Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contraFerre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.
Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contraFerre 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 wonderThou 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.
O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonderThou 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.
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]
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.
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.
Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus.Luc. xxii. 26.
O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?At vero fies hac ratione minor.Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.
O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?At vero fies hac ratione minor.Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.
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 oneSubmit: this, this is Christ's ambition.B.
The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.That thou mai'st not go less, to every oneSubmit: this, this is Christ's ambition.B.
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.
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 earsA fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears.R. Wi.
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 earsA fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears.R. Wi.
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.
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.
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.
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]
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 takeThe 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.
To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did takeThe 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.
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.
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 bequeathThe life thou took'st from him unto his death.Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lyeKeepe but the score[77]of them that made him dye.Cr.
Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeathThe life thou took'st from him unto his death.Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lyeKeepe 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 plaintsDoth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd.G.
What means this labour on the tombs of saints,Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaintsDoth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd.G.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Οὐδὲν ἐγὼ, Λουκᾶ, παρά σου μοὶ φάρμακον αἰτῶ,Κἂν σὺ δ' ἰατρὸς ἔῃς, κἂν μὲν ἐγὼ νοσερός.Ἀλλ' ἐν ὅσῳ παράδειγμα πέλεις μοὶ πίστιος, αὐτὸς,Αὐτὸς ἰατρὸς ἐμοί γ' ἐσσὶ ἀκεστορίη.
Οὐδὲν ἐγὼ, Λουκᾶ, παρά σου μοὶ φάρμακον αἰτῶ,Κἂν σὺ δ' ἰατρὸς ἔῃς, κἂν μὲν ἐγὼ νοσερός.Ἀλλ' ἐν ὅσῳ παράδειγμα πέλεις μοὶ πίστιος, αὐτὸς,Αὐτὸς ἰατρὸς ἐμοί γ' ἐσσὶ ἀκεστορίη.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum.
Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtusJam 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?
Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtusJam 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.
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 debtIs 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.
Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debtIs 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 PresenceGave greatest cause to grieve.G.
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 PresenceGave greatest cause to grieve.G.
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.
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.
'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.
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.
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.
Οἶκος ὅδ' ἐστ' αὐλή; οὐ μή. τεὸς οἶκος, Ἰησοῦ,Ἔν θ' ᾧ τὺ τίκτῃ αὔλιον οὐ πέλεται.Οἴκων μὲν πάντων μάλα δὴ κάλλιστος ἐκεῖνος·Οὐρανοῦ οὐδὲ τεοῦ μικρότερος πέλεται.Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέῳ δῶμ' ἐμπυρίζετο χρυσῷ,Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέοις δῶμα ῥόδοισι γελᾷ.Ἤν ῥόδον οὐχὶ γελᾷ, ἢν οὐδέ τε χρυσὸς ἐκεῖθεν·Ἐκ σοῦ δ' ὀφθαλμῶν ἐστιν ἐλεγχέμεναι.
Οἶκος ὅδ' ἐστ' αὐλή; οὐ μή. τεὸς οἶκος, Ἰησοῦ,Ἔν θ' ᾧ τὺ τίκτῃ αὔλιον οὐ πέλεται.Οἴκων μὲν πάντων μάλα δὴ κάλλιστος ἐκεῖνος·Οὐρανοῦ οὐδὲ τεοῦ μικρότερος πέλεται.Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέῳ δῶμ' ἐμπυρίζετο χρυσῷ,Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέοις δῶμα ῥόδοισι γελᾷ.Ἤν ῥόδον οὐχὶ γελᾷ, ἢν οὐδέ τε χρυσὸς ἐκεῖθεν·Ἐκ σοῦ δ' ὀφθαλμῶν ἐστιν ἐλεγχέμεναι.
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.
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.
S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus.Act. vii. 57-60.
Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustumHaec 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; meiqueIpse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.
Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustumHaec 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; meiqueIpse 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 tellThat 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.
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 tellThat 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.
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]
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.
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.
In tenellos martyres.
Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitaeHoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortisHoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.
Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitaeHoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortisHoc 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 tragedyWrought upon Calvary,No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,Whence, then, shall come the blowTo 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 blowTo Mary, virgin-mother?Perchance the dim-ey'd seerBy sword intended spear:No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;Whence, then, shall come the blowTo 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 blowTo Mary, virgin-mother?In the dread tragedyWrought upon Calvary,Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,Smote Thee, pierc'd as a swordMary, the virgin-mother.G.
Since in the tragedyWrought upon Calvary,No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,Whence, then, shall come the blowTo 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 blowTo Mary, virgin-mother?
Perchance the dim-ey'd seerBy sword intended spear:No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;Whence, then, shall come the blowTo 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 blowTo Mary, virgin-mother?
In the dread tragedyWrought upon Calvary,Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,Smote Thee, pierc'd as a swordMary, the virgin-mother.G.
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.
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 divineSend 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.
Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divineSend 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Blessing's in Thy every sign,But the Tempter each pollutes:Thou the water makest wine,He the wine to woe transmutes.G.
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 quaeMultum 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 ipsoEsse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.
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 quaeMultum 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 ipsoEsse 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 fearBeing fit for God, since God Himself is here.R. Wi.
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 fearBeing fit for God, since God Himself is here.R. Wi.
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]
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.
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.
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.
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 windThat 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 thisOf your own cowardiseThat braves you out;You are the storme that mocksYourselves; you are the rocksOf your owne doubt:Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare.Cr.
As if the storme meant Him,Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,His needs a cloud.Was ever froward windThat 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 thisOf your own cowardiseThat braves you out;You are the storme that mocksYourselves; you are the rocksOf 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.
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.
Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus Romani.Act. xvi. 21.
Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solisRomanis igitur non licet esse piis?Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armisAltus anhelanti detonuisset equo;Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbemSueta 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.
Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solisRomanis igitur non licet esse piis?Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armisAltus anhelanti detonuisset equo;Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbemSueta 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 worldHad 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.
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 worldHad 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.
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.Ἀρτος ἔην τοι δῆτ', εἰπεῖν θέμις ἐστὶν, ἐκεῖνος,Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην και λίθος, ἀλλὰ τεός.Ἢν οὓτως τοῦ πατρὸς ἔῃ μεγάλου τὸ θέλημα,Ἄρτος ὅτ' οὐκ ἦν τοι, Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην.
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.
Ἀρτος ἔην τοι δῆτ', εἰπεῖν θέμις ἐστὶν, ἐκεῖνος,Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην και λίθος, ἀλλὰ τεός.Ἢν οὓτως τοῦ πατρὸς ἔῃ μεγάλου τὸ θέλημα,Ἄρτος ὅτ' οὐκ ἦν τοι, Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην.
Command that this stone become a loaf.