn,
Only taste death that they may live for aye. G.
CLIII.
Attulerunt ei omnes male affectos daemoniacos, lunaticos: et sanavit eos. Matt. iv. 24.
Collige te tibi, torve Draco, furiasque facesque,
Quasque vocant pestes nox Erebusque suas:
Fac colubros jam tota suos tua vibret Erinnys;
Collige, collige te fortiter, ut pereas.
They brought unto Him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and He healed them.
Gather thy powers, grim Dragon, furies, flames,
All plagues which Erebus or midnight claims,
Bid each Erinnys high her serpents flourish;
Bring all, bring all, that thou mayst wholly perish.[81] R. Wi.
CLIV.
Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius. Luc. ii. 35.
Quando habeat gladium tua, Christe, tragoedia nullum,
Quis fuerit gladius, Virgo beata, tuus?
Namque nec ulla alias tibi sunt data vulnera, Virgo,
Quam quae a vulneribus sunt data, Christe, tuis.
Forsan quando senex jam caligantior esset,
Quod Simeon gladium credidit, hasta fuit.
Immo neque hasta fuit, neque clavus, sed neque spina:
Hei mihi, spina tamen, clavus et hasta fuit.
Nam queiscunque malis tua, Christe, tragoedia crevit,
Omnia sunt gladius, Virgo beata, tuus.
A sword shall pierce through thy own soul.
Since in the tragedy
Wrought upon Calvary,
No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,
Whence, then, shall come the blow
To Mary, virgin-mother?
Not any wounds are given,
Save as her Son is riven:
No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
Whence, then, shall come the blow
To Mary, virgin-mother?
Perchance the dim-ey'd seer
By sword intended spear:
No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
Whence, then, shall come the blow
To Mary, virgin-mother?
Not spear or nail or thorn,
Yet by all these I'm torn:
No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
O whence, then, comes the blow
To Mary, virgin-mother?
In the dread tragedy
Wrought upon Calvary,
Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,
Smote Thee, pierc'd as a sword
Mary, the virgin-mother. G.
CLV.
In sanguinem circumcisionis dominicae. Ad convivas, quos haec dies apud nos solennes habet.
Heus, conviva! bibin'? Maria haec, Mariaeque puellus,
Mittunt de prelo musta bibenda suo.
Una quidem est, toti quae par tamen unica mundo,
Unica gutta, suo quae tremit orbiculo.
O bibite hinc; quale aut quantum vos cunque bibistis,
Credite mi, nil tam suave bibistis adhuc.
O bibite et bibite, et restat tamen usque bibendum:
Restat, quod poterit nulla domare sitis.
Scilicet hic, mensura sitis, mensura bibendi est:
Haec quantum cupias vina bibisse, bibis.
On the blood of the Lord's circumcision.
Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divine
Send from their press, for drinking, this new wine.
One drop, yet this round world in worth resembling,
A single drop in tiny circlet trembling.
Drink hence; whate'er ye've drunk, how much soever,
Trust me, such pleasant drink ye've met with never.
Drink, drink again; to drink is left for you—
Is left what mortal thirst can ne'er subdue.
Thirst's limit here will drinking's bound define:
You drink all that you would drink of this wine. R. Wi.
CLVI.
Puer Jesus inter doctores. Luc. ii. 46.
Fallitur, ad mentum qui pendit quemque profundum,
Ceu possint laeves nil sapuisse genae.
Scilicet e barba male mensuratur Apollo;
Et bene cum capitis stat nive, mentis hyems.
Discat, et a tenero disci quoque posse magistro,
Canitiem capitis nec putet esse caput.
The Child Jesus among the doctors.
To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain,
As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain.
Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit;
With mental winter snowy head may fit.
Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall,
Nor think a hoary head the head of all. R. Wi.
CLVII.
Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa. Joan. ii. 1-11.
Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis:
In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas.
Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens,
Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas.
To our Lord, upon the water made wine.
Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life;
Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne,
Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife,
And so turnes wine to water backe againe. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
Blessing's in Thy every sign,
But the Tempter each pollutes:
Thou the water makest wine,
He the wine to woe transmutes. G.
CLVIII.
Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo. Luc. ii. 22-33.
Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco;
Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat.
Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum,
Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat.
Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae
Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu.
Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore,
Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis.
Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso
Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.
The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple.
Let the lamb go, by hornÈd sire to play;
The turtle, with its mate, flee far away:
No need is here of lamb to mediate,
Or tender bird to bear another's fate.
At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd,
Receiv'd by One who much allowance made.
This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake,
'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.'
A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear
Being fit for God, since God Himself is here. R. Wi.
CLIX.
Leprosus Dominum implorans. Matt. viii. 2.
Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo,
Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles.
Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus;
Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.[82]
The leper beseeching.
I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing,
And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able.
Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling,
Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable. G.
CLX.
Christus in tempestate. Matt. viii. 23-27.
Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu,
Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est.
Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore,
Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos.
Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?
As if the storme meant Him,
Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,
His needs a cloud.
Was ever froward wind
That could be so unkind,
Or wave so proud?
The wind had need be angry, and the water black,
That to the mighty Neptune's Self dare threaten wrack.
There is no storm but this
Of your own cowardise
That braves you out;
You are the storme that mocks
Yourselves; you are the rocks
Of your owne doubt:
Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,
And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare. Cr.
ANOTHER VERSION.
That the Sea with such violence falls on,
'Tis not his malice, but ambition:
This the ambition, this the loud request,
At Thy command, O Christ, to take his rest. B.
CLXI.
Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus Romani. Act. xvi. 21.
Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solis
Romanis igitur non licet esse piis?
Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armis
Altus anhelanti detonuisset equo;
Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbem
Sueta tibi in signis torva venire tuis:
Quam miser ut staret de te tibi, Roma, triumphus,
Ut tanta fieres ambitione nihil.
Non tibi, sed sceleri vincis: proh laurea tristis,
Laurea, Cerbereis aptior umbra comis.
Tam turpi vix ipse pater diademate Pluto,
Vix sedet ipse suo tam niger in solio.
De tot Caesareis redit hoc tibi, Roma, triumphis:
Caesaree, aut, quod idem est, egregie misera es.
They teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to observe, being Romans.
Rome, have thy CÆsar's arms wrought this for thee,
That Romans only may not Christians be?
Better for thee no CÆsar had waged war,
High-thundering on his fiery steed afar;
Nor eagle's lordly form o'er all the world
Had aye on thy stern ensigns been unfurl'd.
How poor a triumph, Rome, o'er thyself wrought,
By dint of such ambition to be—nought!
Conquering for sin, not Rome; sad laurel-wreath,
More fit to shadow Cerberus' locks beneath.
Old Pluto scarce wears diadem so base,
Sits scarce so swart enthron'd in his own place.
CÆsarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee—
CÆsarean, that is, highest misery. R. Wi.
CLXII.
Hic lapis fiat panis. Matt. iv. 3.
Et fuit ille lapis, quidni sit dicere? panis,
Christe, fuit: panis sed tuus ille fuit.
Quippe Patris cum sic tulerit suprema voluntas,
Est panis, panem non habuisse, tuus.
??t?? ??? t?? d?t', e?pe?? ???? ?st??, ??e????,
???st?, t?? ??t?? ??? ?a? ?????, ???? te??.
?? ??t?? t?? pat??? ?? e????? t? ????a,
??t?? ?t' ??? ?? t??, ???st?, t?? ??t?? ???.
Command that this stone become a loaf.
And so it was; bread was that stone;
Such bread, Christ, as was all Thine own.
Since God so will'd that it should be,
To have no bread was bread to Thee. G.
CLXIII.
Mulier Canaanitis. Matt. xv. 22.
Quicquid Amazoniis dedit olim fama puellis,
Credite: Amazoniam cernimus, ecce, fidem.
Foemina, tam fortis fidei? jam credo fidem esse
Plus quam grammatice foeminei generis.
The woman of Canaan.
Whate'er Fame tells of Amazons of old,
Believe: here Amazonian faith behold.
Of such strong faith a woman? Faith I see
More than in grammar feminine to be. R. Wi.
CLXIV.
Deus, post expulsum daemonem mutum, maledicis Judaeis os obturat. Luc. xi. 14.
Una pene opera duplicem tibi daemona frangis:
Iste quidem daemon mutus; at ille loquax.
Scilicet in laudes, quae non tibi laurea surgit?
Non magis hic loquitur, quam tacet ille tuas.
Upon the dumbe devill cast out, and the slanderous Jewes put to silence.
Two devills at one blow Thou hast laid flat;
A speaking devill this, a dumbe one that.
Was't Thy full victorie's fairer increase,
That th' one spake, or that th' other held his peace? Cr.
CLXV.
Dicebant, Vere hic est Propheta. Joan. vi. 14.
They said, This is of a truth that Prophet.
When Christ had given the multitude so much,
So many miracles to see, taste, touch;
Now Prophet, King, the holiest name Heaven wishes,
Was Christ: I'd rather call it 'Loaves and fishes.'
Whate'er Christ was, to their stay'd appetite
'Twas all more truly 'Loaves and fishes' dight. R. Wi.
CLXVI.
Christus ambulabat in porticu Salomonis, et hyems erat. Joan. x. 22.
Bruma fuit? non, non; ah, non fuit ore sub isto:
Si fuit, haud anni, nec sua bruma fuit.
Bruma tibi vernis velit ire decentior horis,
Per sibi non natas expatiata rosas.
At tibi ne possit se tam bene bruma negare,
Sola haec, quam vibrat gens tua, grando[83] vetat.
It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch.
Was't winter? No, O no; beneath that Face:
At least no natural winter there found place.
Winter for Thee would breathe Spring's beauteous hours,
With roses crowd its unaccustom'd bowers.
But lest so sweetly Winter should retire,
Lo, this hail hinders, hurl'd by Jewish ire. R. Wi.
CLXVII.
Dederunt nummos militibus. Matt. xxviii. 12.
Ne miles velit ista loqui, tu munera donas?
Donas, quod possit, cum tacet ipse, loqui.
Quae facis a quoquam, pretio suadente, taceri;
Clarius, et dici turpius ista facis.
They gave large money to the soldiers.
The soldiers' silence is't with money bought?
Thy gift will tell a tale, though they say nought.
Whatever with a bribe thou fain wouldst hide,
More shamefully thou spreadest far and wide. R. Wi.
CLXVIII.
Beatae Virgini: de salutatione angelica. Luc. i. 26-28.
?a??e suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;
?a??e tuum penna candidiore venit.
Sed taceat, qui ?a??e tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;
?a??e meum penna candidiore venit.
Quis dicat mihi ?a??e meum mage candidus autor,
Quam tibi quae dicat candidus ille tuum?
Virgo, rogas, quid candidius quam candidus ille
Esse potest? Virgo, quae rogat, esse potest.
?a??e tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;
Donas candidior tu mihi ?a??e meum.
?a??e meum de ?a??e tuo quid differat, audi:
Ille tuum dicit, tu paris, ecce, meum.
To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation.
Its 'hail' CÆsarean eagle need not bring;
Thy 'hail' comes wafted on a whiter wing.
But let the 'all-hail' angel e'en be still;
My 'hail' comes flitting on a whiter quill.
To say my 'hail' what whiter being can be
Than that white being who utters thine to thee?
Virgin, dost ask what whiter than that white
Might be? The Virgin who is asking, might.
That white one, Virgin, may give 'hail' to thee;
But thou, more white, dost give my 'hail' to me.
My 'hail' o'er thy 'hail,' wouldst thou know its worth;
He utters thine, but mine thou bringest forth. R. Wi.
CLXIX.
Pontio lavanti. Matt. xxvii. 24.
Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,
Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?
Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis
Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.
Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,
Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.
Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:
Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.
To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands.
Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape
That thou need'st heape
A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch
Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,
She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;
Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine
As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.
See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares
Nothing but teares:
Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.
Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;
Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,
And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.
Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree
What water shal wash this when this hath washÈd thee. Cr.
CLXX.
In die passionis dominicae.
Tamne ego sim tetricus? valeant jejunia: vinum
Est mihi dulce meo, nec pudet esse, cado.
Est mihi quod castis, neque prelum passa, racemis
Palmite virgineo protulit uva parens.
Hoc mihi, ter denis sat enim maturuit annis,
Tandem, ecce, e dolio praebibit hasta suo.
Jamque it; et Ô quanto calet actus aromate torrens,
Acer ut hinc aura divite currit odor!
Quae rosa per cyathos volitat tam vina Falernos?
Massica quae tanto sidere vina tremunt?
O ego nescibam; atque ecce est vinum illud amoris,
Unde ego sim tantis, unde ego par cyathis.
Vincor: et Ô istis totus prope misceor auris:
Non ego sum tantis, non ego par cyathis.
Sed quid ego invicti metuo bona robora vini?
Ecce est, quae validum diluit[84] unda merum.
On the day of the Lord's Passion.
Should I be dull? Fastings farewell! Sweet wine
I have—nor am asham'd—in cask of mine,
Which the full grape, unprest, from virgin shoot
Produced for me in purest cluster'd fruit.
This wine, now mellow'd by the thirtieth year,
Lo, from the 'wood' will pour at touch of spear.
It pours, and O how sweet the torrent glows,
How sharp an odour on the rich air flows!
What bouquet thus breathes from Falernian jars?
What Massic wines tremble beneath such stars?
O, I knew not; and, lo, this is Love's wine,
Whence I such draughts, e'en I, need not decline.
Vanquish'd, I wholly faint these airs along;
I am no match, not I, for draughts so strong.
But wherefore fear I their blest strength divine?
Behold the water mingled with the wine! R. Wi.
CLXXI.
In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena ferens aromata.
Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phoenicis adora;
Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.
Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;
Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.
Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:
Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.
Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:
Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.
His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,
Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.
Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,
Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.
Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari
Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.
On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing spices cometh to the sepulchre. Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.
Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phoenix' tomb;
Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.
With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen—
Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;
But these—no herbs nor spices equal them—
These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.
One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,
Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.
With these—her Lord's head in amomum laid—
The humble feet the head's despair she made.
Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,
She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.
Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too
Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew. A.
CLXXII.
In cicatrices Domini adhuc superstites. Luc. xxiv. 31.
Arma vides; arcus, pharetramque levesque sagittas,
Et quocunque fuit nomine miles Amor.
His fuit usus Amor: sed et haec fuit ipse; suumque
Et jaculum, et jaculis ipse pharetra suis.
Nunc splendent tantum, et deterso pulvere belli
E memori pendent nomina magna tholo.
Tempus erit tamen, haec irae quando arma pharetramque,
Et sobolem pharetrae spicula tradet Amor.
Heu, qua tunc anima, quo stabit conscia vultu,
Quum scelus agnoscet dextera quaeque suum?
Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles,
Qua tibi cunque tuus luserit arte furor.
Seu digito suadente tuo mala laurus inibat
Temporibus; sacrum seu bibit hasta latus:
Sive tuo clavi saevum rubuere sub ictu;
Seu puduit jussis ire flagella tuis.
Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles:
Quod dederis vulnus, cernere, vulnus erit.
Plaga sui vindex clavosque rependet et hastam:
Quoque rependet, erit clavus et hasta sibi.
Quis tam terribiles, tam justas moverit iras?
Vulnera pugnabunt, Christe, vel ipsa tibi.
On the scars of the Lord still remaining.
Arms see—bows, quiver, arrows flying far,
And every style in which Love went to war.
These arms Love used—nay, Himself was: His own
Dart and darts' quiver was Himself alone.
Now they but shine, and, dusty battle ended,
In treasur'd glory are on high suspended.
Time comes when unto Wrath these arms, both quiver
And quiver's offspring, darts, Love will deliver.
Ah, with what thoughts, what countenance wilt thou stand
When its own guilt comes home to each right hand?
Wretch, thou wilt see the wounds which thou hast made,
And with what fatal skill thy fury play'd:
Whether with bloody wreath thy fingers plied
His temples, or thy spear drank His dear side;
Or 'neath thy blow nails turned a cruel red,
Or the scourge blush'd as at thy call it sped.
Wretch, there the wounds thou gavest thou shalt see:
To see the wound thou gav'st a wound shall be.
Stroke self-avenging follows nails and spear:
Its nail and spear of recompense are here.
Such awful righteous wrath who would excite?
Thy very wounds, O Christ, for Thee will fight. R. Wi.
CLXXIII.
Pacem meam do vobis. Joan. xiv. 27.
Bella vocant: arma, Ô socii, nostra arma paremus
Atque enses: nostros scilicet, ah, jugulos.
Cur ego bella paro, cum Christus det mihi pacem?
Quod Christus pacem dat mihi, bella paro.
Ille dedit, nam quis potuit dare certior autor?
Ille dedit pacem: sed dedit ille suam.
My peace I give unto you.
War calls: O friends, our arms let us prepare,
And swords; forsooth, our throats let us lay bare.
Why war prepare, if Christ His peace afford?
Because Christ gives me peace, I take the sword.
He gave—what surer giver can be shown?
He gave the peace, but then He gave His own. R. Wi.
CLXXIV.
In D. Paulum illuminatum simul et excaecatum. Act. ix. 8, 9.
Quae, Christe, ambigua haec bifidi tibi gloria teli est,
Quod simul huic oculos abstulit atque dedit?
Sancta dies animi, hac oculorum in nocte, latebat;
Te ut possit Paulus cernere, caecus erat.
Paul's conversion and blindness.
Why, Lord, this twofold glory of Thy ray,
Giving him sight whose sight it takes away?
Paul in that night God's inner light shall find:
That he may see The Christ his eyes are blind. Cl.
CLXXV.
Ego sum Via. Ad Judaeos spretores Christi. Joan. xiv. 6.
O sed nec calcanda tamen: pes improbe, pergis?
Improbe pes, ergo hoc coeli erat ire viam?
Ah pereat, Judaec ferox, pes improbus ille,
Qui coeli tritam sic facit esse viam.
I am the Way. To the Jewish despisers of Christ.
Not to be trampled on, though: vile foot, stay;
Vile foot, is this to tread the heavenly Way?
Let that fierce Jewish foot to death be given,
Which thus wears out the blessÈd Way to heaven. R. Wi.
CLXXVI.
In nocturnum et hyemale iter infantis Domini. Matt. ii. 19-21.
Ergo viatores teneros, cum Prole parentem,
Nox habet hos, queis est digna nec ulla dies.
Nam quid ad haec Pueri vel labra genasve parentis?
Heu, quid ad haec facient oscula, nox et hyems!
Lilia ad haec facerent, faceret rosa; quicquid et halat
Aeterna Zephyrus qui tepet in viola.
Hi meruere, quibus vel nox sit nulla; vel ulla
Si sit, eat nostra purius illa die.
Ecce sed hos quoque nox et hyems clausere tenellos:
Et quis scit, quid nox, quid meditetur hyems?
Ah, ne quid meditetur hyems saevire per Austros,
Quaeque solet nigros nox mala ferre metus!
Ah, ne noctis eat currus non mollibus Euris,
Aspera ne tetricos nuntiet aura Notos!
Heu, quot habent tenebrae, quot vera pericula secum,
Quot noctem dominam quantaque monstra colunt!
Quot vaga quae falsis veniunt ludibria formis!
Trux oculus, Stygio concolor ala Deo!
Seu veris ea, sive vagis stant monstra figuris;
Virginei satis est hinc, satis inde metus.
Ergo veni; totoque veni resonantior arcu,
Cynthia, praegnantem clange procul pharetram.
Monstra vel ista vel illa, tuis sint meta sagittis:
Nec fratris jaculum certior aura vehat.
Ergo veni, totoque veni, flagrantior ore,
Dignaque Apollineas sustinuisse vices.
Scis bene quid deceat Phoebi lucere sororem:
Ex his, si nescis, Cynthia, disce genis.
O tua, in his, quanto lampas formosior iret!
Nox suam, ab his, quanto malit habere diem!
Quantum ageret tacitos haec luna modestior ignes,
Atque verecundis sobria staret equis!
Luna, tuae non est rosa tam pudibunda diei,
Nec tam Virgineo fax tua flore tremit.
Ergo veni; sed et astra, tuas age, Cynthia, turmas:
Illa oculos pueri, quos imitentur, habent.
Hinc oculo, hinc astro: at parili face nictat utrumque;
Aetheris os, atque os aethereum Pueri.
Aspice, quam bene res utriusque deceret utrumque!
Quam bene in alternas mutua regna manus!
Ille oculus coeli hoc si staret in aethere frontis;
Sive astrum hoc Pueri fronte sub aetherea.
Si Pueri hoc astrum aetherea sub fronte micaret,
Credat et hunc oculum non minus esse suum.
Ille oculus coeli, hoc si staret in aethere frontis,
Non minus in coelis se putet esse suis.
Tam pulchras variare vices cum fronte Puelli,
Cumque Puelli oculis aether et astra queant.
Astra quidem vellent; vellent aeterna pacisci
Foedera mutatae sedis inire vicem.
Aether et ipse, licet numero tam dispare, vellet
Mutatis oculis tam bona pacta dari.
Quippe iret coelum quanto melioribus astris,
Astra sua hos oculos si modo habere queat!
Quippe astra in coelo quantum meliore micarent,
Si frontem hanc possint coelum habuisse suum.
Aether et astra velint: frustra velit aether et astra:
Ecce negat Pueri frons, oculique negant.
Ah, neget illa, negent illi: nam quem aethera mallent
Isti oculi? aut frons haec quae magis astra velit?
Quid si aliquod blanda face lene renideat astrum?
Lactea si coeli terque quaterque via est?
Blandior hic oculus, roseo hoc qui ridet in ore;
Lactea frons haec est terque quaterque magis.
Ergo negent, coelumque suum sua sidera servent:
Sidera de coelis non bene danda suis.
Ergo negant: seque ecce sua sub nube recondunt,
Sub tenera occidui nube supercilii:
Nec claudi contenta sui munimine coeli,
Quaerunt in gremio matris ubi lateant.
Non nisi sic tactis ubi nix tepet illa pruinis,
Castaque non gelido frigore vernat hyems.
Scilicet iste dies tam pulchro vespere tingi
Dignus; et hos soles sic decet occidere.
Claudat purpureus qui claudit vesper Olympum;
Puniceo placeas tu tibi, Phoebe, toro;
Dum tibi lascivam Thetis auget adultera noctem,
Pone per Hesperias strata pudenda rosas.
Illas nempe rosas, quas conscia purpura pinxit;
Culpa pudorque suus queis dedit esse rosas.
Hos soles, niveae noctes, castumque cubile,
Quod purum sternet per mare virgo Thetis;
Hos, sancti flores; hos, tam sincera decebant
Lilia; quaeque sibi non rubuere rosae.
Hos, decuit sinus hic; ubi toto sidere proni
Ecce lavant sese lacteo in oceano.
Atque lavent: tandemque suo se mane resolvant,
Ipsa dies ex hoc ut bibat ore diem.
On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord.
These tender travellers, feel they Night's dark sway,
Mother and Child, too good for whitest day?
For how will mother's cheeks, or lips of Child,
How kisses fare, from Night and Winter wild?
With lilies these, with roses, should be blest,
Or sweetest breath of violet-perfum'd West.
Such travellers merited to have no night,
Or, if at all, one whiter than our light.
Winter and Night these tender ones enclose,
And what Night plots, or Winter, ah, who knows?
Ah, lest fell Winter with its north-winds rage,
Ill-omen'd Night its wonted fears engage.
Ah, lest rough east-winds should Night's chariot draw,
Or harsh south-winds should shake the heart with awe.
What real perils troop in Darkness' train,
Over what monsters Night extends her reign:
What vagrant phantoms, which in false shapes go,
Stern-ey'd, black-pinion'd, like the gods below!
But standing forth in false forms or in true,
For these, for those, a Virgin's dread is due.
Come then, come, Cynthia, with resounding bow,
And clang thy full-charg'd quiver at the foe.
These monsters, those, thy darts unerring share,
Nor truer aim thy brother's arrows bear:
Come, then, O come, with all thy face a-flame,
Worthy thyself to take Apollo's name.
Thou know'st how Phoebus' sister ought to shine;
If not, learn, Cynthia, from these cheeks divine.
Placed here thy torch more beauty would display,
And Night from hence prefer to draw its day;
Such moon more modest shed its silent beam,
And shamefac'd stay her softly-going team.
O Moon, thy day no rose so chaste resembles,
Thy torch with no such virgin beauty trembles.
Come then, but bring thy troops of stars likewise;
For they can try to shine like the Child's eyes.
An eye, a star, twinkling with equal grace,
The face of heaven and the Child's heavenly face.
How well the charm of each transferr'd would show,
From hand to hand the mutual sceptres go!
Whether heaven's eye should deck His skiey brow,
Or the Child's star adorn heaven's forehead now.
If the Child's star on heaven's forehead shone,
That eye would seem to Him not less His own.
Place on His skiey forehead heaven's eye,
Not less 'twould deem itself in its own sky.
Such interchanges might the stars and skies
Make charmingly with the Child's brow and eyes.
For change of place the stars indeed might like
An everlasting treaty now to strike;
And differing though in numbers, e'en the skies
Might wish to bargain for a change of eyes.
With how much better stars the sky would shine,
If as its stars it had these eyes divine!
The stars would shine in how much better heaven,
If as their sky this brow divine were given!
So sky and stars may choose—in vain they choose;
For the Child's brow and His fair eyes refuse.
Ah, wisely; for these eyes what better heaven
Could wish? what better stars to brow be given?
What though some gentle star more softly gleams?
What if heaven's way thrice, four times, milky seems?
Softer this eye which smiles in ruddy face;
This milk-white brow, thrice, four times is its grace.
To quit their heaven, let then these stars deny;
Stars ought not to be ta'en from their own sky.
They do deny; and soon in cloud are hid,
In tender shadow of the drooping lid.
Nor with their own defence content they rest,
But seek a hiding-place in mother's breast.
Thus the snow melts where His warm touch is plac'd,
And genial Spring blooms out of Winter chaste.
Such day such evening-dew deserves to drink;
Such suns in such a bed deserve to sink.
Sky-closing Eve, thy purple veil entwine,
Sun, thy luxurious couch incarnadine;
While wanton Thetis day too early closes,
Thy shameless bed place 'mid Hesperian roses;
Roses, forsooth, by conscious blushes painted,
By sin with its own tell-tale redness tainted.
Nights snowy-white, chaste couch to these suns be,
Which virgin Thetis spreads o'er lucent sea;
All-holy flowers, lilies inviolate,
Roses with innocent blush upon them wait.
Be theirs this bosom, where reclin'd all night
They bathe themselves in ocean milky-white.
And let them bathe, till their own morn say, rise;
And Day itself drink splendour from these eyes. R. Wi.
CLXXVII.
Non dico, me rogaturum Patrem pro vobis. Joan. xvi. 26.
Ah tamen ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
Ille suos omni facie te figit amores;
Inque tuos toto effunditur ore sinus.
Quippe, tuos spectans oculos, se spectat in illis;
Inque tuo, Jesu, se fovet ipse sinu.
Ex te metitur sese, et sua numina discit:
Inde repercussus redditur ipse sibi.
Ille tibi se, te ille sibi par nectit utrinque:
Tam tuus est, ut nec sit magis ille suus.
Ergo roga: ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
Illum ut ego rogitem? Hoc, eheu, non ore rogandum;
Ore satis puras non faciente preces.
Illum ego si rogitem, quis scit quibus ille procellis
Surgat, et in miserum hoc quae tonet ira caput?
Isto etiam forsan veniet mihi fulmen ab ore:
Saepe isto certe fulmen ab ore venit.
Ille una irati forsan me cuspide verbi,
Uno me nutu figet, et interii:
Non ego, non rogitem: mihi scilicet ille roganti
Durior esse potest, et solet esse, Pater.
Immo rogabo: nec ore meo tamen: immo rogabo
Ore meo, Jesu, scilicet ore tuo.
I do not say that I will pray the Father for you.
Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
With favouring eyes He makes Thee all His love;
Toward Thine heart, Lord, His whole affections move.
Beholding Thy fair eyes Himself He sees;
In Thy pure breast Himself He cherishes.
By Thee He metes Himself, His godhead learns,
And, sweet reversion! to Himself returns.
He Thee, Thou He, in one Ye intertwine;
He is His own no more, He is so Thine.
Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
Shall these lips, Lord, ask Him? But how should they?
With rightful words and pure they fail to pray.
If I should ask Him, then, what tempests dread,
What anger thundering o'er this wretched head!
His look perchance would gleam as lightning down—
Yea, oft, I know, as lightning falls His frown.
Perchance the javelin of one angry word,
One nod, would slay, and I should die unheard.
I? I'll not ask: Lord, He is wont to be,
He easy proves unkind, if ask'd of me.
Yet, stay: I'll ask:—not with these lips of mine;
Yea, with my lips,—my lips, Lord, namely Thine. A.
CLXXVIII.
In die ascensionis dominicae. Act. i. 9, 10.
Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?
Heu, coeli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!
Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera coeli,
Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;
Phoebenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,
Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.
Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?
Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.
Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,
Aether[85] descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.
??? ?t? ??te??? se, ???st?, ???e? t?? ???ta;
???a??? ??? ?ss?? t?? f????? ?? ???e??
???? ???e?. ??e? ?? ?? t? d' ????ata a????,
?st?a te ?a? F???? ?a? ?a?? t?? ?efe???.
?ss?? ???, ??? ?f?' e?? ?? t?de ?st???;
?st??? ?? ??? ?? e?s? t?? ?st?' ??at??.
???ta ?t??. ?t?, ???st?, s? ??? ???a??e? ?? a?t??,
??t?? ?? ?at?? ???a??? e?? s? te??.
On the day of the Lord's ascension.
Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
'Twere little they should leave one light below:
Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky. R. Wi.
CLXXIX.
Caecus implorat Christum. Marc. x. 46-52.
Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?
Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:
Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.
Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:
Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
???t' ????s?? ???, ????s??. ?a? t?? ??e???,
???st?, ??? ?a?, ??? ?d' ?e?? ??e?.
?f?a??? ?? ??e???, Te??, d?eta? t?de ??????
?? ?? t??t' a????, d?? ?? ??e??? f???.[86]
The blind man implores Christ.
Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb,
Before my Lord to me His speech addresses?
Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.
My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:
This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take. R. Wi.
CLXXX.
Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex illis, &c. Luc. xv. 4.
O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!
Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.
Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,
Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.
Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;
Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.
Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;
Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.
Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:
De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.
??? ?? ???, ? ?? p???? pe????e?, ?????
??? d? t?? s?? ?s?a? ????s??a? p????e?.
???? ? ? p???? f??? ?? p??e? d? te ???a.
?e???? t?? ??, ??? ??e?a d? ?????t???.
What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, &c.
O might I fire the angel-bands with joy,
Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ!
A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play;
All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say.
The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me;
Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee!
They give no joy who never caus'd a fear;
Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear.
Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment;
Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment. R. Wi.
CLXXXI.
Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti. Act. xii. 2.
Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum,
Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput.
Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam,
Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput.
Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde,
Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit.
To Herod beheading St. James.
Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke,
Or how on his blest head thine anger broke.
Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord
Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword.
Only this sacred sanguinary crown
That sunder'd head was able to weigh down. R. Wi.
CLXXXII.
Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur. Matt. xx. 34.
Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit:
Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum.
Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra
Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.[87]
?e?? ?p?a?????? ???st?? ?p?a??e? ?p?p??
?st?a? ?p?de?e? ?e??? ?e ?e??? Te??.
?e?? a?t? t??t??? p??e? ???a???. ?st?a ??? ??a?
?? ?e?? ta?t' ??se? ???st?? ?pe?ta ??.
The blind men having received their sight follow Christ.
See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create,
Which on that hand with due observance wait.
That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they
Which He will hold in His right hand one day. R. Wi.
CLXXXIII.
Zachaeus in sycomoro. Luc. xix. 4.
Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?
Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?
Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,
Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.
??pt' ?p???p??e?? ?e?e?? ?e??? d? te ?a?p?,
?a? f?????? se?? ?, s?????e, te???;
?a? ??? ?d' ???????? s?? ??? et????? ?p' ??????,
?p???? ? ??ad?? ?sseta? ???a????.
Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree.
Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?
Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?
He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,
A cluster soon will be of the True Vine. R. Wi.
CLXXXIV.
On our crucified Lord naked and bloody.
Th' have left Thee naked, Lord: O that they had!
This garment too I would they had deny'd.
Thee with Thyselfe they have too richly clad,
Opening the purple wardrobe of Thy side.
O never could bee found garments too good
For Thee to weare, but these of Thine own blood.
CLXXXV.
Sampson to his Dalilah.
Could not once blinding me, cruell, suffice?
When first I look't on thee, I lost mine eyes.
SECULAR EPIGRAMS.
I.
Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken Heart.'
Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak'st one seeme two by art:
What is Love's Sacrifice but The Broken Heart?
II.
Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, sent to a gentlewoman.
Lo here the faire Chariclea, in whom strove
So false a fortune and so true a love!
Now after all her toyles by sea and land,
O may she but arrive at your white hand!
Her hopes are crown'd; onely she feares that than
Shee shall appeare true Ethiopian.
III.
On marriage.
I would be married, but I'de have no wife:
I would be married to a single life.
IV.
On Nanus mounted upon an ant.
High-mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
Was throwne, alas, and got a deadly fall;
Vnder th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies
All torne: with much adoe yet ere he dyes
Hee straines these words: Base Envy, doe laugh on:
Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.
V.
Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes.
What, Mars his sword? faire Cytherea, say,
Why art thou arm'd so desperately to-day?
Mars thou hast beaten naked; and, O then,
What needst thou put on armes against poore men?
VI.
Vpon the same.
Pallas saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cry'd:
Come if thou dar'st; thus, thus let us be try'd.
Why, foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee,
That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?
VII.
Out of Martiall.
Foure teeth thou hadst, that, ranck'd in goodly state,
Kept thy mouth's gate.
The first blast of thy cough left two alone;
The second, none.
This last cough, Delia, cought-out all thy feare;
Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
These Secular, or, as the word was, 'Humane' Epigrams, all originally appeared in the volume of 1646, as before, and were continued in the after-editions. It is pleasant to have this recognition of John Ford (I.) by Crashaw. The two Tragedies celebrated, appeared in the same year, 1633. The 'Faire Ethiopian' of II. was doubtless William Lisle's poem so named [Lond. 1632],—not given by Hazlitt, s.n. The others are too well known to need annotation. These are all preserved, with a collection of others, in the Tanner MS., as before. G.
Latin Poems.
