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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:10:36 -0700 |
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diff --git a/38550-h/38550-h.htm b/38550-h/38550-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..722dee7 --- /dev/null +++ b/38550-h/38550-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18414 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II (of 2), by Richard Crashaw</title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + + h1 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 6em; + clear: both; +} + + h2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +.pindent {text-indent: 1em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%} +hr.full {width: 95%;} + +hr.r10 {width: 10%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} + +ul.index { list-style-type: none; } +li.ifrst { margin-top: 1em; } +li.indx { margin-top: .5em; } + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + border-collapse: collapse; +} + +.pagenum { + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + display: inline; + right: 3%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + color: #808080; + font-style: normal; + border: 1px solid silver; + padding: 1px 4px 1px 4px; + font-variant: normal; + font-weight: normal; + text-decoration: none; + text-indent: 0em; + } + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + display: inline; + right: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; +} /* poetry number */ + +.sidenote { + width: 10%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.source { + width: 5%; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + color: black; +} + +.pad {padding-left: 8px; padding-right: 8px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Images */ +.figtop { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + clear: both; + margin-top: 6em; +} + +.figbottom { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + clear: both; + margin-top: 2em; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px; + background-color: #EEE; + padding: 0 1em 1em 1em; +} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i1 { + display: block; + margin-left: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i6 { + display: block; + margin-left: 6em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i8 { + display: block; + margin-left: 8em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i10 { + display: block; + margin-left: 10em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i12 { + display: block; + margin-left: 12em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i16 { + display: block; + margin-left: 16em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; } + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume +II (of 2), by Richard Crashaw, Edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II (of 2)</p> +<p>Author: Richard Crashaw</p> +<p>Editor: Alexander Balloch Grosart</p> +<p>Release Date: January 13, 2012 [eBook #38550]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4 class="center">E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/toronto">http://www.archive.org/details/toronto</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Project Gutenberg also has + <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm">Volume I</a> of this work.<br /> + <br /> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft"> + http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center p2"><big>The Fuller Worthies' Library.</big></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h1><small><small>THE</small></small><br /> + +COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.<br /> + +<small><small>IN TWO VOLUMES.</small></small><br /> + +<small>VOL. II.</small></h1> + +<p class="center"><big>ESSAY ON LIFE AND WRITINGS.<br /> +EPIGRAMMATA ET POEMATA LATINA: TRANSLATED FOR THE<br /> +FIRST TIME. GLOSSARIAL INDEX.</big></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center p6">LONDON:<br /> +ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center p6"><big>The Fuller Worthies' Library.</big></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h1><small>THE COMPLETE WORKS</small><br /> + +<small><small>OF</small></small><br /> + +RICHARD CRASHAW.</h1> + +<p class="center">FOR THE FIRST TIME COLLECTED<br /> +AND COLLATED WITH THE ORIGINAL AND EARLY EDITIONS,<br /> +AND MUCH ENLARGED WITH</p> + +<p> + I. Hitherto unprinted and inedited Poems from Archbishop Sancroft's + <span class="smcap">mss.</span> &c. &c.<br /> + II. Translation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata.<br /> +III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes.<br /> + IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own Illustrations + of 1652, with others specially prepared.</p> + +<p class="center">EDITED BY THE</p> + +<h2>REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART,</h2> + +<p class="center">ST. GEORGE'S, BLACKBURN, LANCASHIRE.</p> + +<h2><small>IN TWO VOLUMES.</small><br /> +VOL. II.</h2> + +<p class="center">PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION.<br /> +1873.</p> + +<p><i><small>156 copies printed.</small></i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_m.png" width="550" height="108" alt="Decoration M" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<p>In our Essay and Notes in the present Volume we so +fully state such things as it seemed expedient to state +on the specialties of our collection of Crashaw's Latin +and Greek Poetry, in common with our like collection +of his English Poetry in Vol. I., that little remains for +preface here, beyond our wish renewedly to express +our gratitude and obligations to our fellow-workers on +the Translations now submitted. The names given at +p. 4 herein, and the markings on the margin of the +Contents, will show how generously my own somewhat +large proportion of the task of love has been lightened +by them; and throughout I have been aided and animated +by the cordiality with which the friends have +responded to my demands, or spontaneously sent their +contributions. Preëminently I owe thanks to my 'brother +beloved,' the Rev. <span class="smcap">Richard Wilton</span>, M.A., Londesborough +Rectory, Market Weighton.</p> + +<p>On the text of the Latin and Greek I refer to the +close of our Essay; but I must acknowledge willing +and scholarly help, on certain points whereon I consulted +them, from Rev. Dr. <span class="smcap">Holden</span>, Ipswich, Rev. Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">vi</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Jessopp</span>, Norwich, and <span class="smcap">W. Aldis Wright</span>, Esq. M.A. +Cambridge (as before); albeit the inevitable variety of +suggested emendations, as onward, compelled me to +limit myself to as accurate a reproduction as possible +of the text of Crashaw himself, obvious misprints excepted.</p> + +<p>I have now to record the various University Collections +wherein Crashaw's earliest poetical efforts appeared—all +showing a passionate loyalty, which indeed +remained with him to the end.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>a</i>) Anthologia in Regis exanthemata; seu gratulatio +Musarum Cantabrigiensium de felicissime conservata +Regis Caroli valetudine, 1632.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>b</i>) Ducis Eboracensis Fasciae a Musis Cantabrigiensibus +raptim contextae, 1633.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>c</i>) Rex Redux; sive Musa Cantabrigiensis Voti<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">... et felici reditu Regis Caroli post receptam coronam</span><br /> +comitaque peracta in Scotia, 1633.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>d</i>) Carmen Natalitium ad cunas illustrissimae Principis +Elizabethae decantatum intra Nativitatis Dom. +solemnia per humiles Cantabrigiae Musas, 1635.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>e</i>) <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Συνῳδία</span>, sive Musarum Cantabrigiensium concentus +et congratulatio ad serenissimum Britanniarum +Regem Carolum de quinta sua sobole clarissima Principe +sibi nuper felicissime nata, 1637.</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>f</i>) Voces votivae ab Academicis Cantabrigiensibus +pro novissimo Caroli et Mariae Principe Filio emissae, +1640.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">vii</a></span></p> + +<p>It is a noticeable fact, that Crashaw while still so +young should have been invited to contribute to these +University Collections along with Wren, Henry More, +Edward King ('Lycidas'), Joseph Beaumont, Edward +Rainbow, and kindred. His pieces in each are recorded +in the places in our Volumes. They invite +critical comment; but our space is fully exhausted.</p> + +<p>By the liberality of <span class="smcap">F. Madox-Brown</span>, Esq. R.A. +I am enabled to furnish (in the 4to) in this our Second +Volume an admirable photograph, by Hollyer of London, +of his cartoon for the memorial-window in Peterhouse, +Cambridge. Peterhouse is at late-last doing +honour to some of her sons thus. Professor Ward, of +Owens' College, Manchester, has the praise, as the privilege, +of presenting the Crashaw portion of the fine +Window. The figure is full of dignity and impressiveness; +we may accept the creation of the Painter's genius +for a Portrait. The accessories are suggestive of familiar +facts in the life and poetry of Crashaw. Vignette-illustrations +from <span class="smcap">W.J. Linton</span>, Esq. and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Blackburn</span> +again adorn our volume (in 4to). I regard that +to the 'Captive Bird' (p. xxi.) as a gem. Finally, I cannot +sufficiently acknowledge the cultured sympathy +with which Mr. <span class="smcap">Charles Robson</span> (of my Printers), one +of the old learned school, has coöperated with me in +securing accuracy. To 'err is human,' but I believe +our Volumes will be found as little blemished as most. +One misprint, however, caught our eye, just when our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> +completed Vol. I. was sent out, which troubled us as +much as ever it would have done Ritson, viz. 'anchor' +for 'arrow' in Cowley's 'Hope' (p. 176, l. 23). Gentle +Reader, be so good as correct this at once.</p> + +<p class="right">A.B.G.</p> + +<p>Park View, Blackburn, Lancashire,<br /> +March 4, 1873.</p> + +<p>P.S. Three small overlooked items bearing on Crashaw +having been recovered from a missing Note-book, +I add them here.</p> + +<p>(<i>a</i>) The 1670 edition of the 'Steps,' &c. (whose +title-page is given in Vol. I. xliv.) was re-issued with +an undated title-page as 'The Third Edition. London, +Printed for <i>Richard Bently</i>, <i>Jacob Tonson</i>, <i>Francis +Saunders</i>, and <i>Tho. Bennett</i>.' It is from the same type, +and identical in every way except the fresh title-page, +with the (so-called) '2d Edition.'</p> + +<p>(<i>b</i>) In Thomas Shipman's 'Carolina, or Loyal Poems' +(1683) there is a somewhat scurril piece entitled 'The +Plagiary, 1658. Upon S.C., Presbyterian Minister +and Captain, stealing forty-eight lines from Crashaw's +Poems, to patch-up an Elegy for Mr. F. P[ierpont].' A +very small specimen must suffice:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">'Soft, sir,—stand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are arraign'd for theft; hold up your hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impudent theft as ever was exprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to steal jewels only, but the chest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to nib bits of gold from Crashaw's lines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But swoop whole strikes together from his mynes.'<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Another piece, 'The Promise. To F.L. Esq., with +Crashaw's Poems (1653),' has nothing quotable.</p> + +<p>(<i>c</i>) In Aylett's Poems, 'Peace with her Fowre Gardens,' +&c. (1622), there are three little commendatory +poems signed 'R.C.,' and these have been assigned to +Crashaw; but '1622' forbids this, as he was then only +in his 9-10th year. <span class="source">G.</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi"></a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<blockquote><p>As neither Crashaw nor his early Editors furnished Contents to the Epigrammata +et Poemata, we are left free to decide thereon; and inasmuch +as (<i>a</i>) our translations are intended to make Vol. II. as generally accessible +and understood as Vol. I, and as (<i>b</i>) very few of those here first +printed have headings, or the Scripture-texts only—we have deemed it +expedient to give as Contents the subjects in English. The Scholar-student +will find the Latin headings of the Author in their places. In the right-hand +margin the initials of the respective Translators are given; on +which see pp. 4-5, and Notes to the successive divisions. [*] on left-hand +margin indicates there is a Greek version also: [†] printed for first time: +[‡] translated for first time. <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_1_1">I. <span class="smcap">Sacred Epigrams</span>, 1-164.<br />1634-1670.</a></th></tr> +<tr><th align="right"></th><th align="left"></th><th align="left">TRANS.</th><th align="right">PAGE</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#Page_2">Note</a></td><td align="left"></td><td align="right">2</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#Page_7">Dedication: Latin, pp. 7-11; English</a></td><td align="left">G., <span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">11</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#Page_16">To the Reader: Latin, pp. 16-22; English</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">22</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*</td><td align="left"><a href="#Page_35">1. Two went up into the Temple to pray</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">35</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_2">2. Upon the asse that bore our Saviour</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">36</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_3">3. The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">37</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_4">4. The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">37</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_5">5. Christ to Thomas</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span>, A.</td><td align="right">38</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_6">6. Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it</a></td><td align="left">A., <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">39, 206</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_7">7. Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto the sepulchre</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">40</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_8">8. On the miracle of multiplyed loaves</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">40</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_9">9. On the baptized Ethiopian</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">41</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_10">10. The publican standing afar off, smote on his breast</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">42</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_11">11. The widow's mites</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">43<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">xii</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_12">12. Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">43</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_13">13. The descent of the Holy Spirit</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">44</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_14">14. On the Prodigall</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">45</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_15">15. I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye</a><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">45</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_16">16. On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">46</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_17">17. When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">46</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_18">18. He offered them money</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">47</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_19">19. The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">47</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_20">20. The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">48</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_21">21. And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G., A.</td><td align="right">49</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_22">22. The ungrateful lepers</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">50</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_23">23. Be ye not fretted about to-morrow</a></td><td align="left">G., A.</td><td align="right">51</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_24">24. Matthew called from the receipt of custom</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">52</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_25">25. The dead son re-delivered to his mother</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">52</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_26">26. It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">53</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_27">27. The man ill of dropsy cured</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">54</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_28">28. There was no room for them in the Inn</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_29">29. Upon Lazarus his teares</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_30">30. Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">56</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_31">31. But though He had done so many miracles, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">56</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_32">32. To S. Andrew, fisherman</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">57</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_33">33. I am the voice</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">57</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_34">34. The chains spontaneously fall off</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">58</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_35">35. On All-Saints' Day</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">58</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_36">36. Upon the Powder-day</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">59</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_37">37. God in the Virgin's womb</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">59</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_38">38. To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">61</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_39">39. St. John in exile</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">61</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_40">40. To the infant martyrs</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">62</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_41">41. The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">63</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_42">42. I am not worthy, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">63</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_43">43. And He answered them nothing</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">64</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_44">44. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">65</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_45">45. The Word among thorns</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">65<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">xiii</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_46">46. The Judaic and Christian Sabbath</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">66</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_47">47. The blind cured by the word of our Saviour</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">67</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_48">48. My burden is light</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">67</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_49">49. On the miracle of loaves</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, <span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">67</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_50">50. Now we know Thee to have a devil</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">68</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_51">51. On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">69</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_52">52. On the wounds of our crucified Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">69</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_53">53. Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">71</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_54">54. Come, see the place where the Lord lay<br />Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">72</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_55">55. The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">72</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_56">56. On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">73</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_57">57. The sick implore St. Peter's shadow</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">74</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_58">58. Why are ye troubled? Behold My hands, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">75</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_59">59. The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">75</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_60">60. From his body there were brought ... handkerchiefs, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">76</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_61">61. Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">76</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_62">62. Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">77</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_63">63. But men loved darkness rather than light</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B., G.</td><td align="right">77</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_64">64. Dives asking a drop</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">78</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_65">65. How can a man be born when he is old?</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">79</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_66">66. The tree dried up by the word of Christ</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">80</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_67">67. Zacharias incredulous</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">80</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_68">68. On the water of our Lord's baptisme</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">81</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_69">69. The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">81</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_70">70. Neither durst any man ... ask Him any more questions</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">82</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_71">71. St. John and his mother</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">82</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_72">72. If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">83</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_73">73. The Lord weeping over the Jews</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">83</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_74">74. Nor even as this publican</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">84</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_75">75. On Saul blinded with too much light</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">84</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_76">76. Blessed are the eyes which see</a></td><td align="left">B., G.</td><td align="right">85</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_77">77. Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">85</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_78">78. On the wise of this world</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">86</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_79">79. The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">87</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_80">80. The casting down of the dragon</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">87<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">xiv</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_81">81. The blessed Virgin believing</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">87</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_82">82. Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar?</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">88</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_83">83. The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">89</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_84">84. The fishermen called</a></td><td align="left">B., G., A.</td><td align="right">89</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_85">85. Give to Cæsar ... and to God</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">90</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_86">86. The Lord borne on the ass</a></td><td align="left">B., <span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">90</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_87">87. They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">91</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_88">88. Except I shall put my fingers, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">91</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_89">89. To the Jews stoning Stephen</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">92</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_90">90. To St. John the beloved disciple</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">92</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_91">91. Upon the infant martyrs</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap"> Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">93</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_92">92. God with us</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">93</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_93">93. The circumcision of Christ: Vol. I. pp. 48-9; and</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">94</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_94">94. The Epiphany of our Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">94</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_95">95. Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">95</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_96">96. Water turned into wine</a></td><td align="left">G., <span class="smcap">Cl.</span>, A.</td><td align="right">96</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_97">97. The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">97</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_98">98. Why are ye so fearful?</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">97</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_99">99. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">98</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_100">100. Good seed in the field</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">99</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_101">101. She began to wash His feet, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, <span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">99</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_102">102. What seekest that I do to thee?</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_103">103. The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">101</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_104">104. Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">101</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_105">105. Christ the Vine (including the branches)</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">102</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_106">106. Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">102</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_107">107. Christ the good Shepherd</a></td><td align="left">B., <span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">103</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_108">108. On the wounds of the crucified Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">104</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_109">109. The paralytic healed</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">104</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_110">110. Then took they up stones</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">105</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_111">111. On the Resurrection of the Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">105</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_112">112. But some doubted</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">106</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_113">113. The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">106</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_114">114. John sends to Jesus, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">107</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_115">115. On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">108<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">xv</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_116">116. The withered hand healed</a></td><td align="left">G., B.</td><td align="right">108</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_117">117. To Pontius washing his hands</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">108</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_118">118. The stater-giving fish</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">109</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_119">119. I have overcome the world</a></td><td align="left">B., A.</td><td align="right">110</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_120">120. On the ascension of our Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">111</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_121">121. The descent of the Holy Spirit</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">112</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_122">122. God so loved the world, that He gave His ... Son</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">112</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_123">123. I have bought five yoke of oxen</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">113</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_124">124. St. Paul healing the lame man with a word, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">113</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_125">125. To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ</a></td><td align="left">W.</td><td align="right">114</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_126">126. The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">115</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_127">127. The Pharisees murmured, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G., B.</td><td align="right">116</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_128">128. On the beam of the Pharisee</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">116</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_129">129. They determined ... he should be put out of the synagogue</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">117</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_130">130. Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">117</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_131">131. To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">118</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_132">132. Christ overcoming the world</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">119</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_133">133. The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">119</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_134">134. He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger</a></td><td align="left">B.</td><td align="right">120</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_135">135. He beheld the city, and wept over it</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">120</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_136">136. Christ in Egypt</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">121</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_137">137. The blind confessing Christ, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G., B.</td><td align="right">121</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_138">138. If any man will come after Me, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">122</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_139">139. And he left all ... and followed Him</a></td><td align="left">B., G.</td><td align="right">122</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_140">140. Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">123</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_141">141. The man with the withered hand, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">123</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_142">142. Luke the beloved physician</a></td><td align="left">B., A.</td><td align="right">124</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_143">143. The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">125</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_144">144. To the assembly of all the S</a></td><td align="left">W., A.</td><td align="right">125</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_145">145. Christ heals in absence</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">127</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_146">146. The man born blind</a></td><td align="left">B., A.</td><td align="right">127</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_147">147. And they laughed at Him</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">127</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_148">148. The wisdom of the world</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">128</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_149">149. On the stable where our Lord was born</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">128<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">xvi</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_150">150. St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">130</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_151">151. On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">130</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_152">152. The infant-martyrs</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">131</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_153">153. They brought unto Him all sick people, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">131</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_154">154. A sword shall pierce through thy own soul</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">132</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_155">155. On the blood of the Lord's circumcision</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">133</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_156">156. The Child Jesus among the doctors</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">134</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_157">157. To our Lord, upon the water made wine</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">135</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_158">158. The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the Temple</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">135</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_159">159. The leper beseeching</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">136</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_160">160. Why are ye afraid?</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, B.</td><td align="right">137</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_161">161. They teach customs, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">138</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_162">162. Command that this stone become a loaf</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">139</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_163">163. The woman of Canaan</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">139</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_164">164. Upon the dumbe devill cast out, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">140</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_165">165. They said, This is of a truth that Prophet</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">141</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_166">166. It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">141</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_167">167. They gave large money to the soldiers</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">142</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_168">168. To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">143</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_169">169. To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">144</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_170">170. On the day of the Lord's Passion</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">144</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_171">171. On the day of the Lord's Resurrection, &c.</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">146</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_172">172. On the scars of the Lord still remaining</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">147</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_173">173. My peace I give unto you</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">149</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_174">174. Paul's conversion and blindness</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">149</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_175">175. I am the Way, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">150</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_176">176. On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">150</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_177">177. I do not say that I will pray the Father for you</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">157</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_178">178. On the day of the Lord's Ascension</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">159</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_179">179. The blind man implores Christ</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">160</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_180">180. What man of you having an hundred sheep, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">161</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_181">181. To Herod beheading St. James</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">162</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_182">182. The blind men having received their sight, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">163</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">*</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_183">183. Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">164<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">xvii</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_184">184. On our crucified Lord, naked and bloody</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">164</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_185">185. Sampson to his Dalilah</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">164</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#SECULAR_EPIGRAMS"><span class="smcap">Secular Epigrams</span>, 165-6.</a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_1">1. Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken Heart'</a></td><td></td><td align="right">165</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_2">2. Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, &c.</a></td><td></td><td align="right">165</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_3">3. On marriage</a></td><td></td><td align="right">165</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_4">4. On Nanus mounted upon an ant</a></td><td></td><td align="right">165</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_5">5. Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes</a></td><td></td><td align="right">166</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_6">6. Vpon the same</a></td><td></td><td align="right">166</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#s_7">7. Out of Martiall</a></td><td></td><td align="right">166</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_1_2">II. <span class="smcap">Sacred Epigrams, never before printed</span>, 167-205.</a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_1">1. St. Paul and the viper</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">169</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_2">2. The miracle of the loaves</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">169</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_3">3. Of the tears of the suffering Christ</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">170</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_4">4. The sepulchre of the Lord</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">171</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_5">5. The parting words of Love</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">172</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_6">6. Herod devoured of worms</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">172</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_7">7. It is good to be here</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_8">8. Look on the lilies, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_9">9. The deaf healed</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_10">10. The modesty of the blessed Virgin</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">174</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_11">11. I send you as lambs, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">174</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_12">12. Christ carried by the devil</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">175</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_13">13. St. John the Baptist a voice</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">175</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_14">14. John the Voice, Christ the Word</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">176</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_15">15. On the birth of the Lord, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">176</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_16">16. Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">177</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_17">17. I am the True Vine</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">178</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_18">18. The departure of Christ lamented, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">178</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_19">19. On the descent of the Holy Spirit</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">179</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_20">20. Life and Death</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">179</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_21">21. I am the Doore</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">180</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_22">22. Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">181</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_23">23. Nicodemus</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">181</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_24">24. To Domitian, concerning St. John, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">183</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_25">25. The voice of the Baptist</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">183</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_26">26. On St. Peter loosed by the angel</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">184<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">xviii</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_27">27. On St. Peter casting away his nets, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">184</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_28">28. The Lamb of God, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">185</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_29">29. The miraculous draught of fishes</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">186</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_30">30. Lord, not my feet only, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">186</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_31">31. Though they beheld so many miracles, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">186</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_32">32. On the cloud which received the Lord</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">187</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_33">33. He saw the city, and wept over it</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">188</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_34">34. Nor even as this publican</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">189</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_35">35. His Disciples came and awoke Him</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">189</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_36">36. The woman of Canaan</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">189</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_37">37. Wherefore sitteth your Master with sinners, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">191</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_38">38. Miracles of healing, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">191</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_39">39. To St. Luke the physician</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">192</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_40">40. He bears His own cross</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">193</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_41">41. Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_42">42. And they spat upon Him</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_43">43. He besought that He would go with him, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_44">44. For dread came upon him, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">196</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_45">45. But now they have seen and hated</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">196</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_46">46. The blind suppliant</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">197</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_47">47. The Pharisees insidiously watching, &c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">199</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_48">48. Touched the hem of His garment, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">200</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_49">49. The departing Saviour</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">200</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_50">50. Paul unfearing [page 45, and]</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">201</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_51">51. The message of the Baptist to Christ</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">202</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_52">52. Gifts to Jesus</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">202</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_53">53. On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">203</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_54">54. Upon our Saviour's tombe, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">204</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_55">55. On the Holy Spirit descending, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">205</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_56">56. Life for death</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">205</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_57">57. On the Divine love</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">205</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_1_3"><span class="smcap">III. Latin Poems. Part First: Sacred. Hitherto +uncollected</span>, 207-218.</a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#FIDES_QUAE_SOLA_JUSTIFICAT">Faith, which alone justifies, exists not without hope and love</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">209</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#BAPTISMUS_NON_TOLLIT_FUTURA_PECCATA">Baptism cancels not after-sins</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">216<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">xix</a></span></td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_1_4"><span class="smcap">IV. Latin Poems. Part First: Sacred. Never before +printed,</span> 219-242.</a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#PSALMUS_I">Psalm 1.</a></td><td></td><td align="right">221</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IRA_PROCELLAE">Wrath of the judgment-whirlwind</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">221</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#CHRISTE_VENI">Even so: come, Lord Jesus</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">223</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#CIRCUMCISIO">Circumcision of Christ</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">225</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#VIRGO">The Virgin Mary, on losing the Child Jesus</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">229</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#APOCALYPSE_XII_7">War in heaven</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">231</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#NON_ACCIPIMUS_BREVEM_VITAM">We do not receive, but make, a short life</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">233</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#DE_SANGUINE_MARTYRUM">Martyrs</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">235</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#SPES">Hope</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">237</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#ON_STEPHENS_CROWN">On Stephen's crown</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">239</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#EXPOSTULATIO_JESU_CHRISTI">Jesus Christ's expostulation with an ungrateful world</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">241</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_2_1"><span class="smcap">Latin Poems. Part Second: Secular</span>, 243-92.<br /> + I. <i>From 'Steps to the Temple' and 'Delights of the Muses.'</i></a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#BULLA">The Bubble</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">247</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#TRANQUILLITAS_ANIMI">Peace of mind, under the similitude of a captive song-bird</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">258</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#DAMNO_AFFICI_SAEPE_FIT_LUCRUM">Gain out of loss</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">263</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#HUMANAE_VITAE_DESCRIPTIO">Description of human life</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">266</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_PYGMALIONA">On Pygmalion</a></td><td align="left">A., G.</td><td align="right">269</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#ARION">Arion</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">273</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN">On Apollo pining for Daphne</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">279</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AENEAS_PATRIS_SUI_BAJULUS">Æneas the bearer of his father</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">283</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#PHOENICIS_GENETHLIACON_ET_EPICEDION">Of the generation and regeneration of the Phœnix</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">284</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#EPITAPHIUM">Epitaph</a></td><td align="left">A., G.</td><td align="right">286</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#ELEGIA">Elegy</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">289</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#THESAURUS_MALORUM_FOEMINA">Woman a treasury of evils</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">290</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_2_2"><span class="smcap">Latin Poems. Part Second: Secular. Never before printed</span>, 293-330.<br /> + II. <i>Miscellaneous and Commemorative.</i></a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#PULCHRA_NON_DIUTURNA">The beautiful not lasting</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">296</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#HYMNUS_VENERI">A hymn to Venus</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">300</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#VERIS_DESCRIPTIO">A description of Spring</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">303</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#PRISCIANUS_VERBERANS_ET_VAPULANS">Priscianus beaten and being beaten</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">308</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_LIBRUM">To a Tractate on this subject, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">315</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#MELIUS_PURGATUR_STOMACHUS_PER">Purgation</a></td><td></td><td align="right">317<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">xx</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#CUM_HORUM_ALIQUA_DEDICARAM">To my most estimable preceptor ... R. Brooke</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">319</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_OBITUM_REV_V_D_MANSELL">On death of Rev. Dr. Mansell</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">323</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#HONORATISSIMO_DR_ROBERTO_HEATH">To the Right Hon. Lord Robert Heath, on being made a judge, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">326</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†</td><td align="left"><a href="#HORATII_ODE">Ode on Horace, Lib. ii. 13, in Greek</a></td><td></td><td align="right">329</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="4"><a href="#Latin_Poems_2_3"><span class="smcap">Latin Poems. Part Second: Secular</span>, 331-84.<br /> + III. <i>Royal and Academical.</i></a></th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_CAROLUM_PRIMUM">The Return of the King</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">333</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_PRINCIPEM_NONDUM_NATUM">To the royal Infant not yet born</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">335</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_FACIEM_AUGUSTISSIMI_REGIS">To the King on recovery from small-pox</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">337</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE">To her serene Majesty child-bearing in winter</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">339</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_REGINAM_1">To the Queen</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">342</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE_LIBRUM_SUUM">To the Queen ... from the university</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">345</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#PRINCIPI_RECENS_NATAE">On birth of Princess Mary</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">346</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">†‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_NATALES_MARIAE_PRINCIPIS126">On the same</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">350</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_REGINAM_2">To the Queen</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">354</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#VOTIVA_DOMUS_PETRENSIS">The prayer of Peterhouse for the House of God [=its chapel]</a></td><td align="left">S.S.</td><td align="right">357</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_CAETERORUM_OPERUM">A groan on occasion of the difficult parturition of the remaining works of Peterhouse</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">362</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#VENERABILI_VIRO_MAGISTRO_TOURNAY">To the venerable man, Master Tournay, &c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">371</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#ORNATISSIMO_VIRO_PRAECEPTORI_SUO">To Master Brooke</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">374</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_REV_DRE_BROOKE_EPITAPHIUM">Epitaph on Dr. Brooke</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">376</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#EPITAPHIUM_IN_GULIELMUM_HERRISIUM">Epitaph on William Herries</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">378</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_EUNDEM_SCAZON">On the same</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">383</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">‡</td><td align="left"><a href="#IN_PICTURAM_REVERENDISSIMI_EPISCOPI">On the Portrait of Bishop Andrewes</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">384</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#GLOSSARIAL_INDEX">Glossarial Index</a></td><td></td><td align="right">385</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"></td><td align="left"><a href="#FOOTNOTES">Footnotes</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h2><span class="smcap">Illustrations in Vol. II. 4to.</span></h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="left">Photograph of the Cartoon for the memorial-window to Crashaw in Peterhouse, by F. Madox-Brown, Esq. R.A.</td><td align="right"><i>facing title-page.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The captive Song-bird, by Mrs. Blackburn</td><td align="right"><i>vignette to Essay.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Vignette illustrations, by W.J. Linton, Esq.</td><td align="right"><i>pp.</i> 96, 242, 251, 295, 329, 350, 373, 377.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">xxi</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="ESSAY_ON_THE_LIFE_AND_POETRY_OF" id="ESSAY_ON_THE_LIFE_AND_POETRY_OF"></a>ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND POETRY OF +CRASHAW.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<p>In our Memorial-Introduction (vol. i. p. xxvi.) we make +two promises, which fall now to be redeemed:</p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>a</i>) <span class="smcap">A Study of the Life and Poetry of Richard +Crashaw.</span></p> + +<p class="pindent">(<i>b</i>) <span class="smcap">A Memoir of William Crashaw, B.D., his Father.</span></p> + +<p>The latter is in so many ways elucidative and illuminative +of the former, outwardly and inwardly, that I deem +it well to give it first.</p> + + +<h3>I. <span class="smcap">Memoir of William Crashaw, B.D.</span></h3> + +<p>The late laborious and accurate Joseph Hunter, in his +<span class="smcap">MS.</span> collections yclept Chorus Vatum, which by rare good +fortune are preserved in the British Museum (Addl. <span class="smcap">mss.</span> +24.487, pp. 34-39), thus begins, <i>s.n.</i></p> + +<p>'I am here introducing a name which may be said +to be hitherto unknown in the regions of Poetry, and +which has been unaccountably passed over by biographical +writers of every class; yet one who has just claims on our +attention of his own as well as in being the father of +Richard Crashaw, whose merits are admitted;' and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">xxii</a></span> +continues with a pleasant egotism that one can readily +pardon, 'and he has particular claims upon me, as having +been a native of the part of the kingdom from which I +spring, and bearing a name which is that of a numerous +family from whom I descend.'</p> + +<p>We shall find onward, that the elder Crashaw had a +unique gift of Poetry; but independent of that, a somewhat +prolonged acquaintance with his numerous books +enables us emphatically to ratify the 'claims' of '<i>his own</i>' +otherwise—though in strong, even fierce, antagonism as +Divine and Writer to his gentle-natured son's after-opinions.</p> + +<p>Hitherto, in the brief and meagre notices of his son, +and of the paternal Crashaw, it has simply been stated +that he was a '<i>Yorkshireman</i>.' This is mentioned incidentally +in various places. We are now enabled by the +interest in our researches of local Antiquaries, together +with aid from the Hunter and Cole <span class="smcap">mss.</span>, to give for the +first time family-details. Handsworth, sometimes spelled +Hansworth, near Sheffield, one of the hamlets of England +in the 'Black Country'—once couched among green fields +and hedge-row 'lanes,' though now blighted and begrimed—was +the 'nest' of the Crashaws; and there and +in the neighbourhood the name is met with until comparatively +recent times.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> The Church-Register goes back to +1558, and under Baptisms, Aug. 24th, 1568, is this entry, +'Thomas, son of Richard Crawshaw, baptised;' and, alas, +under the following 'November 14th,' 'Thomas, son of +Richard Crawshaw, buried.' Next comes our Worthy:</p> + +<p>'1572, October 26th, <span class="smcap">Will.</span>, son of Richard Crawshaw, +baptised.' There follow: January 12th, 1574, 'Francis;' +November 24th, 1577, 'Ann'—both baptised; April 26th +1585, 'Richard,' son of Richard, buried; 1591, 'Robert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">xxiii</a></span> +Eairl [<i>sic</i>] and Dorothy Crawshaw married;' 1608, November +20th, 'Hellen Crawshaw, widow, buried.' Then in 1609, +1611, 1613, 1615, 1619, 1623, 1627, entries concerning the +'Francis' of 1574 and his household. The name does not +reappear until 1682, January 1st, when 'William, son of +William Crawshaw, is 'baptised;' and so the usual record +of the light and shadow of 'Births and Marriages and +Deaths' goes on until July 22d, 1729.</p> + +<p>It appears from these Register-data that the father +of our William Crashaw was named 'Richard,' and that +he died in April 1585, when Master William was passing +his 13th year. It also appears that his mother was +named 'Hellen,' and that she died as 'a widow' in November +1608. In addition to these entries, I have discovered +that this 'Hellen' was daughter of John Routh, of Waleswood; +a name of mark in Yorkshire, in itself and through +marriages.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> That we are right in all this is made certain +by his Will, wherein our Crashaw (<i>pater</i>) leaves 'to the +parishe of Hansworth, in Com. Ebor., where I was borne, +my owne works, all to be bounde together, to lye in the +churche; and fourty shillings in monye to the stocke of +the poor of that parishe.'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> So far as I can gather from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">xxiv</a></span> +several family-tables which have been furnished to me, +<i>the</i> Richard Crashaw, father of our William Crashaw, was +son of another Richard Crashaw, who in turn was Rector +of Aston, next parish to Handsworth, in 1539. Thus, if +not of 'blue blood' in the heraldic sense, the Crashaws +must have been well-to-do; for they are found not only +intermarrying with good Yorkshire families, but also occupying +considerable social status: <i>e.g.</i> a son of Francis—described +as of Hansworth-Woodhouse, a hamlet of +Hansworth—brother of William, was admitted to the +freedom of the Cutlers' Company of Sheffield in 1638, and +was Master in 1675. I have lineal descents brought down +to the present year; and the annals of the House may +hold their own in family-histories.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Our Worthy had +life-long intercourse and life-long friendships with the +foremost in Yorkshire, as his Will genially and quaintly +testifies.</p> + +<p>Fatherless in his 13th-14th year, his widowed mother +must have been in circumstances pecuniarily that enabled +her to have William, at least, '<i>prepared</i>' for the University. +He was of renowned 'St. John's,' Cambridge, designated +by him his 'deere nurse and spirituall mother.'<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> +A <span class="smcap">MS.</span> note by Thomas Baker, in his copy of 'Romish +Forgeries and Falsifications' (1606), now in the Library of +St. John's, furnishes almost the only definite notice of his +University career that I have met with, as follows: 'Guil. +Crashawe Eboracensis admissus socius Coll. Jo. pro Dña +Fundatrice, authoritate Regia, sede vacante Epi. Elien. +19 Jan. 1593.'<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Such is the 'entry' as given by Baker;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">xxv</a></span> +but in the original it is as follows: 'Gulielmus Chrashawe +Eboracensis admissus sum sisator pro Mr°. Alveye Maij 1°, +1591.' The Master and each senior Fellow chose sizars at +this date. Again: 'Ego Gulielmus Crashawe Eboracensis +admissus sum socius huius Collegij pro domina fundatrice, +Authoritate regia, sede vacante Episcopi Eliensis, 19° +Januarij 1593' [<i>i.e.</i> 1593-4]. The Bishop of Ely had the +right of nominating one Fellow.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> The See of Ely was +vacant from the death of Bishop Richard Cox, 22d July +1581, to the occupancy of Martin Heton in 1598-9. Hence +it came that the Queen presented Crashaw to the fellowship +of St. John's. (See Baker's St. John's, by Mayor +(vol. i. p. 438), for more details.) This was somewhat late. +How he obtained the patronage of Elizabeth does not +appear. The entry in 'White Vellum Book' of the College +Treasury runs simply, 'Being crediblie informed of the +povertie and yet otherwise good qualities and sufficiencie +of Wm. Crashaw, B.A.' &c. The opening paragraphs of his +Will characteristically recount his successive ecclesiastical +appointments and preferments, and hence will fittingly +come in here. 'In the name of the true and everlivinge +God, Amen. I William Crashawe, Bachelor in Divinitie, +Preacher of God's Worde. Firste at Bridlington, then at +Beverley in Yorkshire. Afterwards at the Temple; since +then Pastor of the Churche of Ag[nes] Burton, in the diocese +of Yorke; nowe Pastor of that too greate Parishe of +White-Chappell in the suburbs of London: the unworthye +and unprofitable servante of God, make and ordaine this +my last Will and Testament.' Previous to the death of +Elizabeth he had been '<i>deprived</i>' of a 'little vicarage' ('A +Discourse on Popish Corruptions requiring a Kingly Reformation:' +<span class="smcap">MS.</span> in Royal Library). Inquiries at Bridlington,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi">xxvi</a></span> +formerly Burlington, and the several places named, +have resulted in nothing, from the destruction of muniments, +&c. In the earlier he must have been 'Curate' +only. His many legacies of his 'owne workes,' which were +to 'lye' in many churches, have all perished, or at least +disappeared; and equally so his various 'monyes' for the +'poore.' It is sorrowful to find how so very often like +provisions are discovered to have gone out of sight, to +an aggregate few indeed suspect.</p> + +<p>With Agnes Burton he had closer relations, inasmuch +as one 'item' of his Will runs: 'The next avoydance of +Ag. Burton, taken in my brother's name (for which he +knoweth what hath byn offered), I give and bequeathe the +same to my said brother Thomas, to be by him disposed to +some worthy man.'</p> + +<p>He describes 'Mr. Henry Alvay,' 'the famous Puritan,' +as his 'ffather in Christ,' in bequeathing him 'one siluer +pott with a cover loose, parcell guilt, of about 13 ounces.'<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> +When, or from whom, he received 'orders' and ordination +does not appear, but what our Worthy became as a +Preacher his 'Sermons' remain to attest. They attest his +evangelical fervour even to passion, his intense convictions, +his wistful tenderness alternated with the most vehement +rebuke of fashionable sins and worldliness, his deep +personal love for the Lord Jesus, and a strangely pathetic +yearning for all men to be 'safe' in Him. He had a kind +of holy ubiquity of zeal in occupying pulpits where 'witness' +was to be borne 'for the Truth.' His motto, found +in a copy of Valerius Maximus, and elsewhere, was 'Servire +Deo regnare est' (Notes and Queries, 3d S. vii. 111). +America ought to prize his Sermon 'Preached in London +before the Right Honourable the Lord Lawarre, Lord +Governour and Captaine Generall of Virginia, and others +of his Maiestie's Counsell for that Kingdome, and the rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii">xxvii</a></span> +of the Adventurers in that Plantation. At the said Lord +Generall his leaue-taking of England, his natiue countrey, +and departure for Virginia, February 21, 1609. By +W. Crashaw, Bachelar of Divinitie, and Preacher at the +Temple. Wherein both the lawfulnesse of that Action is +maintained, and the necessity thereof is also demonstrated, +and so much out of the grounds of Policie, as of Humanity, +Equity and Christianity. Taken from his mouth, +and published by direction.' 1610. The running heading +is 'A New Yeere's Gift to Virginea.' The text is St. Luke +xxii. 32: 'I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: +and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.' +There is no nobler Sermon than this of the period; and +it is only one of various equally eloquent, impressive, and +powerful. Politically the Preacher saw far ahead, and +his patriotism is chivalrous as Sidney's. Dr. Donne later +preached for the same Virginia Company. He had 'sought' +to go as secretary in the outset.</p> + +<p>Our Worthy was twice married. Of his first wife—mother +of Richard, our 'sweet Singer'—I have failed utterly +to get so much as her name. Of his second wife +there remains a privately-printed tractate entitled 'The +Honovr of Vertve, or the Monument erected by the +sorowfull Husband, and the Epitaphes annexed by learned +and worthy men, to the immortall memory of that worthy +gentlewoman Mrs. Elizabeth Crashawe. Who dyed in +child-birth, and was buried in Whit-Chappell, October 8, +1620. In the 24 yeare of her age.' Of inconceivable interest +would this remarkable tractate have been, had this +been the Poet's mother; but the date shows that Hunter, +in his 'Chorus Vatum,' and others, are mistaken in their +statement that she was such. Richard Crashaw was born +in 1612-3, while the 'Epitaphes' and other allusions touchingly +inform us that this fatal 'child-birth' was, 'as she +most surely expected,' of her only child. The great Usher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxviii" id="Page_xxviii">xxviii</a></span> +preached her funeral-sermon, 'at which Sermon and Funerall +was present one of the greatest Assemblies that +ever was seene in man's memorie at the burial of any +priuate person.' The illustrious Preacher—who 'vseth,' +the Memorial says, 'to be very wary and modeste in commendation'—is +very full and articulate in his praises of +the dead. One bit we read with wet eyes; for among other +traits Usher praises 'her singular motherly affection <i>to the +child of her predecessor</i>—a rare vertue [as he noted] in +step-mothers at this day.'<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> One can scarcely avoid a sigh +that such a 'step-mother' was not spared to such a 'child.' +No 'quick' name is found to any of the Verse, nor is the +Verse intrinsically very memorable, except for its wealth +of sympathy towards the Widower.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">xxix</a></span></p><p>Of our Worthy's numerous Writings I have made out +a careful enumeration, inasmuch as the usual bibliographical +authorities (as Lowndes and Hazlitt) are exceedingly +empty; but I must utilise it elsewhere, seeing that such a +catalogue of (for the most part) violent invective against +Popery were incongruous in an edition of the Poetry of +his so opposite-minded son. These three out of our collection +will show that Popery was the supreme object +of his aversion; and even the full title-pages give but a +poor idea of the out-o'-way learning—for he was a scholar +among scholars—the grave wit, the sarcasm, the shrewd +sense, and, alas, the uncharity of these and kindred sermons +and books. The first is this, but from a later edition, +for a reason that will appear: 'Loyola's Disloyalty; or +the Iesvites' open Rebellion against God and His Church. +Whose Doctrine is Blasphemie, in the highest degree, +against the blood of Christ, which they Vilifie, and under-valew, +that they might uphold their Merits. By Consequent, +encouraging all Traytors to kill their lawfull Kings +and Princes. With divers other Principles and Heads of +their damnable and erronious Doctrine. Worthy to be +written and read in these our doubtfull and dangerous +times. 1643' (4to). This was originally issued as 'The +Iesvites' Gospell' (1610), and in 1621 and 1641 as 'The +Bespotted Jesuit.' Be it specially noted that Crashaw +himself must not be made responsible for the after title-pages.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> +Next is this: 'The Parable of Poyson. In Five<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxx" id="Page_xxx">xxx</a></span> +Sermons of Spirituall Poyson, &c. Wherein the poysonfull +Nature of Sinne, and the Spirituall Antidotes +against it, are plainely and brefely set downe. Begun before +the Prince his Highnesse. Proceeded in at Greye's +Inne and the Temple, and finished at St. Martin's in +the fields. By William Crashaw, Batcheler of Diuinity, +and Preacher of God's word. 1618' (4to). The Epistle-dedicatory +is dated from Agnes Burton, Yorkshire. +'The ioyfull 5 of Nouember, the day neuer to be forgotten.' +The third is this: 'The New Man, or a Svpplication +from an vnknowne Person, a Roman Catholike, +vnto Iames, the Monarch of Great Brittaine, and from +him to the Emperour, Kings, and Princes of the Christian +World. Touching the causes and reasons that will +argue a necessity of a Generall Councell to be fortwith +assembled against him that now vsurps the Papall Chaire +vnder the name of Paul the fifth. Wherein are discouered +more of the secret Iniquities of that Chaire and +Court, then hitherto their friends feared, or their very +aduersaries did suspect. Translated into English by William +Crashaw, Batchelour in Diuinity, according to the +Latine Copy, sent from Rome into England. 1622' +(4to). Other of these controversial tractates, or 'Flytings' +(Scoticè), are more commonly known, and need not detailed +notice from us. That the 'ruling passion' was +'strong' to the end, appears by the already repeatedly +named Will, the opening of which has been given, and +which thus continues: 'For my religion, I professe myself +in lief and deathe a Christian, and the crosse of Jesus +Christ is my glorye, and His sufferings my salvation. I +renounce and abhorre Atheisme, Iudaisme, Turcisme, and +all heresies against the Holy and Catholike faithe, oulde +and newe, and (namelye) Poperie, beinge as nowe it is +established by the canons of Trent and theyr present +allowed decrees and doctors, lyke a confused body of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxi" id="Page_xxxi">xxxi</a></span> +heresies.' And again: 'I accounte Poperie (as it nowe +is) the heape and chaos of all heresies, and the channell +whereunto the fowlest impieties and heresies that have +bene in the Christian worlde have runne and closelye +emptied themselves. I beleeve the Pope's seate and power +to be the power of the greate Antichrist, and the doctrine +of the Pope (as nowe it is) to be the doctrine of Antichrist; +yea, that doctrine of devills prophesied of by the +Apostles, and that the trve and absolute Papist, livinge +and dyeinge, debarres himself of salvation for oughte that +we knowe. And I beleve that I am bounde to separate +myself from that sinagogue of Rome if I wil be saved. +And I professe myselfe a member of the true Catholike +Churche, but not of the Roman Churche (as nowe it is), +and to looke for salvation, not by that faith nor doctrine +which that Churche nowe teacheth, but that which once +it had, but now falne from it.' And then follow 'groundes' +in burning and 'hard' words, intermingled with strange +outbursts of personal humiliation before God and an awful +sense of His scrutiny.</p> + +<p>These Title-pages and Will-extracts must suffice to +indicate the Ultra-Protestantism of the elder Crashaw. +To qualify them—in addition to our note of the intensified +after title-pages <i>by others</i>—it must be remembered +that the Armada of 1588 flung its scaring shadow across +his young days, and that undoubtedly the descendants of +Loyola falsified their venerable Founder's intentions by +political agitations and plottings. These coloured our +ecclesiastical polemique's whole ways of looking at things. +His Will and codicil are dated in 1621-2, and during these +years and succeeding, his most fiery and intense 'Sermons' +and tractates were being published. Richard was then +growing up into his teens, and without his 'second' mother. +As Crashaw senior died in 1626—his Will having +been 'proved' 16th October in that year—our Poet-saint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxii" id="Page_xxxii">xxxii</a></span> +was only about 13-14 when he lost his father, scarcely ten +when appointed by him executor, the words being: 'I ordaine +and make Mr. Robert Dixon and <i>my sonne Richarde</i> +executors of my Will' (10th June 1622).<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p> + +<p>His Epistles-dedicatory and private Letters (several of +which are preserved in the British Museum, and of which +I have copies—one very long to Sir Julius Cæsar on his +brother's illness) and his Will, make it plain that our +Worthy mingled in the highest society, and was consulted +in the most delicate affairs. His dedication of one of his +most pronounced books, 'Consilium quorundam Episcop. +Bononiæ &c.' (1613), to Shakespeare's Earl of Southampton, +<i>as to a trusted friend</i>, settles, to my mind, the (disputed) +fact as to the Earl having become a Protestant. So too +the translation of Augustine's 'City of God' (1620, 2d +edition) is dedicated to William Earl of Pembroke, the +Earl of Arundel, and the Earl of Montgomery.</p> + +<p>The last matter to be touched on is the Verse of the +paternal Crashaw, which has a unique character of its +own. It consists of translations from the Latin. His +'Loyola's Disloyalty' is based on a rendering of a Latin +poem in super-exaltation of the Virgin Mary by Clarus +Bonarscius ( = Carolus Scribanius); and Crashaw animadverts +on such 'pointes' as these: 'That the milke of Mary +may come into comparison with the blood of Christ;' +'that the Christian man's faith may lawfully take hold +of both as well as one;' 'that the best compound for a +sicke soule is to mix together her milke and Christ's blood;'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiii" id="Page_xxxiii">xxxiii</a></span> +'that Christ is still a little child in His mother's armes, +and so may be prayed unto;' 'that a man shall often-times +be sooner heard at God's hand in the mediation of +Mary than Jesus Christ;' and so on. I give the opening, +middle, and closing lines.</p> + + +<h3>TO OUR LADY OF HALL AND THE CHILD JESUS.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'My thoughts are at a stand, of milke and blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Delights of brest and side, which yeelds most good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And say, when on the teates mine eyes I cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Lady, of thy brest I beg a taste.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if mine eyes upon the wounds doe glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then, Jesu, I had rather sucke Thy side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long have I mused, now knowe I where to rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For with my right hand I will graspe the brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If so I may presume: as for the wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With left He catch them; thus my zeale abounds.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Mother and Son, give eare to what I crave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I beg this milke, that bloud, and both would have.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youngling, that in Thy mother's armes art playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sucking her brest sometimes, and sometimes staying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost Thou view me with that looke of scorne?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis forceless envie that 'gainst Thee is borne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft hast Thou said, being angry at my sinne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Darest thou desire the teates My food lyes in?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not, oh I dare not, golden Child;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My mind from feare is not so farre exild:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one, even one poore drop I doe implore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Thy right hand or side, I ask no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If neither, from Thy left hand let one fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nay from Thy foot, rather than none at all:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I displease Thee, let Thy wounds me wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But pay my wage if I in grace be found.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Finally:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'But ah, I thirst; ah, droght my breath doth smother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quench me with blood, sweet Son; with milk, good mother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say to Thy mother, See My brother's thirst;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mother, your milke will ease him at the first.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiv" id="Page_xxxiv">xxxiv</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say to thy Son, Behold Thy brother's bands;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet Son, Thou hast his ransome in Thy hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shew Thy redeeming power to soules opprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou Sonne, if that Thy blood excel the rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shew Thyselfe justly so stilde indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou mother, if thy brests the rest exceed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, when shall I with these be satisfi'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When shall I swimme in joyes of brest and side?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pardon, O God, mine eager earnestnesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If I Thy lawes and reason's bounds transgresse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thirst o're-swayes, patience is thrust away:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stay but my thirst, and then my cryes will stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am better then Thy nailes; yet did a streame<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Thy deere bloud wash both the lance and them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More worthy I then clouts; yet them a flood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moistened of mother's milke and of Son's blood.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Rhythm, epithet, and the whole ring of these Verses +remind us of the younger Crashaw. But the most remarkable +Verse-production of the elder Crashaw is his translation +of the 'Querela, sive Dialogvs Animæ et Corporis +damnati,' ascribed to St. Bernard. It originally appeared +in 1616, and has been repeatedly reprinted since. Those +of 1622 and 1632 are now before me, and the English title-page +runs: 'The Complaint, or Dialogve betwixt the +Soule and the Bodie of a damned man. Each laying the +fault vpon the other. Supposed to be written by S. Bernard, +from a nightly vision of his; and now published out +of an ancient manuscript copie. By William Crashaw.' +The Dialogue thus opens:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'In silence of a Winter's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sleeping yet a walking spirit;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A livelesse body to my sight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Methought appeared, thus addight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In that my sleepe I did descry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Soule departed but lately<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From that foule body which lay by;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wailing with sighes, and loud did cry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxv" id="Page_xxxv">xxxv</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fast by the body, thus she mones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And questions it, with sighes and grones;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O wretched flesh, thus low who makes thee lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom yesterday the world had seene so high?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was't not but yesterday the world was thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the countrey stood at thy devotion?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy traine that followed thee when thy sunne did shine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have now forsaken thee: O dolefull alteration!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those turrets gay of costly masonry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And larger palaces, are not now thy roome;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in a coffin of small quantity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou lyest interrèd in a little tombe.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wretched flesh, with me that art forlorne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou couldst know how sharpe our punishment;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How justly mightest thou wish not to be borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or from the wombe to tombe to have been hent!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How lik'st thou now, poor foole, thy latter lodging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roofe whereof lyes even with thy nose?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy eyes are shut, thy tongue cannot be cogging;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nothing of profit rests at thy dispose.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy garments, wretched fool, are farre from rich;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy upper garment hardly worth a scute;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A little linnen shrouds thee in thy ditch,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No rents nor gifts men bring, nor make their suite.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again, st. 79-81:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'If I be clad in rich array,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And well attended every day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both wise and good I shal be thoght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My kinred also shall be sought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am, say men, the case is cleere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your cosen, sir, a kinsman neere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if the world doe change and frowne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our kinred is no longer knowne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor I remembred any more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By them that honoured me before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvi" id="Page_xxxvi">xxxvi</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O vanity! vile love of mucke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foule poyson, wherefore hast thou stucke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thyselfe so deepe, to raise so high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Things vanishing so suddenly?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In a 'Manvall for true Catholicks, or a Handfvll, or +rather a Heartfull of holy Meditations and Prayers, gathered +out of certaine ancient Manuscripts, written 300 +yeeres agoe, or more,' which is usually bound up with +the 'Querela,' there is no little striking thought and word-painting, +combined with a parsimony of epithet, and a +naked and yet imaginative echo of the monkish Latin, +singularly impressive. Passing the 'Orthodoxall Confessions +of God the Father' and 'Sonne' and 'Holy Ghost,' +though all have many memorable things—I would close +our specimens with one complete poem from the 'Manvall.' +It is entitled 'The Conclusion, with a devout and holy +prayer;' the word 'prayer' reminding us that in his Prayers +herein and in his 'Milke for Babes' (1618, and several +later), Crashaw is lowly and devout, and simply a sinner +holding the Christian's hope. The remark applies also to +much of his celebration of 'Carraciolo,' the Italian convert +and 'Second Moses' (1608).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'This is Christian faith unfainèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Orthodoxall, true, unstainèd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I teach, all understand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yeelding unto neither hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in this my soule's defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reiect me not for mine offence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fly in death to seek salvation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have no meane Thy love to gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this faith which I maintaine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Thou seest, nor will I cease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this to beg for a release.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let this sacred salve be bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon my sores, to make them sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though man be carried forth, and lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his grave, and putrifying:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvii" id="Page_xxxvii">xxxvii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound and hid from mortall eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet if Thou bid, he must arise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Thy will the grave will open,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Thy will his bonds are broken.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forth he comes without delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Thou but once bid, Come away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this sea of dread and doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My poore barke is tost about;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With storms and pirats far and wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death and woes on every side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calme these winds that me molest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show me some safe residence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the boughs are witherèd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Downe it must, and to the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If desert have his due hire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spare it, Lord, another yeare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With manuring it [yet] may beare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it then be dead and dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burne it; alas, what remedy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine old foe assaults me sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fire and water, more and more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poore I, of all my strength bereft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onely unto Thee am left.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That my foe may hence be chasèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I from Ruin's clawes releasèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, vouchsafe me every day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strength to fast, and faith to pray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These two meanes Thyself hast taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bring temptation's force to noght.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, free my soule from sin's infection<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By repentance's direction.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be Thy feare in me abiding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soule to true salvation guiding.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Zeale of heaven and things above.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teach mee prize the world at nought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Thy blisse be all my thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxviii" id="Page_xxxviii">xxxviii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All my hopes on Thee I found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Whom all good things abound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art all my dignitie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All I have I have from Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art my comfort in distresse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art my cure in heavinesse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art my music in my sadnes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art my medicine in my madnesse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou my freedom from my thral,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou my raiser from my fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my labour Thou reliev'st me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou reform'st whatever grieves me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from hurt my soul defendeth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou my deepest doubts revealest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou my secret faults concealest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O do Thou stay my feet from treading<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In paths to hel and horror leading,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where eternal torment dwels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fears and tears and lothsome smels;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where man's deepest shame is sounded,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the guilty still confounded;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the scourge for ever beateth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the worme that alwaies eateth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all those endless do remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, preserve us from this paine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Sion lodge me, Lord, for pitty—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sion, David's kingly citty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Built by Him that's onely good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose gates be of the Crosse's wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose keys are Christ's undoubted word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose dwellers feare none but the Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose wals are stone, strong, quicke and bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose Keeper is the Lord of Light:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the light doth never cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endlesse Spring and endles peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is musicke, heaven filling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetnesse evermore distilling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is neither spot nor taint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No defect, nor no complaint;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxix" id="Page_xxxix">xxxix</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man crookèd, great nor small,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to Christ conformèd all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blessed towne, divinely gracèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a rocke so strongly placèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee I see, and thee I long for;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee I seek, and thee I grone for.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what ioy thy dwellers tast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in pleasure first and last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What full enioying blisse divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What iewels on thy wals do shine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruby, iacinth, chalcedon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowne to them within alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this glorious company,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the streets of Sion, I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Iob, Moses, and Eliah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will sing the heauenly Alleviah. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Surely this is a very noteworthy transfusion of old Latin +pieties into vivid English. 'Visions' of Jerusalem the +Golden transfigure even the austere words towards the +close. One can picture Master Richard's eyes kindling +over his Father's verses when he was gone.</p> + +<p>So endeth what I have thought it needful to tell of the +elder Crashaw. As hitherto almost nothing has been told +of him, even our compressed little Memorial—keeping +back many things and notices that have gathered in our +note-books—may be welcome to some. I pass now to</p> + + +<h3><a name="II_A_Study_of_the_Life_and_Poetry_of_Richard_Crashaw" id="II_A_Study_of_the_Life_and_Poetry_of_Richard_Crashaw"></a>II. <span class="smcap">A Study of the Life and Poetry of Richard +Crashaw.</span></h3> + +<p>The outward facts of our 'sweet Singer's' story are +given with comparative fulness in our Memorial-Introduction +(vol. i. pp. xxvii.-xxxviii.). In the present brief +Essay we wish to look into some of these, so as to arrive +at a true estimate of them and of the Poetry, now fully +(and for the first time) collected.</p> + +<p>I think I shall be able to say what has struck myself +as worth saying about Crashaw, under these three things:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xl" id="Page_xl">xl</a></span></p> + +<p class="pindent">I. His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, +using the terms as historic words, not polemically.</p> + +<p class="pindent">II. His friends and associates, as celebrated in his +Writings.</p> + +<p class="pindent">III. His characteristics and place as a Poet. These +successively.</p> + +<p>I. <i>His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism.</i> +From our Memoir of his Father it will be apparent +to all that <i>he</i> was a Protestant of Protestants; and it is +an inevitable assumption that his son from infancy would +be indoctrinated with all vigilance and fervour in the paternal +creed, which may be designated Puritan, as opposed +to Laudian High-Churchism within the Church of England.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> +I think we shall not err either, in concluding that +the younger Crashaw had a very impressionable and plastic +nature; so that the strong and self-assertive character +of his Father could not fail to mould his earliest +thinking, opinions, beliefs, and emotion. Still it will not +do to pronounce our Poet's change to have been a revolt +and rebound from the narrowness of the paternal teaching +and writing, seeing that his Father died in 1626, when he +was only passing into his 13-14th year.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> It is palpable that +the elder Crashaw was spared the distress of the apostacy +(as he should most trenchantly have named it) of his only +son. Moreover, the very notable poems from the Tanner +<span class="smcap">mss.</span> on the <i>Gunpowder Treason</i> (vol. i. pp. 188-194) are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xli" id="Page_xli">xli</a></span> +pronounced and intense in their denunciations of (to +quote from them) that 'vnmated malice,' that 'vnpeer'd +despight' and 'very quintessence of villanie,' for 'singing' +of which he feels he must have not 'inke' but 'the blood +of Cerberus, or Alecto's viperous brood,' and demonstrate +that he carried with him to, and kept in, Cambridge all +his father's wrath, and more than even his father's vocabulary +of vituperation, with too his own after-epithets, +instinct with poetic feeling, as a thoughtful reading reveals. +These poems belong to 1631-3. Even in the Latin +Epigrams of 1634 there is (to say the least) a 'slighting' +allusion to the Pope in the 'Umbra S. Petri,' being +'Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus' (see Epigram +xix. p. 47). That volume, also, is dedicated in the +most glowing words of affection and indebtedness to +Dr. Benjamin Lany (vol. ii. pp. 7-15), afterwards, as we +shall find onward, a distinguished bishop in the Church +of England. And he was a man after the elder Crashaw's +own heart, as we shall now have revealed in a little overlooked +poem addressed to Crashaw senior, which is appended +to the 'Manvall for True Catholicks' (as before). +Here it is; and let the Reader ponder its anti-papal sentiment:</p> + + +<p class="center">A CONCLUSION TO THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tradition and antiquitie, the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whereon that erring Church doth so relye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The novel doctrine of their heresie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which plaine by these most sensible degrees<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where each observing iudgement plainely sees,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From good to bad, from bad to worst of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blinde this truth; to no step any higher<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By any policie it can essay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlii" id="Page_xlii">xlii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And meditations of most pious use,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Free from impiety, or least abuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blot out all merit in ourselves we have,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offer not prayers for those are in the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To passe among the good things of this Age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet are in this respect of more regard,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since God would have them to these times appeare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many having perisht; and be heard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.<span class="source">B.L.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>There is some obscurity in these Donne- or Ben-Jonson-like +rugged lines, but none as to the opinions of their +writer on Popery. Thus up to 1634 at least, or until +his twenty-second or twenty-third year, Crashaw the +younger was as thoroughly Protestant, in all probability, +as his father could have desired. The '<i>change</i>' accordingly +was a radical one when he left his mother-Church, +and one laments that our light is so dim and our view +so distant. Anthony a-Wood (as before) and the usual +authorities state that our Crashaw became famous as a +preacher: he became, says Willmott, 'a preacher of great +energy and power,' <i>id est</i>, in England, and therefore +while still belonging to the Church of England. I have +an impression that somehow the son has been confounded +with the father, whose renown as a preacher was lasting; +just as it seems certain that son and father have been +confounded by the continuous editors of Selden's 'Table-Talk,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xliii" id="Page_xliii">xliii</a></span> +wherein the illustrious Thinker recounts somewhat +proudly that he had converted Crashaw from his opposition +to stage-plays. We may as well expiscate this point +here. The younger Crashaw, then, never expressed himself, +so far as is known, against stage-plays: contrari-wise, +in his fine Epigram on Ford's 'Love's Sacrifice' and +'Broken Heart' he is in sympathy with these 'stage-plays.' +On the other hand, in one of his most impassioned +sermons, his father had, with characteristic pungency, +condemned 'Plaies and Players'—as given below.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xliv" id="Page_xliv">xliv</a></span><a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> +To return: be this as it may in the matter of 'preaching,' +the matter-of-fact is, that our Crashaw retained his +Fellowship up to his ejection on the 11th of June 1644 +(vol. i. pp. xxxiii.-iv.), or when he was in his 32d-33d +year; or, as gentle Father Southwell gently put it, about +his 'dear Lord's' age. We get a glimpse of his religious +life while a Protestant, in the original 'Preface to +the Reader' of 'Steps to the Temple,' &c. as follows: +'Reader, we stile his Sacred Poems, Steps to the Temple, +and aptly; for in the Temple of God, under His wing, he +led his life, in St. Marie's Church neere St. Peter's Colledge: +there he lodged under Tertullian's roofe of angels; +there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow +neere the house of God, where, like a primitive saint, he +offered more prayers in the night than others usually +offer in the day; there he penned these poems, <span class="smcap">Steps</span> for +happy soules to climbe heaven by' (vol. i. p. xlvii.). Coinciding +with this is the love he had for the writings of +'Sainte Teresa,' when (in his own words) 'the Author'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlv" id="Page_xlv">xlv</a></span> +of 'A Hymn to the Name and Honor of the admirable +Sainte Teresa' was 'yet among the Protestants.' In his +'Apologie for the foregoing Hymn'—than which, for +subtle, delicate, fin<i>est</i> mysticism, in words that are not +so much words as music, and yet definite words too, +changing with the quick bright changes of a dove's neck, +there is hardly anything truer—the Poet traces up his +devotion to her to his 'reading' of her books; as thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thus haue I back again to thy bright name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair floud of holy fires! transfus'd the flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I took from reading thee....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">... O pardon, if I dare to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine own dear bookes are guilty.' (vol. i. p. 150.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The words of the Preface (as above) remind us also that +Crashaw took his part in the Fasts and Vigils and austerities +of the Ferrars and the saintly, if ascetic, 'Little +Gidding' group.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> Going back on the 'Hymn,' such lines as +these show how even then the Poet had drunk-in the very +passion of Teresa: <i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Loue toucht her heart, and, lo, it beates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High, and burnes with such braue heates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A thousand cold deathes in one cup</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good reason: for she breathes all fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her white breast heaues with strong desire.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">. . . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet, not so fast! lo, thy fair Spouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls thee back, and bidds thee come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T'embrace a milder martyrdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blest powres forbid thy tender life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlvi" id="Page_xlvi">xlvi</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or some base hand have power to raze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul kept there so sweet: O no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise Heaun will neuer haue it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art Love's victime, and must dy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A death more mystical and high:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A still-suruiuing funerall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His is the dart must make the death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dart thrice dipt in that rich flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shines; and with a soueraign ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beates bright vpon the burning faces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find everlasting smiles. . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how oft shalt thou complain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a sweet and subtle pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of intolerable ioyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a death, in which who dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loues his death, and dyes again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would for ever so be slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And liues and dyes; and knowes not why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is deeply significant to find such a Hymn as +that written while 'yet among the Protestants.' Putting +the two things together—(<i>a</i>) his recluse, shy, meditative +life 'under Tertullian's roofe of angels,' and his prayers +<span class="smcap">THERE</span> in the night; (<i>b</i>) his passionately sympathetic reading, +as of Teresa, and going forth of his most spiritual +yearnings after the 'sweet and subtle pain,' and Love's +death 'mystical and high'—we get at the secret of the +'change' now being considered. However led to it, Crashaw's +reading lay among books that were as fuel to fire +brought to a naturally mystical and supersensitive temperament; +and however formed and nurtured, such self-evidently +was his temperament. His innate mysticism<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlvii" id="Page_xlvii">xlvii</a></span> +drew him to such literature, and the literature fed what +perchance demanded rather to be neutralised.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> I feel +satisfied one main element of the attraction of Roman +Catholicism for him was the nutriment and nurture for +his profoundest though most perilous spiritual experiences +in its Writers. His great-brained, strong-thewed father +would have dismissed such 'intolerable ioyes' as morbid +sentimentalism; but the nervous, finely and highly-strung +organisation of his son was as an Æolian harp under their +touch. To all this must be added certain local influences, +and ultimately the crash of the Ejection. The history +of the University during the period of Crashaw's residence +makes it plain that there was then, as later, a revival +of what may be technically called Ritualism—as an intended +help-meet to Faith—and that by some of the most +cultured and gracious scholars of the Colleges. I am not +vindicating, much less judging such, any more than would +I 'sit in judgment' on the Ritualist revival of our own +day, <i>i.e.</i> of its adherents. For myself, I find it a diviner +and grander thing to 'walk by faith' rather than by 'sight,' +and not 'bodied' but 'disembodied truth' the more spiritual. +But to not a few—and to such as Crashaw—the +sensible, the visible, the actually looked-at—sanctified +with the hoar of centuries—light up and etherealise. Contemporary +records show that the chapel of Peterhouse—Crashaw's +college—which was built in 1632, and consecrated +by Francis White, Bishop of Ely, was a 'handsome' +one, having a beautiful ceiling and a noble east window—its +glass 'hid away in the troublesome times.' Among +the benefactors to its building were (afterwards bishops) +Cosin and Wren, and also Shelford, whose 'Five learned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlviii" id="Page_xlviii">xlviii</a></span> +Discourses' were graced with a noticeable 'commendatory +poem' by Crashaw (vol. ii. pp. 162-5). Before this +chapel was built the society made use of the chancel of +the adjacent church of Little St. Mary's, into which there +was a door from Peterhouse College. The reader may at +this point turn to our poet's heart-broken 'pleadings' +for the 'restoration' of his College, now made 'to speak +English.' On all which, and the like, dear old Fuller, +in his History of the University, thus speaks, under a +somewhat later date (1642), but <i>the</i> very turning-period +with Crashaw: 'Now began the University to be much +beautified in buildings; every college, after casting its +skin with the snake, or renewing its bill with the eagle, +having their courts, or at least their fronts and gatehouse, +repaired and adorned. But the greatest attention was in +their chapels, most of them being graced with the accession +of organs,' &c.</p> + +<p>Contemporary records farther lead us to Peterhouse +and Pembroke Colleges as specially 'visited' and 'spoiled' +in the Commission from the Parliament in 1643 to remove +crosses. We may read one 'report' out of many. 'Mr. +Horscot: We went to Peterhouse, 1643, Dec. 21, with officers +and soldiers, and [in] the presence [of] Mr. Wilson, +of the president Mr. Francis, Mr. Maxy and other Fellows, +Dec. 20 and 23, we pulled down two mighty great angells +with wings, and divers other angells and the four Evangelists +and Peter with his keies, over the Chappell Dore, +and about a hundred cherubims and angells and divers +superstitious letters in gold; and at the upper end of the +chancel these words were written as followeth: "Hic locus +est Domini Dei, nil aliud et Porta cœli." Witness, Will. +Dowsing, Geo. Long.' Farther: 'These words were +written at Keie's Coll. and not at Peterhouse, but about +the walls were written in Latin, "We prays thee ever;" +and on some of the images was written "Sanctus, Sanctus,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlix" id="Page_xlix">xlix</a></span> +Sanctus;" or other, "Gloria Dei et Gloria Patri," and +"Non nobis Domine;" and six angells in the windowes.' +So at Pembroke, 'We brake and pulled down 80 superstitious +pictures;' and so at Little St. Mary's, 'We brake +down 60 superstitious pictures, some Popes and crucifixes +and God the Father sitting in a chayer and holding a +glass in his hand.' Looking on the since famous names +of Peterhouse and Pembroke (Spenser's college)—Cosin, +Wren, Shelford, Tournaye, Andrewes—they at once suggest +ritualistic, if not Roman Catholic, proclivities.</p> + +<p>Thus from all sides came potent influences of personal +friendship—of his friends and associates more onward—to +give impulse and <i>momentum</i> to Crashaw's mystical Roman-Catholic +sympathies. The 'Ejection' of 1644 found +Crashaw in the very heart of these influences, not swayed +simply, but mastered by them. To one so secluded and +unworldly, a crisis in which the pillars of the throne were +shattered, and in which not the many for the one, but +the one rather than the many, must be sacrificed, was +a dazing bewilderment, and terror, and agony. All was +chaos and weltering confusion; no resting-place in England +for his dove-feet: dissonance, blasphemy as he weened, +came to his shuddering heart: he saw the lifting-up of anchors +never before lifted, and the Church drifting, drifting +away aimlessly and helplessly (as he misjudged). Moses-like, +he looked this way and that way, and saw no man—saw +not The Man—and failed, I fear, to look UP, because +of his very agony of looking down and in. And so, in +his tremor and sorrow and weariness, he passed over to +Roman Catholicism as the 'ideal' of his reading, and as the +'home' of the sainted ones whose words were as manna to +his spirit. Not a strong, defiant, masterful soul, by any +means—frail, timorous, shrinking, rather—he would 'fly +away,' even if out to the wilderness, to be 'at rest.' The +very 'inner life' of God was in his soft gentle heart, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_l" id="Page_l">l</a></span> +that he carried with him through after-years, as Cowley +bore brave witness by his magnanimous title of 'Saint.' +Conscience too—ill-instructed possibly, yet true to its light, +if true also to feelings that ought to have been wrestled +with, not succumbed to—went with him: and what of +God's grace is in a man keeps him, wherever ecclesiastically +he may abide.</p> + +<p>Such is our solution of the 'change' of Crashaw from +Protestantism to Catholicism. It is sheer fanaticism to +rave against the 'change,' and to burrow for ignoble +motives. Gross ignorance of the facts of the period is +betrayed by any one who harshly 'judges' that the +humble 'ejected Fellow' made a worldly 'gain' by his +'change.' Nay verily, it was no 'gain,' in that paltry +sense, for an Englishman then to become a Roman Catholic. +It was to invite obloquy, misconstruction, 'evil-speaking.' +In Crashaw's case he had wealthy uncles and +aunts, and other relatives, who should have amply provided +for him, and 'sheltered' him through the 'troublous +times.' Prynne's 'Legenda Lignea, with an Answer to +Mr. Birchley's Moderator (pleading for a Toleration of +Popery) and a Character of some hopeful saints revolted +to the Church of Rome' (1653), is brutal as it is inaccurate; +but it must be adduced as an example of what 'Revolters' +(so called) had to endure, albeit Crashaw was gone +into the silences whither no clamour reaches, when the +bitter book came forth. 'Master Richard Crashaw (son +to the London divine, and sometime Fellow of St. Peterhouse +in Cambridge) is another slip of the times that is +transplanted to Rome. This peavish sillie seeker glided +away from his principles in a poetical vein of fancy and +impertinent curiosity, and finding that verses and measured +flattery took and much pleased some female wits, +Crashaw crept by degrees into favour and acquaintance +with some court ladies, and with the gross commendations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_li" id="Page_li">li</a></span> +of their parts and beauties (burnished and varnished with +some other agreeable adulations) he got first the estimation +of an innocent, harmless convert; and a purse being +made by some deluded, vain-glorious ladies and their +friends, the poet was despatched on a pilgrimage to Rome, +where, if he had found in the see Pope Urban the Eighth +instead of Pope Innocent, he might possibly have received +a greater quantity and a better number of benedictions; +for Urban was as much a pretender to be prince and +œcumenical patron of poets as head of the Church; but +Innocent being more harsh and dry, the poor small poet +Crashaw met with none of the generation and kindred of +Mecænas, nor any great blessing from his Holiness; which +misfortune puts the pitiful wier-drawer to a humour of +admiring his own raptures; and in this fancy (like Narcissus) +he is fallen in love with his own shadow, conversing +with himself in verse, and admiring the birth of his +own brains; he is only laughed at, or at most but pitied, +by his few patrons, who, conceiving him unworthy of any +preferment in their Church, have given him leave to live +(like a lean swine almost ready to starve) in a poor mendicant +quality; and that favour is granted only because +Crashaw can rail as satirically and bitterly at true religion +in verse as others of his grain and complexion can in prose +and loose discourses: this fickle shuttlecock, so tost with +every changeable puff and blast, is rather to be laughed +at and scorned for his ridiculous levity than imitated in +his sinful and notorious apostacy and revolt' (cxxxviii.).</p> + +<p>The short and crushing answer to all this Billingsgate +is: The poems of Crashaw are now fully before the reader, +and he will not find, from the first page to the last, +one line answering to Prynne's jaundiced representations: +'flatteries,' 'adulations,' 'railings,' you look for in vain. +The wistfulness of persuasion of the Verse-Letter to the +Countess of Denbigh would have been trampled on as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lii" id="Page_lii">lii</a></span> +blind man or a boor tramples on a bed of pansies, by the +grim lawyer-Puritan. Then, the very lowliness and (alleged) +mendicancy of his post in the Church of Rome +might have suggested a grain of charity, seeing that +worldly advancement could not be motive to an all-but +friendless scholar. As to the 'birth of his own brains,' +and 'conversing with himself in verse,' would that we had +more such 'births' and 'conversings'! Other accusations +are malignant gossip, where they are not nonsense. Far +different is the spirit of Dr. John Bargrave; whose MS. has +at last been worthily edited and published for the Camden +Society.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> His notice of Crashaw at Rome is as follows: +'When I went first of my four times to Rome, there were +there four revolters to the Roman Church that had been +Fellows of Peterhouse in Cambridge with myself. The +name of one of them was Mr. R. Crashaw, who was one +of the <i>Seguita</i> (as their term is): that is, an attendant or +of the followers of this Cardinal, for which he had a +salary of crowns by the month (as the custom is), but no +diet. Mr. Crashaw infinitely commended his Cardinal, but +complained extremely of the wickedness of those of his +retinue; of which he, having the Cardinal's ear, complained +to him. Upon which the Italians fell so far out +with him that the Cardinal, to secure his life, was fain +to put him from his service, and procuring him some small +employ at the Lady's of Loretto; whither he went +on pilgrimage in summer time, and, overheating himself, +died in four weeks after he came thither, and it was +doubtful whether he was not poisoned' (p. 37). That brings +before us a true, white-souled Man 'of God,' resolute to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_liii" id="Page_liii">liii</a></span> +'speak out,' whoever sinned in his sight; and it is blind +sectarianism to deny that, from the noble and holy Loyola +to our own Faber and Spencer and the living Newman, +the Church of Rome has never been without dauntless +preachers of the very righteousness of God, or unhesitant +rebukers of the wickedness, immoralities, and frivolities of +their co-religionists. The suspicion of 'poyson' I am +unwilling to accept. Onward I shall give our recovered +record of his death. Summarily, then, the 'change' +of Crashaw from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism +had its root and carries its solution in his 'mystical' +dreamy temperament and yearnings, as these were over-encouraged +instead of controlled; and as formative influences +there were—(<i>a</i>) his reading in Teresa and kindred +literature, until not 'hands,' but brain and heart, imagination +and fancy, grew into the elements wherein they +wrought—as one finds sprays of once-green moss and +delicate-carven ferns changed by the dripping limestone +into limestone: (<i>b</i>) the ritualistic revival being in the +hands of those most loved and trusted, and from whom +he fetched whatever of spiritual life and peace and joy +and hope was in him—these too being of stronger will, +and decisive in opinion and action—his vague 'feeling-after' +rest was centred in the Rest of ideal Roman Catholicism: +(<i>c</i>) the confusions and strifes of the transition-period +of the Commonwealth terrified and wounded him; +he mistook the crash of falling scaffolding, whose end +was served, for the falling of the everlasting skies; saw not +their serene shining beyond the passing clouds, lightning-charged +for divine clarifying; and a 'quiet retreat,' which +Imagination beckoned him to, won him to 'hide' there +his weeping and dismay. Nothing sordid or expedient, or +facing-both-ways, or unworthy, moved him to 'change.' +Every one who has self-respect based on self-knowledge, +and who thus has experienced the mystery of his deepest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_liv" id="Page_liv">liv</a></span> +beliefs, will make all gentlest allowances, hold all tenderest +sympathies with him, and feel the coarse abuse of Prynne +and later as a personal wrong. Richard Crashaw was +a true 'man of God,' and acted, I believe, in sensitive +allegiance to his conscience as it spake to him. 'Change,' +even fundamental change, in such a man is to be accepted +without reserve as 'honest' and righteous and God-fearing. +He dared not sign the 'Solemn League and Covenant,' +however 'solemn' it might be to others; and so he +went out.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> I pass to—</p> + +<p>II. <i>His friends and associates, as celebrated in his writings.</i> +I use the word 'Writings' here rather than 'Poems,' +because in his Epistles, <i>e.g.</i> to the 'Epigrammata' and +those printed by us for the first time, as well as in his +Poetry, names are found over which one pauses instinctively. +Commencing with his school-days at the Charterhouse, +there is Robert Brooke, 'Master' ('Preceptor') from +1628 to 1643.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> Very little has come down to us concerning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lv" id="Page_lv">lv</a></span> +him, and the present head of the renowned School has +been unable to add to Alexander Chalmers' testimony, +'A very celebrated Master.' All the more have I pleasure +in inviting attention to the new 'Epistola' and related +poems addressed to him, and which must be studied along +with the previous poem, 'Ornatissimo viro præceptori suo +colendissimo, Magistro Brook' (vol. ii. pp. 319); and perhaps +the humorous and genial serio-comic celebration of +'Priscianus' grew from some school-incident (vol. ii. pp. +308, 315) having in the latter year, like Crashaw, been +'ejected' from the Charterhouse for not taking the 'Solemn +League and Covenant.' He had been usher from 1626 to +1628. An apartment in the building is still called from +him Brooke Hall ('Chronicles,' pp. 129, 159).</p> + +<p>The next prominent name is that of Benjamin Lany—sometimes +Laney, as in Masson's Milton (i. 97)—afterwards +successively Bishop of Peterborough and Lincoln and Ely. +We have already noted his marked Protestantism in the +verse-eulogy of the elder Crashaw, so that probably it was +as his father's son, Lany, then Master of Pembroke, received +our Worthy there. Lany was of the 'ejected' in 1644. +The present Bishop of Ely, with all willingness to help us, +found no <span class="smcap">mss.</span> or biographic materials in his custody. +When may we hope each bishopric will find a qualified +historian-biographer? A portrait of Lany is in the Master's +Lodge at the Charterhouse ('Chronicles,' 1847, p. 140).</p> + +<p>Crashaw's tutor at Pembroke was 'Master Tournay,' +to whose praise and friendship he dedicates a Latin poem +(vol. ii. pp. 371 et sqq.). Dr. Ward, Master of Sidney College, +writes to Archbishop Usher thus of him: 'We have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lvi" id="Page_lvi">lvi</a></span> +had some doings here of late about one of Pembroke Hall, +who, preaching in St. Mary's, about the beginning of Lent, +upon that text, James ii. 22, seemed to avouch the insufficiency +of faith to justification, and to impugn the doctrine +of our 11th Article, of Justification by faith only; +for which he was convented by the Vice-Chancellor, who +was willing to accept of an easy acknowledgment; but +the same party preaching his Latin sermon, <i>pro Gradu</i>, +the last week, upon Rom. iii. 28, he said he came not +<i>palinodiam canere, sed eandem cantilenam canere</i>; which +moved our Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Love, to call for his sermon, +which he refused to deliver. Whereupon, upon Wednesday +last, being Barnaby Day, the day appointed for +the admission of the Bachelors of Divinity, which must +answer <i>Die Comitiorum</i>, he was stayed by the major part +of the suffrages of the Doctors of the faculty.... The +truth is, there are some Heads among us that are great +abettors of M. Tournay, the party above mentioned, who, +no doubt, are backed by others' (June 14, 1643. Life of +Parr, p. 470: Willmott, 1st series, pp. 302-3). In relation +to Tournay's heresy on 'Justification,' it is profoundly +interesting, biographically, to remember Crashaw's most +striking Latin poems—so carelessly overlooked, if not +impudently suppressed, by Turnbull—first published by +Crashaw in the volume of 1648, viz. 'Fides, quæ sola justificat, +non est sine spe et dilectione,' and 'Baptismus non +tollit futura peccata.' The student will do well to turn to +these two poems in their places (vol. ii. pp. 209, 216).<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p> + +<p>Robert Shelford, 'of Ringsfield in Suffolk, Priest,' was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lvii" id="Page_lvii">lvii</a></span> +another '<i>suspect</i>:' as in Huntley's [ = Prynne] <i>Breviate</i> (3d +ed. 1637, p. 308) we read, 'Master Shelford hath of late +affirmed in print, that the Pope was never yet defined to be +the Antichrist by any Synods.' More vehemently writes +Usher to Dr. Ward (Sept. 15, 1635): 'But while we strive +here to maintain the purity of our ancient truth, how +cometh it to pass that you at Cambridge do cast such stumbling-blocks +in our way, by publishing unto the world such +rotten stuff as Shelford hath vented in his Five Discourses; +wherein he hath so carried himself <i>ut famosi Perni amanuensem +possis agnoscere</i>. The Jesuits of England sent over +the book hither to assure them that we are now coming +home to them as fast as we can. I pray God this sin be +not deeply laid to their charge, who give an occasion to +our blind thus to stumble' (as before). It was to these +'Five Discourses' our Poet furnished a 'commendatory' +poem—given by us unmutilated from the volume (vol. i. +pp. 162-5). Shelford, like his friend, was of Peterhouse. +Another college-friend was William Herrys (or Herries or +Harris), who was of Essex. He died in October 1631. He +was of Pembroke and Christ's. The poems and 'Epitaph' +consecrated to his memory are in various ways remarkable. +But beyond a few college-dates, I have failed to +recover notices of him. He seems to have been to Crashaw +what young King was to Milton and his fellow-students +(vol. i. pp. 220-30; vol. ii. pp. 378 et sqq.).<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> So with +James Stanninow (or Staninough), 'fellow of Queene's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lviii" id="Page_lviii">lviii</a></span> +Colledge'—the poem on whose death was first printed by +us (vol. i. pp. 290-92). He has a Latin poem prefixed to +Isaacson's 'Chronology' (our vol. i. pp. 246-49).<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> So too +with 'Master Chambers,' of the fine pathetic hitherto anonymous +poem 'Vpon the death of a Gentleman' (vol. i. +pp. 218-19). Neither have I been able to add one syllable +to the name and heading: 'An Epitaph vpon Mr. Ashton, +a conformable citizen.' Wren, Cosin, and others of Cambridge, +not being named by Crashaw, do not come under +these remarks. The new poems on Dr. Porter (vol. i. pp. +293-4), Dr. Mansell (vol. ii. p. 323), and others, explain +themselves—with our notes. Of Cardinal Palotta, or Palotto, +we get most satisfying glimpses in Dr. Bargrave's +volume (already quoted). The Protestant Canon's testimony +is: 'He is very papable [placable], and esteemed +worthy by all, especially the princes that know his virtue +and qualities, being a man of angelical life; and Rome +would be glad to see him Pope, to pull down the pride of +the Barberini. Innocent the Xth, now reigning, hath a +great regard for him, though his kindred care not for him, +because he speaketh his mind freely of them to the Pope' +(p. 36).<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lix" id="Page_lix">lix</a></span></p><p>It only remains that I notice our Crashaw's friendship +with (<i>a</i>) Abraham Cowley; (<i>b</i>) the Countess of Denbigh.</p> + +<p>(<i>a</i>) <span class="smcap">Abraham Cowley.</span> Of the alternate-poem on +Hope, composed by Cowley and Crashaw (vol. i. pp. 175-181), +and that 'Vpon two greene Apricockes sent to +Cowley by Sir Crashaw' (ib. pp. 269-70), more in our +next division. These remain as the ever-enduring 'memorial' +of their friendship, while the thought-full, love-full +'Elegy,' devoted by the survivor to the memory of his +Friend, can never pale of its glory (vol. i. pp. xxxvi.-viii.). +All honour to Cowley that he kept the traduced 'Apostate' +and 'Revolter' in his heart-of-hearts, and 'sought' +him out in his lowly 'lodgings' in the gay, and yet (to +him) sad Paris. It is my purpose one day worthily to reproduce +the Works of this in form fantastic, but in substance +most intellectual, of our Poets; and I shall have +then, perhaps, something additional to communicate on +this beautiful Friendship. They had appeared together +as Poets in the 'Voces Votivæ.' The various readings +show that Cowley's portion of Hope was revised in Paris; +and this, with the gift of the 'apricockes,' expresses that +they had some pleasant intercourse.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> + +<p>(<i>b</i>) <span class="smcap">Countess of Denbigh.</span> By the confiding goodness +of the present Earl and Countess of Denbigh, I have, +among my 'Sunny Memories,' most pleasant hours of a +long summer day spent in examining the Library and +family <span class="smcap">mss.</span> and portraits at Newnham Paddox, and a +continued and sympathetic correspondence, supplemented +with kindred helpfulness on the part of the good Father-priest +of the house. It is one of the anomalies of our +national historic Biography that the sister of Buckingham—Susan, +daughter of Sir George Villiers, of Brokesby, first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lx" id="Page_lx">lx</a></span> +Countess of Denbigh—should have died and made no +'sign,' and left no memorial; for it is absolutely unknown +when or where she did die. But as it is known that <i>she</i> +became a Roman Catholic,<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> while it is not known that +Elizabeth, daughter and co-heir of Edward Bourchier, Earl +of Bath, who became third wife (of four) of Basil, second +Earl of Denbigh, so 'changed,' we must conclude that +Turnbull and others are mistaken in regarding the latter +as Crashaw's 'patron' and friend. The family-papers show +that Susan Countess of Denbigh was a lady of intellect and +force; equally do they show that Elizabeth Bourchier was +(to say the least) un-literary. I have from Newnham Paddox +a sheaf of rarely-vivid and valuable Letters of 'Susan'—with +some of 'Elizabeth;' and if I can only succeed in +discovering the date of the former's death, so as to determine +whether she was living up to Crashaw's death in +1650, or thereby—as dowager-countess—I intend to prepare +a short Monograph on her, wherein I shall print, for +the first time, such a series of Letters as will compare with +any ever given to the world; and I should greatly like +to engrave her never-yet engraved magnificent face at +Newnham Paddox. For the present, a digression may +be allowed, in order to introduce, as examples of these +recovered Letters, a short and creditable one from Buckingham +to his mother, and one from Susan, Countess of +Denbigh, to her son; others, that are long and fact-full, +hereafter (as <i>supra</i>). These in order:</p> + + +<p class="center">I. Buckingham to his Mother [undated]:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxi" id="Page_lxi">lxi</a></span></p> + +<blockquote><p>Dere Mother,—Give me but as many blessings and pardons as I +shall make falts, and then you make happie</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center">Your most obedient Sonne,</p> +<p>For my Mother.</p><p class="smcap right">Buckingham.</p> + + + + +<p class="center">II. Susan, Countess of Denbigh, to Lord Fielding:</p> + +<blockquote><p>My deere Sone,—The king dothe approve well of your going into +Spane, and for my part I thinke it will be the best of your traviles +by reson that the king doth discours moust of that plase. I am +much afflicted for feare of Mr. Mason, but I hope our Lord well send +him well home againe. I pray do not torment me with your going +into the danger of the plauge any more. So with my blessing I take +my leave.</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center">Your loveing Mother,</p> +<p>For my deare Sonne theise.</p><p class="smcap right">Su. Denbigh.</p> + + +<p>The Verse-Letters to the Countess of Denbigh (vol. i. +pp. 295-303) will be read with renewed interest in the +light of the all-but certain fact that it was Susan, sister +of Buckingham—every way a memorable woman—who +was 'persuaded' by Crashaw to 'join' Roman Catholicism, +as did her mother.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> Reverting to the names which I have +endeavoured to commemorate, where hitherto scarcely +anything has been known, it will be perceived that the +circle of Crashaw's friendships was a narrow one, and +touched mainly the two things—his University career, and +his great 'change' religiously or rather ecclesiastically. Of +the Poets of his period, except Cowley and Ford, no trace +remains as known to or influential over him. When Crashaw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxii" id="Page_lxii">lxii</a></span> +entered Cambridge, Giles Fletcher had been dead +ten years; Phineas Fletcher and Herrick had left about +the same number of years; Herbert, for four or five; and +Milton was just going. His most choice friends were +among the mighty dead. Supreme names later lay outside +of his access. I wish he had met—as he might have +done—Milton. I pass next to</p> + +<p>III. <i>His characteristics and place as a Poet.</i> It is something +'new under the sun' that it should be our privilege +well-nigh to double the quantity of the extant Poetry of +such a Singer as Richard Crashaw, by printing, for the +first time, the treasure-trove of the Sancroft-Tanner <span class="smcap">mss.</span>; +and by translating (also for the first time) the whole of +his Latin poetry. Every element of a true poetic faculty +that belongs to his own published Poems is found in the +new, while there are new traits alike of character and +genius; and our Translations must be as the 'raising' of +the lid of a gem-filled casket, shut to the many for these +(fully) two hundred years. The admirer of Crashaw hitherto +has thus his horizon widened, and I have a kind +of feeling that perchance it were wiser to leave the completed +Poetry to make its own impression on those who +come to it. Nevertheless I must, however briefly, fulfil +my promise of an estimate of our Worthy. Four things +appear to me to call for examination, in order to give the +essentials of Crashaw as a Poet, and to gather his main +characteristics: (<i>a</i>) Imaginative-sensuousness; (<i>b</i>) Subtlety +of emotion; (<i>c</i>) Epigrams; (<i>d</i>) Translations and (briefly) +Latin and Greek Poetry. I would say a little on each.</p> + +<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>Imaginative-sensuousness.</i> Like 'charity' for 'love,' +the word 'sensuous' has deteriorated in our day. It is, I +fear, more than in sound and root confused with 'sensual,' +in its base application. I use it as Milton did, in the +well-known passage when he defined Poetry to be 'simple, +<i>sensuous</i>, and passionate;' and I qualify 'sensuousness'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxiii" id="Page_lxiii">lxiii</a></span> +with 'imaginative,' that I may express our Poet's peculiar +gift of looking at everything with a full, open, penetrative +eye, yet through his imagination; his imagination not +being as spectacles (coloured) astride the nose, but as +a light of white glory all over his intellect and entire +faculties. Only Wordsworth and Shelley, and recently +Rossetti and Jean Ingelow, are comparable with him in +this. You can scarcely err in opening on any page in +your out-look for it. The very first poem, 'The Weeper,' +is lustrous with it. For example, what a grand reach of +'imaginative' comprehensiveness have we so early as in +the second stanza, where from the swimming eyes of his +'Magdalene' he was, as it were, swept upward to the broad +transfigured sky in its wild ever-varying beauty of the +glittering silver rain!</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Heauns thy fair eyes be;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heauens of ever-falling starres.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis seed-time still with thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And starres thou sow'st whose haruest dares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Promise the Earth to counter-shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>How grandly vague is that 'counter-shine <i>whatever</i>,' as +it leads upwards to the 'forehead'—superb, awful, God-crowned—of +the 'heauns'! Of the same in kind, but +unutterably sweet and dainty also in its exquisiteness, is +stanza vii.:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'The deaw no more will weep <i>dew</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The primrose's pale cheek to deck:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The deaw no more will sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nuzzel'd in the lily's neck;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much rather would it be thy tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaue them both to tremble there.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Wordsworth's vision of the 'flashing daffodils' is not +finer than this. A merely realistic Poet (as John Clare or +Bloomfield) would never have used the glorious singular,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxiv" id="Page_lxiv">lxiv</a></span> +'thy tear,' with its marvellous suggestiveness of the multitudinous +dew regarding itself as outweighed in everything +by one 'tear' of such eyes. Every stanza gives a text for +commentary; and the rapid, crowding questions and +replies of the Tears culminate in the splendid homage +to the Saviour in the conclusion, touched with a gentle +scorn:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'We goe not to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The darlings of Aurora's bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rose's modest cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor the violet's humble head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because they want such teares as we.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Much lesse mean to trace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fortune of inferior gemmes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Preferr'd to some proud face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A worthy object, our <i>Lord's feet</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'Feet' at highest; mark the humbleness, and the fitness +too. Even more truly than of Donne (in Arthur Wilson's +Elegy) may it be said of Crashaw, here and elsewhere, +thou 'Couldst give both life and sense unto a flower,'—faint +prelude of Wordsworth's 'meanest flower.'</p> + +<p>Dr. Macdonald (in 'Antiphon') is perplexingly unsympathetic, +or, if I may dare to say it, wooden, in his criticism +on 'The Weeper;' for while he characterises it generally +as 'radiant of delicate fancy,' he goes on: 'but surely such +tones are not worthy of flitting moth-like about the holy +sorrow of a repentant woman! Fantastically beautiful, +they but play with her grief. Sorrow herself would put +her shoes off her feet in approaching the weeping Magdalene. +They make much of her indeed, but they show her +little reverence. There is in them, notwithstanding their +fervour of amorous words, a coldness, like that which +dwells in the ghostly beauty of icicles shining in the +moon' (p. 239). Fundamentally blundering is all this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxv" id="Page_lxv">lxv</a></span> +for the Critic ought to have marked how the Poet's +'shoes' are put off his feet in approaching the weeping +Magdalene; but that <i>she</i> is approached as far-back in the +Past or in a Present wherein her tears have been 'wiped +away,' so that the poem is dedicate not so much to The +Weeper as to her Tears, as things of beauty and pricelessness. +Mary, 'blessed among women,' is remembered all +through; and just as with her Divine Son we must 'sorrow' +in the vision of His sorrows, we yet have the remembrance +that they are all done, 'finished;' and thus we can +expatiate on them not with grief so much as joy. The +prolongation of 'The Weeper' is no 'moth-like flitting +about the holy sorrow of a repentant woman,' but the +never-to-be-satisfied rapture over the evidence of a 'godly +sorrow' that has worked to repentance, and in its reward +given loveliness and consecration to the tears shed. The +moon 'shining on icicles' is the antithesis of the truth. +Thus is it throughout, as in the backgrounds of the great +Portrait-painters as distinguished from Land-scapists and +Sea-scapists and Sky-scapists—Crashaw inevitably works +out his thoughts through something he has looked at as +transfigured by his imagination, so that you find his most +mystical thinking and feeling framed (so to say) with images +drawn from Nature. That he did look not at but +into Nature, let 'On a foule Morning, being then to take +a Journey,' and 'To the Morning; Satisfaction for Sleepe,' +bear witness. In these there are penetrative 'looks' that +Wordsworth never has surpassed, and a richness almost +Shakesperean. Milton must have studied them keenly. +There is this characteristic also in the 'sensuousness' of +Crashaw, that while the Painter glorifies the ignoble and +the coarse (as Hobbima's Asses and red-cloaked Old +Women) in introducing it into a scene of Wood, or Way-side, +or Sea-shore, his outward images and symbolism are +worthy in themselves, and stainless as worthy (passing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxvi" id="Page_lxvi">lxvi</a></span> +exceptions only establishing the rule). His epithets are +never superfluous, and are, even to surprising nicety, true. +Thus he calls Egypt '<i>white</i> Egypt' (vol. i. p. 81); and +occurring as this does 'In the glorious Epiphanie of ovr +Lord God,' we are reminded again how the youthful Milton +must have had this extraordinary composition in his +recollection when he composed his immortal Ode.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> Similarly +we have '<i>hir'd</i> mist' (vol. i. p. 84); '<i>pretious</i> losse' +(ib.); '<i>fair-ey'd</i> fallacy of Day' (ib. p. 85); '<i>black</i> but +faithfull perspectiue of Thee' (ib. p. 86); '<i>abasèd</i> liddes' +(ib. p. 88); '<i>gratious</i> robbery' (ib. p. 156); 'thirsts of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxvii" id="Page_lxvii">lxvii</a></span> +loue' (ib.); '<i>timerous</i> light of starres' (ib. p. 172); '<i>rebellious</i> +eye of Sorrow' (ib. p. 112); and so in hundreds of +parallels. Take this from 'To the Name above every +Name' (ib. p. 60):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'O come away ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love's eastern windowes—all wide ope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With curtains drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch the day-break of Thy dawn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, dawn at last, long-lookt-for Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take thine own wings, and come away.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Comparing Cowley's and Crashaw's 'Hope,' Coleridge +thus pronounces on them: 'Crashaw seems in his poems +to have given the first ebullience of his imagination, +unshapen into form, or much of what we now term sweetness. +In the poem Hope, by way of question and answer, +his superiority to Cowley is self-evident;' and he +continues, 'In that on the Name of Jesus, equally so; but +his lines on St. Teresa are the finest.' 'Where he does +combine richness of thought and diction, nothing can excel, +as in the lines you so much admire,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since 'tis not to be had at home<br /></span> +<span class="i2">. . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'l to the Moores and martyrdom.'<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And then as never-to-be-forgotten 'glory' of the Hymn +to Teresa, he adds: 'these verses were ever present to +my mind whilst writing the second part of the Christabel; if +indeed, by some subtle process of the mind, they did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxviii" id="Page_lxviii">lxviii</a></span> +suggest the first thought of the whole poem' (Letters +and Conversations, 1836, i. 196). Coleridge makes another +critical remark which it may be worth while to adduce +and perhaps qualify. 'Poetry as regards small Poets may +be said to be, in a certain sense, conventional in its accidents +and in its illustrations. Thus [even] Crashaw uses +an image "as sugar melts in tea away;" which although +<i>proper then</i> and <i>true now</i>, was in bad taste at that time +equally with the present. In Shakespeare, in Chaucer, +there was nothing of this' (as before). The great Critic +forgot that 'sugar' and 'tea' were not vulgarised by familiarity +when Crashaw wrote, that the wonder and romance +of their gift from the East still lay around them, and that +their use was select, not common. Thus later I explain +Milton's homeliness of allusion, as in the word 'breakfast,' +and 'fell to,' and the like; words and places and things +that have long been not prosaic simply, but demeaned +and for ever unpoetised. I am not at all careful to defend +the 'sugar' and 'tea' metaphor; but it, I think, belongs +also to his imaginative-sensuousness, whereby orient awfulness +almost, magnified and dignified it to him.</p> + +<p>Moreover the canon in 'Antiphon' is sound: 'When +we come, in the writings of one who has revealed master-dom, +upon any passage that seems commonplace, or any +figure that suggests nothing true, the part of wisdom is to +brood over that point; for the probability is that the +barrenness lies in us, two factors being necessary for the +result of sight—the thing to be seen, and the eye to see it. +No doubt the expression may be inadequate; but if we +can compensate the deficiency by adding more vision, so +much the better for us' (p. 243).</p> + +<p>I thank Dr. George Macdonald<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> (in 'Antiphon') for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxix" id="Page_lxix">lxix</a></span> +his quaint opening words on our Crashaw, and forgive +him, for their sake, his blind reading of 'The Weeper.' +'I come now to one of the loveliest of our angel-birds, +Richard Crashaw. Indeed, he was like a bird in more +senses than one; for he belongs to that class of men who +seem hardly ever to get foot-hold of this world, but are +ever floating in the upper air of it' (p. 238). True, and +yet not wholly; or rather, if our Poet ascends to 'the upper +air,' and sings there with all the divineness of the skylark, +like the skylark his eyes fail not to over-watch the nest +among the grain beneath, nor his wings to be folded over +it at the shut of eve. Infinitely more, then, is to be found +in Crashaw than Pope (in his Letter to his friend Henry +Cromwell) found: 'I take this poet to have writ like a +gentleman; that is, at leisure hours, and more to keep +out of idleness than to establish a reputation: so that +nothing regular or just can be expected of him. All that +regards design, form, fable (which is the soul of poetry), +all that concerns exactness, or consent of parts (which is +the body), will probably be wanting; only pretty conceptions, +fine metaphors, glittering expressions, and something +of a neat cast of verse (which are properly the +dress, gems, or loose ornaments of poetry), may be found +in these verses.' Nay verily, the form is often exquisite; +but 'neat' and 'pretty conceptions' applied to such verse +is as 'pretty' applied to Niagara—so full, strong, deep, +thought-laden is it. I have no wish to charge plagiarism +on Pope from Crashaw, as Peregrine Phillips did (see +onward); but neither is the contemptuous as ignorant +answer by a metaphor of Hayley to be received. The two +minds were essentially different: Pope was talented, and +used his talents to the utmost; Crashaw had absolute as +unique genius.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxx" id="Page_lxx">lxx</a></span></p><p>(<i>b</i>) <i>Subtlety of emotion.</i> Dr. Donne, in a memorable +passage, with daring originality, sings of Mrs. Drury rapturously:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Her pure and eloquent soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one might almost say her body thought.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I have much the same conception of Crashaw's thinking. +It was so emotional as almost always to tremble into feeling. +Bare intellect, 'pure' (= naked) thought, you rarely +come on in his Poems. The thought issues forth from (in +old-fashioned phrase) the heart, and its subtlety is something +unearthly even to awfulness. Let the reader give +hours to the study of the composition entitled 'In the +glorious Epiphanie of ovr Lord God, a Hymn svng as by +the three Kings,' and 'In the holy Nativity of ovr Lord +God.' Their depth combined with elevation, their grandeur +softening into loveliness, their power with pathos, +their awe bursting into rapture, their graciousness and +lyrical music, their variety and yet unity, will grow in their +study. As always, there is a solid substratum of original +thought in them; and the thinking, as so often in Crashaw, +is surcharged with emotion. If the thought may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxi" id="Page_lxxi">lxxi</a></span> +likened to fire, the praise, the rapture, the yearning may +be likened to flame leaping up from it. Granted that, as +in fire and flame, there are coruscations and jets of smoke, +yet is the smoke that 'smoak' of which Chudleigh in his +Elegy for Donne sings:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Incense of love's and fancie's <i>holy smoak</i>;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>or, rather, that 'smoke' which filled the House to the +vision of Isaiah (vi. 4). The hymn 'To the admirable +Sainte Teresa,' and the 'Apologie' for it, and related +'Flaming Heart,' and 'In the glorious Assvmption of our +Blessed Lady,' are of the same type. Take this from the +'Flaming Heart' (vol. i. p. 155):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Leaue her ... the flaming heart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaue her that, and thou shalt leaue her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one loose shaft, but Loue's whole quiver.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For in Loue's feild was neuer found</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A nobler weapon than a wovnd.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wounded is the wounding heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">. . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His homage to the Virgin is put into words that pass the +bounds which we Protestants set to the 'blessed among +women' in her great renown, and even while a Protestant +Crashaw fell into what we must regard as the strange +as inexplicable forgetfulness that it is The <i>Man</i>, not +The Child, who is our ever-living High-Priest 'within the +veil,' and that not in His mother's bosom, but on the +Throne of sculptured light, is His place. Still, you recognise +that the homage to the Virgin-mother is to the +Divine Son through her, and through her in fine if also +mistaken humility. 'Mary' is the Muse of Crashaw; +the Lord Jesus his 'Lord' and hers. I would have the +reader spend willing time, in slowly, meditatively reading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxii" id="Page_lxxii">lxxii</a></span> +the whole of our Poet's sacred Verse, to note how the +thinking thus thrills into feeling, and feeling into rapture—the +rapture of adoration. It is miraculous how he +finds words wherewith to utter his most subtle and vanishing +emotion. Sometimes there is a daintiness and antique +richness of wording that you can scarcely equal out +of the highest of our Poets, or only in them. Some of +his images from Nature are scarcely found anywhere else. +For example, take this very difficult one of ice, in the +Verse-Letter to the Countess of Denbigh (vol. i. p. 298, +ll. 21-26), 'persuading' her no longer to be the victim of +her doubts:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'So, when the Year takes cold, we see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poor waters <i>their own prisoners be;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Fetter'd and lock'd-up fast they lie</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>In a cold self-captivity</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deplore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find themselves their own severer shoar.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Young is striking in his use of the ice-metaphor:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'in Passion's flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearts melt; but <i>melt like ice, soon harder froze</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +(Night-Thoughts, N. <span class="smcap">II.</span> l. 522-3.)<br /> +</p> + +<p>But how strangely original is the earlier Poet in so cunningly +working it into the very matter of his persuasion! +Our quotation from Young recalls that in the 'Night-Thoughts' +there are evident reminiscences of Crashaw: +<i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Midnight veil'd his face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not such as this, not such as Nature makes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A midnight new; a dread eclipse, without<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opposing spheres, from her Creator's frown.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +(Night <span class="smcap">IV.</span> ll. 246-250.)<br /> +</p> + +<p>So in 'Gilt was Hell's gloom' (N. <span class="smcap">VII.</span> l. 1041), and in this +portrait of Satan:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His baleful eyes!' (N. <span class="smcap">IX.</span> ll. 280-1.) and<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxiii" id="Page_lxxiii">lxxiii</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'the fiery gulf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That flaming bound of wrath omnipotent;' (Ib. ll. 473-4)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Banners streaming as the comet's blaze;' (Ib. l. 323)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Which makes a hell of hell,' (Ib. l. 340)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>we have the impress and inspiration of our Poet.</p> + +<p>How infinitely soft and tender and Shakesperean is the +'Epitaph vpon a yovng Married Covple dead and bvryed +together' (with its now restored lines), thus!—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Peace, good Reader, doe not weep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, the louers are asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, sweet turtles, folded ly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the last knott that Loue could ty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though they ly as they were dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them sleep; let them sleep on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till this stormy night be gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the æternall morrow dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then ...' (vol. i. pp. 230-1.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The hush, the tranquil stillness of a church-aisle, within +which 'sleep' old recumbent figures, comes over one in +reading these most pathetically beautiful words. Of the +whole poem, Dodd in his 'Epigrammatists' (as onward) +remarks, 'after reading this Epitaph, all others on the +same subject must suffer by comparison. Yet there is +much to be admired in the following by Bishop Hall, on +Sir Edward and Lady Lewkenor. It is translated from +the Latin by the Bishop's descendant and editor, the Rev. +Peter Hall (Bp. Hall's Works, 1837-9, xii. 331):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'In bonds of love united, man and wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long, yet too short, they spent a happy life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">United still, too soon, however late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both man and wife receiv'd the stroke of fate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now in glory clad, enraptur'd pair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxiv" id="Page_lxxiv">lxxiv</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same bright cup, the same sweet draught they share.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, first and last, a married couple see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In life, in death, in immortality.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There is much beauty also in an anonymous epitaph in +the 'Festoon' 143, 'On a Man and his Wife:'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Here sleep, whom neither life nor love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor friendship's strictest tie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could in such close embrace as thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their faithful grave, ally;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Preserve them, each dissolv'd in each,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For bands of love divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For union only more complete,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou faithful grave, than thine.' (p. 253.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His 'Wishes to his (supposed) Mistresse' has things in +it vivid and subtle as anything in Shelley at his best; and +I affirm this deliberately. His little snatch on 'Easter +Day' with some peculiarities, culminates in a grandeur +Milton might bow before. The version of 'Dies Irae' is +wonderfully severe and solemn and intense. Roscommon +undoubtedly knew it. And so we might go on endlessly. +His melody—with exceptional discords—is as the music of +a Master, not mere versification. Once read receptively, +and the words haunt almost awfully, and, I must again +use the word, unearthlily. Summarily—as in our claim for +Vaughan, as against the preposterous traditional assertions +of his indebtedness to Herbert poetically, while +really it was for spiritual benefits he was obligated—we +cannot for an instant rank George Herbert as a Poet with +Crashaw. Their piety is alike, or the 'Priest' of Bemerton +is more definite, and clear of the 'fine mist' of mysticism +of the recluse of 'Little St. Mary's;' but only very +rarely have you in 'The Temple' that light of genius +which shines as a very Shekinah-glory in the 'Steps to the +Temple.' These 'Steps' have been spoken of as 'Steps' +designed to lead into Herbert's 'Temple,' whereas they +were 'Steps' to the 'Temple' or Church of the Living<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxv" id="Page_lxxv">lxxv</a></span> +God. Crashaw 'sang' sweetly and generously of Herbert +(vol. i. pp. 139-140); but the two Poets are profoundly +distinct and independent. Clement Barksdale, probably, +must bear the blame of foolishly subordinating Crashaw +to Herbert, in his Lines in 'Nympha Libethris' (1651):</p> + + +<p class="center">'HERBERT AND CRASHAW.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When unto Herbert's Temple I ascend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Crashaw's Steps, I do resolve to mend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lighter verse, and my low notes to raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in high accent sing my Maker's praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile these sacred poems in my sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I place, that I may learn to write.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Epigrams.</i> The title-page of the Epigr. Sacra of +1670 marks out for us their main dates; that is to say, +as it designates him 'Collegii Petrensis Socius,' which he +was not until 1637, the only portion that belongs to that +period must be the additions made in the 1670 edition +(see vol. ii. pp. 3-4). Dr. Macdonald (in 'Antiphon') observes: +'His Divine Epigrams are not the most beautiful, +but they are to me the most valuable, of his verses, inasmuch +as they make us feel afresh the truth which he sets +forth anew. In them some of the facts of our Lord's life +and teaching look out upon us as from clear windows of +the Past. As epigrams, too, they are excellent—pointed +as a lance' (p. 240). He limits himself to the 'English' +Epigrams, and quotes after above, Nos. <span class="smcap">LIV.</span> (2) and <span class="smcap">XI.</span>; +and continues with No. <span class="smcap">XIV.</span>, and next <span class="smcap">LIV.</span> (1); on which +he says: 'I value the following as a lovely parable. Mary +is not contented; to see the place is little comfort. The +church itself, with all its memories of the Lord, the Gospel-story, +and all theory about Him, is but His tomb until +we find Himself;' and he closes with one which he thinks +is 'perhaps his best,' viz. No. <span class="smcap">I.</span><a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> We too may give it:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxvi" id="Page_lxxvi">lxxvi</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'<i>Two went up into the Temple to pray.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two went to pray! O, rather say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One went to brag, th' other to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One stands up close, and treads on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where th' other dares not send his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One neerer to God's altar trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other to the altar's God.' (vol. ii. p. 35.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The admiring critic on this proceeds: 'This appears to +me perfect. Here is the true relation between the forms +and the end of religion. The priesthood, the altar and +all its ceremonies, must vanish from between the sinner +and his God. When the priest forgets his mediation of +a servant, his duty of a door-keeper to the temple of +truth, and takes upon him the office of an intercessor, he +stands between man and God, and is a satan, an adversary. +Artistically considered, the poem could hardly be +improved' (p. 241). 'Artistically,' nevertheless, it is a wonder +Dr. Macdonald did not detect Turnbull's mis-reading +of 'lend' for 'send' (l. 4). Bellew in his Poet's Corner +reads 'bend,' which is equally poor for 'tendit.' There +follows No. <span class="smcap">XLII.</span>, 'containing a similar lesson;' and finally +No. <span class="smcap">XLV.</span> p. 196, whereof he says: 'The following is a world-wide +intercession for them that know not what they do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxvii" id="Page_lxxvii">lxxvii</a></span> +Of those that reject the truth, who can be said ever to +have truly seen it? A man must be good to see truth. It +is a thought suggested by our Lord's words, not an irreverent +opposition to the truth of them' (p. 242).</p> + +<p>Now that, besides the (relatively) few Epigrams which +were translated by Crashaw himself, the whole are translated +(for the first time), and now too that, exclusive of +longer Latin poems, a goodly addition has been made by +us to them, the reader will find it rewarding to turn and +return on this remarkable section of Crashaw's poetry. +Conceits there are, grotesque as gargoyles of a cathedral, +oddities of symbolism, even passing into unconscious playing +with holy words and things never to be played with; +but each has a jewel of a distinct thought or sentiment, +and often the wording is felicitous, albeit, as in all his +Latin verse, not invariably without technical faults of +quantity and even syntax. I had marked very many for +specific criticism; but I must refrain. Our translation is +perhaps a better commentary. To my co-workers and +myself it has been a labour of love. I must close our +notice of Crashaw as an Epigrammatist with some parallels +from 'The Epigrammatists' of the Rev. Henry Philip +Dodd, M.A. (1870). Under No. <span class="smcap">CXVII.</span>, 'On Pontius Pilate +washing his hands,' he has this: 'In Elsum's Epigrams +on Paintings, 1700, is one on a picture by Andrea Sacchi +of Pilate washing his hands, translated from Michael Silos, +De Romana Pictura et Sculptura' (Ep. 17):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O cursèd Pilate, villain dyed in grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little water cannot purge thy stain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, Tanaïs can't do't, nor yet the main.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou condemn a Deity to death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him whose mere love gave and preserv'd thy breath?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Similarly, under No. <span class="smcap">LI.</span> 'On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness,' +he has this: 'Some lines "To the Blessed Virgin +at her Purification," by the old epigrammatist Bancroft,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxviii" id="Page_lxxviii">lxxviii</a></span> +are almost as beautiful in sentiment as this exquisite piece +(Book ii. 86):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, favourite of Heaven, most fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou bring fowls for sacrifice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will not the armful thou dost bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lovely Lamb of thine, suffice?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Of the exceptionally celebrated, not exceptionally superior +Epigram on 'The Water turned Wine,' which somehow +has been given by a perverse continued blunder to +Dryden, Aaron Hill's masterly translation may be read +along with those given by us in the place (vol. ii. pp. 96-7):</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inspir'd cold water with the warmth of wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See! cried they, while in red'ning tide it gush'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bashful stream hath seen its God, and <i>blush'd</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Dryden's 'The conscious water saw its God, and blush'd,' +is a mere remembrance of Crashaw.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></p> + +<p>(<i>d</i>) <i>Translations and (briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry.</i> +It may seem semi-paradoxical to affirm it, but in our opinion +the genius of Crashaw shines with its fullest splendour +in his Translations, longer and shorter. Even were there +not his wonderful 'Suspicion of Herod' and 'Musick's Duell,' +this might be said; for in his 'Dies Irae,' and 'Hymne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxix" id="Page_lxxix">lxxix</a></span> +out of Sainte Thomas,' and others lesser, there are felicities +that only a genuine Maker could have produced. +His 'Dies Irae' was the earliest version in our language. +Roscommon and Scott alike wrote after and 'after' it. +But it is on the two truly great Poems named we found +our estimate. Turning to 'Musick's Duell,' as we ask the +reader to do now (vol. i. 197-203), we have only to read +critically the Latin of Strada, from whence it is drawn, to +discern the creative gift of our Poet. Here it is:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam Sol a medio pronus deflexerat orbe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mitius, e radiis vibrans crinalibus ignem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum Fidicen, propter Tiberina fluenta, sonanti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lenibat plectra curas, aestumque levabat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ilice defensus nigra scenaque virenti.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Audiit hunc hospes silvae Philomela propinquae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Musa loci, nemoris siren, innoxia siren;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et prope succedens stetit abdita frondibus, alte<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accipiens sonitum, secumque remurmurat, et quos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille modos variat digitis, haec gutture reddit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sensit se Fidicen Philomela imitante referri,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et placuit ludum volucri dare; plenius ergo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explorat citharam, tentamentumque futurae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praebeat ut pugnae, percussit protinus omnes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impulsu pernice fides, nec segnius illa.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille per excurrens variae discrimina vocis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Venturi specimen praefert argutula cantus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc Fidicen per fila movens trepidantia dextram,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc contemnenti similis diverberat ungue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depectitque pari chordas, et simplice ductu:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc carptim replicat, digitisque micantibus urget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fila minutatim, celerique repercutit ictu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mox silet. Illa modis totidem respondet, et artem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arte refert. Nunc seu rudis aut incerta canendi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Projicit in longum, nulloque plicatile flexu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carmen init, simili serie, jugique tenore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praebet iter liquidum labenti e pectore voce;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc caesim variat, modulisque canora minutis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delibrat vocem, tremuloque reciprocat ore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miratur Fidicen parvis e faucibus ire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxx" id="Page_lxxx">lxxx</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam varium, tam dulce melos; majoraque tentans<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alternat mira arte fides; dum torquet acutas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inciditque, graves operoso verbere pulsat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Permiscetque simul certantia rauca sonoris,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ceu resides in bella viros clangore lacessat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc etiam Philomela canit: dumque ore liquenti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vibrat acuta sonum, modulisque interplicat acquis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ex inopinato gravis intonat, et leve murmur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turbinat introrsus, alternantique sonore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clarat, et infuscat ceu martia classica pulset.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet erubuit Fidicen, ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non imitabilibus plectrum concentibus urget.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Namque manu per fila volat, simul hos, simul illos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explorat numeros, chordaque laborat in omni,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et strepit, et tinnit, crescitque superbius, et se<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Multiplicat religens, plenoque choreumate plaudit.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It will be noted by the student that such word-painting +as in these lines belongs to Crashaw, not Strada:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'and streightway she<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Carves out her dainty voyce as readily</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the sleeke passage of her open throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A clear unwrinckled song</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i2">closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hoarce, shrill at once; as when the trumpets call</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Men's hearts into their hands</i>:'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i6">staggers in a warbling doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Of dallying sweetnesse</i>, hovers o'er her skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i16">a tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of streaming sweetnesse, <i>which in state doth ride</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Rising and falling in a pompous traine</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus high, thus low, <i>as if her silver throat</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Would reach the brazen voyce of War's hoarce bird</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxi" id="Page_lxxxi">lxxxi</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">... his hands sprightly as fire, he flings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with <i>a quavering coynesse tasts the strings</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing their feares, are fearefully delighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Trembling as when Appolo's golden haires</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Of his own breath: which marryed to his lyre</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth tune the spheares.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i12">with nectar drop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The lute's light genius now does proudly rise</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the words of Willmott (as before), 'We shall seek in +vain in the Latin text for the vigour, the fancy, and the +grandeur of these lines. These remain with Crashaw, of +whose obligations to Strada we may say, as Hayley [stupidly, +if picturesquely] remarked of Pope's debt to Crashaw, +that if he borrowed anything from him in this +article, it was only as the sun borrows from the earth, +when, drawing from thence a mere vapour, he makes it +the delight of every eye, by giving it all the tender and +gorgeous colouring of heaven' (vol. i. p. 323). The richness +and fulness of our Poet as a Translator becomes the +more clear when we place beside his interpretation of +Strada the 'translations' of others, as given in the places +(vol. i. pp. 203-6). A third (anonymous) version we discovered +among the Lansdowne <span class="smcap">mss.</span> 3910, pt. lxvi., from +which we take a specimen:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Now the declininge sunn 'gan downward bende<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From higher heauene, and from his locks did sende<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A milder flame; when neere to Tyber's flowe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Lutaniste allayde his carefull woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sondinge charmes, and in a greeny seate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shady oake, toke shelter from the heate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxii" id="Page_lxxxii">lxxxii</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A nitingale ore-hard hym that did use<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To soiourne in y<sup>e</sup> neighbour groues, the Muse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That files the place, the syren of the wood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poore harmeles Syren, steling neere she stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close lurkinge in the leaues attentiuely:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recordinge that vnwonted mellodye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She condt it to herselfe, and every straine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fingers playde, her throat return'd againe.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And so to the end (<span class="smcap">MS.</span> 3910, pp. 114-17). We have reserved +until now incomparably the second, but only a +far-off second, to Crashaw's, from John Ford's 'Lover's +Melancholy' (1629); which probably was our Poet's guide +to Strada. Here is the substance of the fine reminiscent +version, from act i. scene 1:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Menaphon.</i> A sound of music touched mine ears, or rather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed, entranced my soul. As I stole nearer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invited by the melody, I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With strains of strange variety and harmony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challenge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the clear choristers of the wood, the birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That as they flocked about him all stood silent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wondering at what they heard. I wondered too.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Amethus.</i> And do so I: good, on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Men.</i> A nightingale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's best-skilled musician, undertakes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The challenge, and for every several strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The well-shaped youth could touch, she sung her own:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He could not run division with more art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon his quaking instrument than she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nightingale did with her various notes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reply to: for a voice and for a sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amethus, 'tis much easier to believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That such they were, than hope to hear again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ameth.</i> How did the rivals part?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Men.</i> You term them rightly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they were rivals, and their mistress, Harmony.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxiii" id="Page_lxxxiii">lxxxiii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a pretty anger, that a bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should vie with him for mastery, whose study<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had busied many hours to perfect practice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To end the controversy, in a rapture,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon his instrument he plays so swiftly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many voluntaries, and so quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there was curiosity and cunning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concord in discord, lines of differing method<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meeting in one full centre of delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ameth.</i> Now for the bird.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Men.</i> The bird, ordained to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music's first master, strove to imitate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These several sounds; which when her warbling throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the conqueror upon her hearse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To weep.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Comment is needless on such pale, empty literality, as compared +with the vitality and <i>élan</i> of Crashaw, in all but +Ford's; while even Ford's is surpassed in every way by +the 'Musick's Duell.'</p> + +<p>The 'Suspicion of Herod,' by Marino (c. i.), is a grand +poem in the original. Milton knew it, and was taken by +it. Our Poet had glorious materials whereon to work, +accordingly, when he turned Translator of this all-too-little +known Singer of Italy. But Crashaw's soul was +more spacious, his imagination more imperial, his vocabulary +wealthier, than even Marino's. The greatness and +grandeur and force of the Italian roused the Englishman +to emulation. Willmott (as before) has placed the original +Italian beside Crashaw's interpretation, and the advance +in the Translator on his original is almost startling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxiv" id="Page_lxxxiv">lxxxiv</a></span> +We prefer adducing Crashaw, and then giving a close rendering +of the original: <i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>On which, as on a glorious stranger, gaz'd</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The golden eyes of Night</i>.' (st. xvii.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally in Marino:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'<i>He sees also shining from heaven,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With beauteous ray, the wondrous star</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, brilliant and beautiful, goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pointing the way straight towards Bethlehem.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He saw how in that blest Day-bearing Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heav'n-rebukèd shades made hast away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>How bright a dawne of angels with new light</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Of which the Morning knew not</i>.' (st. xv.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally in Marino:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He sees the quiet shades and the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horrors of the happy, holy Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smitten and routed by heavenly voices,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vanquished by angelic splendours.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Once more: when Alecto, the most terrible of the infernal +sisters, ascends to Earth at the command of Satan:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shut their flowry lids for ever;' (st. xlviii.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Parvero i fiori intorno e la verdura<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sentir forza di peste, ira di verno;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'soon as Hell had vomited out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This monster from the dark abyss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The flowers all around and the verdure appeared</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To feel the strength of the plague, the fury of winter</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This naked simplicity of wording is very fine: yet do +Crashaw's adornments bring new charm to Marino. The +soliloquy of Satan, though close as the skin to the body,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxv" id="Page_lxxxv">lxxxv</a></span> +has a ruddiness (so-to-say) from Crashaw. Nothing in +Milton is grander than st. xxv. to xxx.; and in all there +are touches from the cunning hand of Crashaw: <i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'<i>And for the never-fading fields of light;</i>' (st. xxvii.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for Marino's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Che più può farmi omai chi la celeste<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Reggia mi tolse, e i regni i miei lucenti</i>?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'What more can He now do to me, Who took<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>From me the heavenly palace and my bright realms</i>?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'<i>Bow our bright heads before a king of clay;</i>' (st. xxviii.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for Marino's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Volle alle forme sue semplici e prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Natura sovralzar corporea e bassa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E de' membri del ciel capo sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far di limo terrestre eterna massa;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He turns to his simple primitive forms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To raise Nature above the corporeal and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to make an unworthy mass of earthly clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sublime head of the heavenly members.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Compare also st. x. in Crashaw with the original as literally +rendered:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Disdainefull wretch, how hath one bold sinne cost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How hath <i>one black eclipse cancell'd and crost</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The glories that did gild thee in thy rise!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Proud morning of a perverse day</i>, how lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Narcissus! foolish Phaeton, who for all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy <i>high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Literally in Marino:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O wretched Angel, once fairer than light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How thou hast lost thy primeval splendour!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxvi" id="Page_lxxxvi">lxxxvi</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt have from the eternal Requiter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserved punishment for the unjust crime:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud admirer of thy honours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebellious usurper of another's seat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transformed, and fallen into Phlegethon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud Narcissus, impious Phaethon!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Milton takes from Crashaw, not Marino, in his portrait +of the Destroyer:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This mortall enemy to mankind's good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts his <i>malignant eyes, wasted with care,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To become beautifull in humane blood</i>.' (st. xi.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Literally in Marino:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'He from the shades of death to the living air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envious in truth of our human state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted aloft his eyes by where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hollow vent-hole opened straight down.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Well-nigh innumerable single lines and words are inevitably +marked: <i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'the rebellious eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sorrow.' (st. xlix.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the eyes of Satan:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'the sullen dens of Death and Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startle the dull ayre with a dismal red;' (st. vii.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for Marino's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Negli occhi ove mestizia alberga e morte,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luce fiammeggia torbida e vermiglia;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>literally:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'In the eyes where sadness dwells and death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A turbid vermilion-coloured light shines.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again: the sun is seen by the Tempter to</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Make proud the ruby portalls of the East;' (st. xvi.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for 'la Reggia Oriental.' Crashaw has the same vivid fancy +in the Hymn for Epiphany:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'Aurora shall set ope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her ruby casements.'<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxvii" id="Page_lxxxvii">lxxxvii</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Finally, to show that even where our Translator keeps +closest to the original, he yet gives the creative touches of +which I have already spoken, read his st. v. beside this +literal translation:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Under the abysses, at the very core of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the central point of the universe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the bowers of the darkest deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There stands the fiendly perverse Spirit:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sharp thongs an impure group<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Binds him with a hundred snakes athwart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such bonds girds him for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great champion who conquered <span class="smcap">HIM</span> in Paradise.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Thus we might go over the entire poem, and everywhere +we should gather proofs that he was himself all he conceived +in his splendid portraiture of the true Poet's genius:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'no rapture makes it live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose feet can walke the Milky Way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her starry throne, and hold up an exalted arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lift me from my lazy urn and climbe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the stoopèd shoulders of old Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trace eternity.' (vol. i. p. 238.)<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Fully to estimate Crashaw's own grander imaginative +faculty the Reader must study here the now-first-printed +and very Miltonic poems on Apocalypse xii. 7 (Vol. II. pp. +231-3) and 'Christe, veni' (<i>ib.</i> pp. 223-5). It is profoundly +to be regretted that our Poet should have limited himself to +Book <span class="smcap">I.</span> of the 'Strage degli Innocenti,' viz. 'Sospetto d'Herode.' +Book <span class="smcap">VII.</span> especially, 'Della Gerusalemme Distruta,' +would have demanded all his powers. The entire poem +was 'done in English,' and it is '<i>done</i>' (by T.R. 1675).</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxviii" id="Page_lxxxviii">lxxxviii</a></span></p> +<p>With reference to our own Translations of Crashaw, if +in some instances we have enlarged on our original, and +adventured to fill-in what in the Latin the Poet is fettered +in uttering, may we apologise by pleading his own +example as a Translator, though with unequal steps and +far off? I would specify the very remarkable 'Bulla,' in +which, indeed, I find Crashaw's highest of pure poetic +faculty within the region of Fancy in its delicatest and +subtlest symbolisms; also the scarcely less remarkable address +'To the Reader' ('Lectori'); and his 'Fides &c. &c.' +and his classical legends of 'Arion,' and his University +'Laments' and 'Appeals' for Peterhouse. Throughout, +my co-workers and myself have aimed to give the <i>thought</i> +of Crashaw; and, unless I egregiously mistake, we have +together earned some gratitude from admirers of our +Worthy.</p> + +<p>I leave to other Scholars to deal critically with the +Latin and Greek of these Poems and Epigrams now first +translated. Read unsympathetically, I fear that very often +his quantities and versification will be regarded as barbarous; +but we have done something, it is believed, to +neutralise Turnbull's most discreditable misprints herein, +as in the English Poems. In the places (vol. ii. pp. 5-6, +244, and 332) we have recorded some of his more flagrant +blunders; but besides we have silently corrected as many +more of the original and early editions.</p> + +<p>That Crashaw was not an accurate scholar the Greek +Epigrams (as well as some of the Latin ones) furnish sufficient +proof. Of the many obvious errors in quantity +and construction, I have only corrected such as may have +been mere oversights, some of them perhaps caused by +his MS. having been misread; in other cases I have followed +the original editions, and corrected the numerous errors +made by Turnbull from his not being able to read the +Greek ligatures &c. It may be well to indicate a few of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_lxxxix" id="Page_lxxxix">lxxxix</a></span> +the typical corrections that I felt obliged to make, and +note other lapses which I did not feel justified in altering.</p> + +<p>In <span class="smcap">XI.</span> last line, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἀπέῤῥιπτον</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἀπόῤῥιπτον</span>; <span class="smcap">CXXI.</span> last line, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἔην</span> +for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἔη</span>; <span class="smcap">CXXV.</span> line 5. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">κεῖν'</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">κεῖν</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXX.</span> line 1 has <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">πλάνη</span> +as if the penult were long instead of short, and <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἄλημι</span> an unused +form, so that the line offends both quantity and usage—it +might be amended thus, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Εἷς μὲν ἐγὼ, ᾗ μού τε πλάνη περιῆγεν, +ἀλῶμαι</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXXII.</span> line 1, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐπέβαλλεν</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐπίβαλλεν</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXXIII.</span> +line 2, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">συκόμωρε</span> should be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">συκόμορε</span>, but altered for scansion; +line 3, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐκκρήμνης</span> should perhaps be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐκκρημνὰς</span>; line 4, unscanable; +and in <span class="smcap">CXXV.</span> line 4, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">δασίοις</span> should be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">δασέσιν</span>. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">οὐρανὸς</span>, +the penult of which is short, he uses as either long or short.</p> + +<p>I must add, that the accentuation was as often wrong +as right. I have carefully corrected it throughout. And +this seems to me to be the only allowable way of reproducing +Crashaw. An Editor cannot be held responsible +for his Author writing imperfect Greek or Latin, any more +than for his mistakes either in opinion or in matters-of-fact +or taste.</p> + +<p>Anderson's and Chalmers' Poets, and Peregrine Phillip's +Selections, and Turnbull's edition in Russell Smith's +'Old Authors' and that in Gilfillan's Poets (a selection +only), are our predecessors in furnishing Crashaw's Poetry. +We confess to a feeling of just pride (shall we say?) in +being the first worthily and adequately to present as remarkable +Poetry, in its own region, as is anywhere to be +found. <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span> has assuredly not yet gathered +all his fame.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Alexander B. Grosart.</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xc" id="Page_xc">xc</a><br /> +<a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p> + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_1_1" id="Latin_Poems_1_1"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART FIRST. SACRED.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>I.</h2> + +<h2>EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.</h2> + +<p class="center">(1634-1670.)</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span></p> + + +<h3 class="p6">NOTE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>The earliest appearance of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> as a poet was in the University +Collections of Latin Verse on the (then) usual conventional +occasions of royal births and deaths, and the like. These +pieces will be found in their places in the present volume. The +place of honour herein we assign to his own published volume +of 1634, of which the following is the title-page, within a neat +woodcut border:</p> + +<h2>EPIGRAM-<br /> +MATUM<br /> +SACRORUM<br /> +LIBER.</h2> + +<p class="center">University Printer's ornament,<br /> +with legend, 'Hinc. Lvcem. Et.<br /> +Pocula. Sacra.' and 'Alma Mater.'</p> + +<p class="center">Cantabrigiæ,<br /> +Ex Academiæ celeberrimæ<br /> +typographeo. 1634.</p> + + +<p>This is a small duodecimo. Collation: Title-page—Epistle-dedicatory +to <span class="smcap">Lany</span>, with the poems, 'Salve, alme custos Pierii +gregis,' &c.—Venerabili viro Magistro Tournay, Tutori suo +summe observando—Ornatissimo viro Præceptori suo colendissimo, +Magistro Brook—Lectori (verse and prose), seven leaves: +Epigrammata Sacra, pp. 79.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span></p> + +<p>A second edition of this volume appeared in 1670. Its +title-page is as follows:</p> + +<h2>RICHARDI CRASHAWI<br /> +POEMATA<br /> +et<br /> +EPIGRAMMATA,</h2> + +<p class="center">Quæ scripsit Latina & Græca,<br /> +Dum <i>Aulæ Pemb.</i> Alumnus fuit,<br /> +Et<br /> +Collegii <i>Petrensis</i> Socius.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p class="center">Editio Secunda, Auctior & emendatior.</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p class="center"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Εἵνεκεν εὐμαθίης πινυτόφρονος, ἥν ὁ Μελιχρὸς<br /> +Ἤσκησεν, Μουσῶν ἄμμιγα καὶ Χαρίτων. Ἀνθολ.</span><br /> +<br /> +[Printer's ornament, as before.]</p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p class="center">Cantabrigiæ,<br /> +Ex Officina <i>Joan. Hayes</i>, Celeberrimæ Academiæ<br /> +Typographi. 1670.</p> + +<p>This is an 8vo. Collation: Title-page—and to Brook, as +before; then these additional Latin poems: In Picturam Reverendissimi +Episcopi D. Andrews—Votiva Domûs Petrensis +pro Domo Dei—In cæterorum Operum difficili Parturitione +Gemitus—Epitaphium in Gulielmum Herrisium—In Eundem—Natalis +Principis Mariæ—In Serenissimæ Reginæ partum +hyemalem—Natalis Ducis Eboracensis—In faciem Augustiss. +Regis a morbillis integram—Ad Carolum Primum, Rex Redux—Ad +Principem nondum natum, Reginâ gravidâ. Bastard-title,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +'Epigrammata Sacra, quæ scripsit Græca et Latina'—Lectori +(as before), nine leaves: Epigrammata Sacra, pp. 67.</p> + +<p>The additions to the second edition—besides the Latin +poems enumerated—were in the Epigrams these: No. 1, Pharisaeus +et Publicanus, Greek version—No. 11, Obolum Viduæ, +ib.—No. 53, Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus, ib.—No. 120, In +descensum Spiritûs sancti, ib.—No. 124, In S. Columbam ad +Christi caput sedentem, ib.—No. 141, Ad D. Lucam medicum, +ib.—No. 148, In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus, ib.—No. 161, +Hic lapis fiat panis, ib.—No. 177, In die Ascensionis Dominicæ, +ib.—No. 178, Cæcus implorat Christum, Latin and Greek—No. +179, Quis ex vobis, &c. ib.—No. 180, Herodi D. Jacobum +obtruncati, ib.—No. 181, Cæci receptis, &c. ib.—and +No. 182, Zaccheus in sycomoro.</p> + +<p>A third edition was issued in 1674. It is identical with that +of 1670, save in the date on title-page, printer's ornament, and +this line at bottom: 'Prostant venales apud <i>Joann. Creed</i>.' +Probably consisted of 'remainders' of 1670 edition.</p> + +<p>As the edition of 1634 was published during the author's +residence in the University, and so under his own eye, I have +made it the basis of our text, though with a vigilant eye on the +later corrections; but have given from the edition of 1670 the +Greek versions of certain of the Epigrams, and those added +(as above). The Epistle-dedicatory to Lany, and related introductory +poems of 1634, alone, I prefix to the Epigrammata +Sacra, assigning the other poems more fittingly to the Secular +Poems (as annotated in the places). The Editor of the second +edition, 'auctior et emendatior,' has not been transmitted. For +more on the editions of the Epigrammata Sacra, see our Essay +and Notes and Illustrations. As explained in our Prefatory +Note, the translations of the Latin Poemata et Epigrammata, +as of the others, follow the originals successively. A. denotes +the translator to be <span class="smcap">Thomas Ashe</span>, M.A., Ipswich; B., <span class="smcap">Clement +Barksdale</span> (from 'Epigrammata Sacra selecta, cum Anglicâ +Versione. Sacred Epigrams Englished. London: Printed for +John Barksdale, Bookseller in Cirencester. 1682.' 12mo); +<span class="smcap">Cl.</span>, Rev. <span class="smcap">J.H. Clark</span>, M.A., West Dereham, Norfolk; <span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, +<span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> himself; G., myself; W., Rev. <span class="smcap">W. Aris Willmott</span> +(from his 'Lives of the Sacred Poets,' s.n. Crashaw); and +<span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span>, Rev. <span class="smcap">Richard Wilton</span>, M.A., Londesborough Rectory, +Market Weighton. In the present and succeeding division those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> +Epigrams translated by Crashaw himself are given under the +related Latin—all from the original text of 1646, as before. +They consist of Nos. 1, 2, 8, 9, 11, 14, 15, 20, 21, 26, 29, 36, 40, +42, 43, 47, 49, 51, 54 (two), 56, 57, 63, 64, 68, 85, 91, 93, 101, +104, 106, 108, 115, 117, 140, 157, 160, 164, 169, 184, and 185 in +the present, and of Nos. 21, 22, 28, 42, 46, and 55 in next section.</p> + +<p>It only remains that I add here, instead of noticing in their +places, the following more flagrant errors of Turnbull in the +'Epigrammata' and related 'Poemata Latina et Græca.' Similar +lists will be found in the introductory notes to the several +divisions of this volume.</p> + +<p>In the Epistle to Lany, line 18, avidi <i>for</i> avide; line 29, +amore <i>for</i> amare; in the Ode, st. ii. line 1, ipsi <i>for</i> ipse. In +the address 'Lectori,' line 7, abi <i>for</i> alis; line 29, putre <i>for</i> +putri; line 48, mens <i>for</i> meus; line 53, fingit <i>for</i> finget; line 70, +graves <i>for</i> gravis; line 97, tota dropped out; line 120, negat <i>for</i> +neget; in succeeding prose, line 29, Acygmanos <i>for</i> acygnianos.</p> + +<p>The misprints in the Epigrammata are so numerous, that it +is deemed expedient to tabulate them according to our numbering. +On the errors in the Greek, see our Preface to the +present Volume.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="misprints"> +<tr><td align="right">No.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1,</td><td align="left">line 4, ille <i>for</i> hic.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">2,</td><td align="left">heading, Victorem <i>for</i> vectorem.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">3,</td><td align="left">l. 1, ori <i>for</i> oris.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">6,</td><td align="left">l. 2, meæ <i>for</i> mea.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">7,</td><td align="left">l. 4, tanto <i>for</i> tanti.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">8,</td><td align="left">l. 1, vulnere <i>for</i> vulnera.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">10,</td><td align="left">l. 1, tumidus <i>for</i> timidus.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12,</td><td align="left">heading, Luc. x. 30 <i>for</i> x. 39; and so often.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">19,</td><td align="left">l. 4, decas <i>for</i> decus.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">30,</td><td align="left">l. 3, Te ne <i>for</i> Tene.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">31,</td><td align="left">heading, credebunt <i>for</i> credebant.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">44,</td><td align="left">l. 1, tumere <i>for</i> tenuere.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">45,</td><td align="left">l. 2, mala <i>for</i> male.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">48,</td><td align="left">l. 1, Christe <i>for</i> Christi.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">60,</td><td align="left">l. 4, fecere <i>for</i> fuere.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">65,</td><td align="left">l. 7, adnixus <i>for</i> ad nixus.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">67,</td><td align="left">l. 1, Infantes <i>for</i> infantis.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">69,</td><td align="left">heading, meditur <i>for</i> medetur.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">78,</td><td align="left">l. 2, pati <i>for</i> peti.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">101,</td><td align="left">l. 4, aqua <i>for</i> aquas.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">108,</td><td align="left">l. 8, oculos <i>for</i> oculus.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">111,</td><td align="left">l. 3, natalis <i>for</i> natales.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">114,</td><td align="left">l. 2, utere <i>for</i> uteri.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">115,</td><td align="left">l. 4, queas <i>for</i> queat.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">120,</td><td align="left">heading, Domini <i>for</i> Dominicam.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">"</td><td align="left">l. 6, Phœbe <i>for</i> Phœbo.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">122,</td><td align="left">heading, traduit <i>for</i> traderet.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">123,</td><td align="left">l. 2, nescis <i>for</i> nescio.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">125,</td><td align="left">l. 1, volueris <i>for</i> volucris.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">126,</td><td align="left">heading, Divi <i>for</i> Divo.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">132,</td><td align="left">heading, Christo <i>for</i> Christi.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">135,</td><td align="left">heading left out.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">140,</td><td align="left">l. 2, illa <i>for</i> ille.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">149,</td><td align="left">l. 2, quae <i>for</i> qua.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">153,</td><td align="left">l. 3, colubres <i>for</i> colubros.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">155,</td><td align="left">heading, Domini <i>for</i> Dominicæ.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">158,</td><td align="left">l. 3, par <i>for</i> per.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">161,</td><td align="left">l. 8, fieris <i>for</i> fieres.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">"</td><td align="left">l. 12, solis <i>for</i> solio.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">164,</td><td align="left">l. 1, Daemone <i>for</i> Dæmona.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">169,</td><td align="left">heading, lavante <i>for</i> lavanti.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">"</td><td align="left">l. 2, virginea <i>for</i> virgineæ.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">170,</td><td align="left">l. 5, decies <i>for</i> denis.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">172,</td><td align="left">l. 1, vidis <i>for</i> vides.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">176,</td><td align="left">l. 16, dominum <i>for</i> dominam.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">"</td><td align="left">l. 73, ista <i>for</i> iste.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">177,</td><td align="left">l. 20, metu <i>for</i> nutu.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">182,</td><td align="left">l. 2, fide <i>for</i> fida.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The whole of these, with others belonging to Crashaw himself +and his first editors, are carefully corrected in our edition. +G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_n.png" width="550" height="98" alt="Decoration N" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="REVERENDO_ADMODUM_VIRO" id="REVERENDO_ADMODUM_VIRO"></a><small>REVERENDO ADMODUM VIRO</small><br /> + +BENJAMINO LANY,<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a><br /> + +<small><small>SS. THEOLOGIAE PROFESSORI, AULAE PEMBROCHIANAE CUSTODI +DIGNISSIMO, EX SUORUM MINIMIS MINIMUS,</small><br /> + +R. C[RASHAW]<br /> + +<small>CUSTODIAM COELESTEM<br /> + +P.</small></small></h2> + + +<p>Suus est et florum fructus; quibus fruimur, si non +utilius, delicatius certe. Neque etiam rarum est quod +ad spem Veris, de se per flores suos quasi pollicentis, +adultioris anni, ipsiusque adeo Autumni exigamus fidem. +Ignoscas igitur, vir colendissime, properanti sub ora +Apollinis sui, primaeque adolescentiae lascivia exultanti +Musae. Tenerae aetatis flores adfert, non fructus serae: +quos quidem exigere ad seram illam et sobriam maturitatem, +quam in fructibus expectamus merito, durum +fuerit; forsan et ipsa hac praecoci importunitate sua +placituros magis: tibi praesertim quem paternus animus, +quod fieri solet, intentum tenet omni suae spei +diluculo, quo tibi de tuorum indole promittas aliquid. +Ex more etiam eorum, qui in praemium laboris sui pretiumque<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +patientiae festini, ex iis quae severunt ipsi et +excoluerunt, quicquid est flosculi prominulum, prima +quasi verecundia auras et apertum Jovem experientis +arripiunt avide, saporemque illi non tam ex ipsius indole +et ingenio quam ex animi sui affectu, foventis in +eo curas suas et spes, affingunt. Patere igitur, reverende +custos, hanc tibi ex istiusmodi floribus corollam +necti; convivalem vero: nec aliter passuram sidus illud +oris tui auspicatissimum, nisi, qua est etiam amoenitate, +remissiore radio cum se reclinat, et in tantum de se +demit. Neque sane hoc scriptionis genere, modo partes +suas satis praestiterit, quid esse potuit otio theologico +accommodatius, quo nimirum res ipsa theologica poetica +amoenitate delinita majestatem suam venustate commendat. +Hoc demum quicquid est, amare tamen poteris, +et voles, scio: non ut magnum quid, non ut egregium, +non ut te dignum denique, sed ut tuum: tuum summo +jure, utpote quod e tua gleba, per tuum radium, in manum +denique tuam evocatum fuerit. Quod restat hujus +libelli fatis, exorandus es igitur, vir spectatissime, ut +quem sinu tum facili privatum excepisti, eum jam ore +magis publico alloquentem te non asperneris. Stes illi +in limine, non auspicium modo suum, sed et argumentum. +Enimvero Epigramma sacrum tuus ille vultus +vel est, vel quid sit docet; ubi nimirum amabili diluitur +severum, et sanctum suavi demulcetur. Pronum +me vides in negatam mihi provinciam; laudum tuarum, +intelligo: quas mihi cum modestia tua abstulerit, reliquum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +mihi est necessario ut sim brevis; imo vero +longus nimium; utpote cui argumentum istud abscissum +fuerit, in quo unice poteram, et sine taedio, prolixus +esse. Vale, virorum ornatissime, neque dedigneris +quod colere audeam Genii tui serenitatem supplex tam +tenuis, et, quoniam numen quoque hoc de se non negat, +amare etiam. Interim vero da veniam Musae in +tantum sibi non temperanti; quin in hanc saltem laudis +tuae partem, quae tibi ex rebus sacris apud nos ornatis +meritissima est, istiusmodi carmine involare ausa sit, +qualicunque:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per quem erudito exhalat in otio;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu frigus udi captet antri,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sive Jovem nitidosque soles.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non ipse custos pulchrior invias<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Egit sub umbras Aemonios greges;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non ipse Apollo notus illis<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Lege suae meliore cannae.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu, si sereno des oculo frui,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunt rura nobis, sunt juga, sunt aquae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunt plectra dulcium sororum<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(Non alio mihi nota Phoebo).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Te dante, castos composuit sinus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te dante, mores sumpsit; et in suo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Videnda vultu, pulveremque<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Relligio cineremque nescit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stat cincta digna fronde decens caput:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suosque per te fassa palam Deos,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comisque, Diva, vestibusque<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ingenium dedit ordinemque.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jamque ecce nobis amplior es modo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Majorque cerni. Quale jubar tremit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sub os! verecundusque quanta<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mole sui Genius laborat!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam qui serenas it tibi per genas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Majore coelo sidus habet suum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Majorque circum cuspidatae<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ora comis tua flos diei.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stat causa. Nempe hanc ipse Deus, Deus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hanc ara, per te pulchra, diem tibi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tuam refundit, obvioque<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It radio tibi se colenti.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce, ecce! sacro in limine, dum pio<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Multumque prono poplite amas humum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Altaria annuunt ab alto;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Et refluis tibi plaudit alis<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pulchro incalescens officio, puer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quicunque crispo sidere crinium,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vultuque non fatente terram,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Currit ibi roseus satelles.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Et jure. Nam cum fana tot inviis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moerent ruinis, ipsaque, ceu preces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Manusque non decora supplex<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Tendat, opem rogat, heu negatam!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tibi ipsa voti est ora sui rea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et solvet. O quam semper apud Deum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Litabis illum, cujus arae<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ipse preces prius audiisti!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">[TRANSLATION. Prose G.; verse <span class="smcap">Cl.</span>]</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>To the very reverend man</i> <span class="smcap">Benjamin Lany</span>, <i>Doctor of Divinity, +most worthy Master of Pembroke College [Cambridge], +the least of the least of those that are his, +R[ichard] C[rashaw] implores the divine protection.</i><a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></p></blockquote> + +<p>Even flowers have their own peculiar fruit, which +we enjoy, if not so profitably, yet in a manner more +refined. Nor is it unusual that, in accordance with +the hope of Spring, making promises for herself as it +were by her flowers, we demand credit for the maturer +year, and even for Autumn itself. Forgive, then, most +Reverend Sir, the Muse hastening into the presence +of her Apollo, and exulting in the wantonness of earliest +youth. She offers the flowers of a tender age, +not the fruits of a late one, which flowers indeed it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> +were unreasonable to demand in accordance with that +late and sober maturity which we rightly look for in +fruits—flowers which are more likely to be pleasing +from the very fact of their precocious importunity,—to +thee above all, whom a fatherly mind, as it is wont to +happen, holds watching for every dawning of its hope, +by which you may give yourself assurance of anything +respecting the genius of your sons; after the manner +also of those who, in haste for the reward of their +labour and the price of their patience, from what they +have themselves sown and tended, snatch greedily +whatever part may project a little of a floweret, which, +as with early bashfulness, is making trial of the airs +and the open sky, and attach an odour to it, not so +much from its own nature and character as from the +inclination of their own mind, which fosters in it their +own anxieties and hopes. Suffer then, Reverend Master, +this little garland, made of flowers of such a sort, to +be bound on thee; a festal one assuredly, and not able +to endure that most auspicious star of thy countenance +in any other way than—for it is even of such a graciousness—when +it draws back with milder ray, and so +far subtracts from itself. Nor assuredly than this kind +of writing, provided it have sufficiently discharged its +proper functions, could anything be more suitable to +theological leisure; for in it without doubt the very +substance of theology being overlaid with poetic grace, +sets off its grandeur by loveliness. Finally, whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +this may be, you will nevertheless, I know, be able and +willing to be lovingly disposed towards it; not as anything +great or uncommon; not, in short, as anything +worthy of you, but as your own—your own by highest +right as having been called forth from your soil, by +your light, and, in fine, into your hand. As for what +fortune awaits this little book, deign to be persuaded, +most worshipful Sir, not to scorn when addressing you +now in a more public style him whom you have welcomed +in private with so ready an affection. May you +stand on its threshold, not only as its good omen but +also as its subject! In very truth that countenance of +yours is a Sacred Epigram, or teaches what it should +be, where forsooth severity is tempered with love, and +sanctity is mellowed by sweetness. You see me inclined +towards a sphere denied to me—that of sounding +your praises, I mean; which since your modesty has +taken from me, it remains of necessity that I should be +brief: yes indeed, I am too diffuse, seeing that the very +subject is cut off from me in which alone I was, and +even without irksomeness, able to be prolix. Farewell, +most cultured of men, and do not disdain me, so insignificant +a suppliant, for daring to honour your tranquil +genius, and, since divinity even does not forbid this +respecting itself, also to love it. But in the mean +while give pardon to the Muse, to such a degree unrestrained +as to have dared for this part at least of +your praise, which is most due to you on account of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +sacred things that have been honoured amongst us, to +fly towards you with a strain of such kind as this, +whatever it may be:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kind Guardian of the Muses' flock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through whom it breathes in learn'd repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether it choose the dripping rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or where the open sunshine glows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not fairer he through trackless shade<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who led Æmonia's flocks of old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not even Apollo, when he play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With defter touch could charm the fold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If thou the eye serene dost grant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Green fields are ours, and streams and hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, since no Phœbus else we want,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Muses with their dulcet quills.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Religion too with modest grace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through thee assumes a gentler mien;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through thee again can show her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No more in dust and ashes seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her brows crown'd meetly, and, through thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her God in sight of all confess'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gives in her divinity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meaning and law to garb and vest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, while we gaze, an ample state<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Adorns thee; what a lustrous sheen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plays on thy lips! with what a weight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy reverent Genius toils within!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For him on whom thy calm glance flows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His star sheds down a fuller ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light that o'er thine aspect glows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is brighter than the shafts of Day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there is cause. The Lord of heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose altar thou hast made so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pours back the light that thou hast given,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With glory meets His worshipper.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, on the threshold of thy God<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While thou dost stoop on bended knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The altar from on high doth nod,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its plausive wings are bent to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, glowing with his duty's worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each starry-tressèd chorister<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With look that savours not of earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tends like a rosy cherub there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rightly. For, when ruin-wreck'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With prayers and outstretch'd hands the fane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bemoan'd itself in all neglect,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sought elsewhere for help in vain,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To thee by its own vows 'tis bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And now repays thee. At the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose cry so well thy ears hath found<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long, long may prayer and praise be thine!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_o.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration O" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="LECTORI" id="LECTORI"></a>LECTORI.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Salve. Jamque vale. Quid enim quis pergeret ultra?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua jocus et lusus non vocat, ire voles?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hic, Lector, cur noster habebere, non est;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deliciis folio non faciente tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam nec Acidalios halat mihi pagina rores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nostra Cupidineae nec favet aura faci.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frustra hinc ille suis quicquam promiserit alis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frustra hinc illa novo speret abire sinu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille e materna melius sibi talia myrto;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illa jugis melius poscat ab Idaliis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quaerat ibi suus in quo cespite surgat Adonis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae melior teneris patria sit violis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illinc totius Florae, verisque, suique<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Consilio, ille alas impleat, illa sinus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me mea, casta tamen, si sit rudis, herba coronet:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Me mea, si rudis est, sit rudis, herba juvat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nulla meo Circaea tument tibi pocula versu:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dulcia, et in furias officiosa tuas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nulla latet Lethe, quam fraus tibi florea libat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam rosa sub falsis dat malefida genis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nulla verecundum mentitur mella venenum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Captat ab insidiis linea nulla suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et spleni, et jecori foliis bene parcitur istis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, male cum rebus staret utrumque meis!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rara est quae ridet, nulla est quae pagina prurit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nulla salax, si quid norit habere salis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non nudae Veneres, nec, si jocus, udus habetur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non nimium Bacchus noster Apollo fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil cui quis putri sit detorquendus ocello;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est nihil obliquo quod velit ore legi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec coram atque oculis legeret Lucretia justis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Iret et illaesis hinc pudor ipse genis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam neque candidior voti venit aura pudici<br /></span> +<span class="i1">De matutina virgine thura ferens:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum vestis nive vincta sinus, nive tempora fulgens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dans nive flammeolis frigida jura comis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Religiosa pedum sensim vestigia librans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ante aras tandem constitit, et tremuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec gravis ipsa suo sub numine castior halat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae pia non puras summovet ara manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam Venus in nostro non est nimis aurea versu:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam non sunt pueri tela timenda dei.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe puer dubias circum me moverat alas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jecit et incertas nostra sub ora faces;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe vel ipse sua calamum mihi blandus ab ala,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vel matris cygno de meliore dedit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe Dionaeae pactus mihi serta coronae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saepe: Meus vates tu, mihi dixit, eris.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I procul, i cum matre tua, puer improbe, dixi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non tibi cum numeris res erit ulla meis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu Veronensi cum passere pulchrior ibis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bilbilicisve queas comptius esse modis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille tuos finget quocunque sub agmine crines:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Undique nequitiis par erit ille tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille nimis, dixi, patet in tua proelia campus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heu, nimis est vates et nimis ille tuus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleba illa, ah, tua quam tamen urit adultera messis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esset Idumaeo germine quanta parens!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quantus ibi et quantae premeret puer ubera matris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec coelos vultu dissimulante suos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ejus in isto oculi satis essent sidera versu;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sidereo matris quam bene tuta sinu!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Matris ut hic similes in collum mitteret ulnas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque sinus niveos pergeret, ore pari;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Utque genis pueri haec aequis daret oscula labris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et bene cognatis iret in ora rosis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae Mariae tam larga meat, quam disceret illic<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Uvida sub pretio gemma tumere suo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staret ibi ante suum lacrymatrix Diva Magistrum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seu levis aura volet, seu gravis unda cadat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luminis haec soboles, et proles pyxidis illa,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pulchrius unda cadat, suavius aura volet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quicquid in his sordet demum, luceret in illis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Improbe, nec satis est hunc tamen esse tuum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbe, cede, puer: quid enim mea carmina mulces?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Carmina de jaculis muta futura tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cede, puer, qua te petulantis fraena puellae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turpia quae revocant pensa procacis herae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qua miseri male pulchra nitent mendacia limi;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua cerussatae, furta decora, genae;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qua mirere rosas, alieni sidera veris;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quas nivis haud propriae bruma redempta domat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cede, puer, dixi et dico; cede, improba mater:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Altera Cypris habet nos; habet alter Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hic Amor est; hic est quoque mater Amoris.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sed Mater virgo; sed neque caecus Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Puer! ô Domine! ô magnae reverentia Matris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alme tui stupor et relligio gremii!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Amor, innocuae cui sunt pia jura pharetrae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec nisi de casto corde sagitta calens!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me, Puer, ô certa, quem figis, fige sagitta;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O tua de me sit facta pharetra levis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quodque illinc sitit et bibit, et bibit et sitit usque;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Usque meum sitiat pectus, et usque bibat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fige, Puer, corda haec. Seu spinis exiguus quis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seu clavi aut hastae cuspide magnus ades;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu major cruce cum tota; seu maximus ipso<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Te corda haec figis denique; fige, Puer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O metam hanc tuus aeternum inclamaverit arcus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stridat in hanc teli densior aura tui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O tibi si jaculum ferat ala ferocior ullum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hanc habeat triti vulneris ire viam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quique tuae populus cunque est, quae turba, pharetrae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic bene vulnificas nidus habebit aves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O mihi sis bello semper tam saevus in isto!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pectus in hoc nunquam mitior hostis eas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe ego quam jaceam pugna bene sparsus in illa!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam bene sic lacero pectore sanus ero!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec mea vota. Mei sunt haec quoque vota libelli.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec tua sint, Lector, si meus esse voles.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si meus esse voles, meus ut sis, lumina, Lector,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Casta, sed ô nimium non tibi sicca, precor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam tibi fac madidis meus ille occurrerit alis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sanguine, seu lacryma diffluat ille sua:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stipite totus hians, clavisque reclusus, et hasta:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fons tuus in fluvios desidiosus erit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si tibi sanguineo meus hic tener iverit amne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tune tuas illi, dure, negabis aquas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah durus! quicunque meos, nisi siccus, amores<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nolit, et hic lacrymae rem neget esse suae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe hic Magdalinas vel aquas vel amaverit undas;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credo nec Assyrias mens tua malit opes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet ille tuos ignis recalescet ad ignes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forsan et illa tuis unda natabit aquis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic eris ad cunas, et odoros funere manes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc ignes nasci testis, et inde meos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic mecum, et cum matre sua, mea gaudia quaeres:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Maturus Procerum seu stupor esse velit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sive per antra sui lateat, tunc templa, sepulchri:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tertia lux reducem, lenta sed illa, dabit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sint fidae precor, ah, dices, facilesque tenebrae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lux mea dum noctis, res nova! poscit opem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Denique charta meo quicquid mea dicat amori,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illi quo metuat cunque, fleatve, modo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laeta parum, dices, haec, sed neque dulcia non sunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Certe et amor, dices, hujus amandus erat.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Si nimium hic promitti tibi videtur, Lector bone, +pro eo cui satisfaciendo libellus iste futurus fuerit; scias +me in istis non ad haec modo spectare quae hic habes, +sed ea etiam quae olim, haec interim fovendo, habere +poteris. Nolui enim, si hactenus deesse amicis meis +non potui, flagitantibus a me, etiam cum dispendii +sui periculo, paterer eos experiri te in tantum favorem +tuum, nolui, inquam, fastidio tuo indulgere. Satis hic +habes quod vel releges ad ferulam suam, neque enim +maturiores sibi annos ex his aliqua vendicant, vel ut +pignus plurium adultiorumque in sinu tuo reponas. +Elige tibi ex his utrumvis. Me interim quod attinet, +finis meus non fefellit. Maximum meae ambitionis +scopum jamdudum attigi: tunc nimirum cum quale-cunque +hoc meum pene infantis Musae murmur ad +aures istas non ingratum sonuit, quibus neque doctiores +mihi de publico timere habeo, nec sperare clementiores; +adeo ut de tuo jam plausu, dicam ingenue et breviter, +neque securus sim ultra neque solicitus. Prius tui, quisquis +es, Lector, apud me reverentia prohibet; de cujus +judicio omnia possum magna sperare: posterius illorum +reverentia non sinit, de quorum perspicacitate maxima +omnia non possum mihi non persuadere. Quanquam +ô quam velim tanti me esse in quo patria mea morem +istum suum deponere velit, genio suo tam non dignum; +istum scilicet quo, suis omnibus fastiditis, ea exosculatur +unice, quibus trajecisse Alpes et de transmarino esse, +in pretium cessit! Sed relictis hisce, nimis improbae<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +spei votis, convertam me ad magistros acygnianos; quos +scio de novissimis meis verbis, quanquam neminem +nominarim, iratos me reliquisse: bilem vero componant; +et mihi se hoc debere, ambitioso juveni verbum +tam magnum ignoscant—debere, inquam, fateantur: +quod nimirum in tam nobili argumento, in quo neque +ad foetida de suis sanctis figmenta, neque ad putidas +de nostris calumnias opus habeant confugere, de tenui +hoc meo dederim illorum magnitudini unde emineat. +Emineat vero; serius dico, sciantque me semper se +habituros esse sub ea, quam mihi eorum lux major +affuderit, umbra, placidissime acquiescentem.</p> + + +<p class="center">[TRANSLATION. Verse and Prose, G.]</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">To the Reader.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Greeting,' Reader; and now 'farewell'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore shouldst thou on my page dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where neither jest nor sport inviteth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the jocund youth delighteth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore, Reader, pass thee by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thine own idle jollity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The notes that trill from my poor lute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as thee shall never suit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor here are Acidalian dews<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Venus' roses sweet suffuse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor breath sets Cupid's torch a-blaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lovers on my lines may gaze.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly shall mother and shall son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look here for lewd emotion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cupid, seek thy mother's kirtle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hide thee 'neath her fragrant myrtle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, Venus, thy Idalian hills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will better yield thee sport that thrills:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither, therefore, goddess, turn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er thy lost Adonis burn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or devise, if grief thee frets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Other shrines for thy violets:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, with Flora and the Spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green earth enamelling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mayst fill thy bosom's whiteness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He his wings in all their brightness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all flow'rs that wait on thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thou holdest revelry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me my own poor flow'r will crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor 'tis true, yet all my own—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor but pure. So let it be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those unto others, this to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No Circe-cup foams in my verse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make fierce lustings still more fierce;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No draft of Lethe here doth flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flow'ry above, deathly below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No false cheeks, with falser bloom—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rose up-bursting from a tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No barb hid 'neath treach'rous plume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No poison spread as honey'd bait;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No line where danger lies in wait:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's nor spleen nor melancholy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for me were unmeet wholly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rarely do I raise a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er merge my wit in wanton wile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never quicken Passion's pulse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor show nude Beauty to convulse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until beneath the hoof o' th' flesh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strong man bound is in Lust's mesh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If jest I pass, do not repine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To learn it reeks not of the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my Apollo is celestial,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from Bacchus shrinks as bestial.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing that's foul my page contains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing the modest eye arraigns;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing to cause averted face—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucretia every line might trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With calm, serene, unfearing eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor blush stain cheek of Modesty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For not more pure the maiden's vow<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper'd in tremulous words and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, girt in snowy robe, her breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaves like a wave in sweet unrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the white veil shows whiter brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pureness of unfallen snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flame-gleam from meek-droppèd hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dishevell'd by the am'rous air:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft strains with her soft voice blending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marriage-rites to heaven ascending:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, not the altar's self exhaleth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More chastely, as its God it haileth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That keeps far off unholy hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While there the priest with bow'd head stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My verse is not the Queen of Love's,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knows the cooing of her doves:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her beauty me not overpowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though bright as skies when no cloud low'rs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly at me her tricksy boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arrows shoots. The sweet annoy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never felt; though oft and oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hover'd o'er me, and with soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sly, 'luring glances his torch wav'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And look'd to find me swift enslav'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offer'd a quill from his own wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en from his mother's swan—to sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, often Venus' love-wreaths weaving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my brow the symbol leaving:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would laugh, and Poet style me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with flatteries beguile me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Begone, begone, O wanton boy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy mother too, though Queen of Joy.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus did I speak. Naught of my song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall thy tyranny prolong:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get thee, with thy torch and arrow,<br /></span> +<span class="sidenote">Catullus</span> +<span class="i0">Unto the Veronian sparrow; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="sidenote">Martial</span> +<span class="i0">Or the Bilbilician win <br /></span> +<span class="i0">To embalm thy pleasant sin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thy assaults however vile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He on thee will smile, and smile:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He, thy love-locks curious twining,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall ne'er come short of thy inclining:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thine own poet is, and will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give thee full license to instill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By jest and quip and jollity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er it listeth thee to try.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, that genius so august<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should pander to adult'rous lust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, that he, poet so true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should poet be, Cupid, to you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, what harvest of rich thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judean seed from him had brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, up-climbing holy mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had drunk from hallow'd fountains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother and son, I see them now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As round her neck his arms he'd throw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nestling with his azure eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her bosom's splendour for his skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissing, and kiss'd in sweet reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As soft winds o'er violets die:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she all her love discloses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murm'ring on his lips' twin roses:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lips like hers, and hers like his,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glued i' the rapture of their bliss.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Visions like these would Martial give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dainty touch and fugitive.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heav'nly Weeper there would bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her Lord, and pay her vow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now is uttered gentle sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now great tears gleam in her eye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, offspring of the stainless Light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, of the Pyx's mystic rite:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his verse, tears, sighs should fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delicate and musical:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fine, whate'er in mine were mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should radiant grow as sunlight's sheen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, then, go, insatiate boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor me longer seek t' annoy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've said it, nor shall e'er unsay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go to thy mother, and there play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why wilt thou whisper flattery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And praise my Muse's witchery—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verses that reck not of thy smarts—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smite me with thy fire-tipp'd darts?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, get thee gone! Thy haunt must be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where there's wanton revelry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the young minx with toss o' curls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opes her lips to show her pearls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opes her lips, with some gross jest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A foolish lover to arrest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither go, where falsely-fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty is bought and sold; and where,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flaunting with painted cheek, and eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-flame to ev'ry devilry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Base women seek base men, and tingle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hot veins as they commingle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baring their charms, 'neath alien roses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ministering such sweets as Hell composes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence, therefore, Cupid! Venus, hence!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I yield not to your violence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've said it, nor shall you allure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart to own your sway impure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another Cypris holds me now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another Love receives my vow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Love is here and Mother kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she a Virgin; He not blind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Child! O Lord! great Mother blest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wonder of thy holy breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Love, whose quiver's sacred pow'rs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er send forth arrow that devours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless a shaft pierce the pure heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Thou mayst heal the blessèd smart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me whom Thou piercest, holy Child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pierce, pierce me sure with arrows mild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Thy quiver grow more light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Thou dost me yearning smite:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What my soul pants for, and still drinks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drinks, and thirsts, and never thinks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To get enough, O give, still give.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus would I die; thus would I live.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transfix this heart, Child: howsoe'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou comest,—crown'd with thorns and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or great with the awful heraldry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of nail and spear for Faith to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or greater still, on the holy rood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wet with the terror of Thy Blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or great'st of all, Thyself alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In meek might of Thy Passion,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still pierce this heart; O pierce it, Child:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thus</i> would I drink in rapture wild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that Thy bow might wound me still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that of wounds I had my fill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if some swifter wing there be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it would fly to me—to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, my Saviour, this poor breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take it as Thine arrows' nest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seek not to be spar'd one blow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus would I have Thee still my foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still yearn that wounded I may be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wounds like these are ecstasy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These are my wishes: and my Books,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May they be his who on them looks!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seek'st, Reader, to be mine? Then, last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ask thy eyes that they be chaste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chaste, but not tearless; my dear Love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet and know, as from above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes, and still the Crucified,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaiming how for man He died<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thorn, and nail, and spear, and cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bitterest words of agony:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, should He meet thee thus in blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couldst thou e'en grudge of tears a flood?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, hard thy heart as e'er was stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all unmov'd can hear Him groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor by a throb of feeling show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast a sense of His great woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While here He treasured human tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hushing sad Mary in her fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to His feet in shame she crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with white drops them all bewept:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than Assyrian gold to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such tears, if thou their worth couldst see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His love with thine again will glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tears afresh with thine will flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, Reader, glancing through my Book,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt upon His cradle look:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To His sweet obsequies now turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mark how still my love shall burn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, with His Mother and with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My ceaseless sacred joys shalt see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether Earth's Princes speechless stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sudden darkness wraps the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or He lies hidden in the Cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A temple now, and not a grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the third morning shall restore Him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, much too slow those days pass o'er Him!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be true, ye shadows of the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enfold Him in a kindly gloom:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus wilt thou pray; while my dear Light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(O strange!) demands the help of Night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fine, whate'er my Book shall say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my dear Love—however pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">However fear, however weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with sweet tears its pages steep—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My words thy willing words will move.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'O, not enough these things I love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they are sweet all things above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And certainly the love of Him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserves all other loves to dim.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>If it seem to you, good Reader, that I have promised +overmuch on behalf of him to whom this tractate +shall be pleasing, know that I do not look merely on +those things which you possess here, but also on those +which, by cherishing such as you now have, you may +hereafter obtain; for I have been unwilling, if hitherto +I have not been a-wanting to my friends earnestly entreating +me that I should allow them, even at the risk +of their own peril, to encroach on your good-will, +however great—I have been unwilling, I say, to give +myself up to your fastidious criticism. You have enough +here either to hand over to the rod which it deserves +(for none of these things ask or claim for themselves +maturer years), or to lay it up in your bosom as a pledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +of more and of advanced attempts. Choose for yourself +an alternative. As for myself, my aim has not deceived +me. I have already attained the utmost pinnacle of my +ambition, at the time when this somewhat indifferent +murmur of my almost-infantine Muse sounded not unmusically +in those ears, than which from the world at +large I have none more learned to fear, none more indulgent +to hope for; so that, as regards your applause, +I will speak candidly and at once: I am neither over-confident +nor over-solicitous of it. Firstly, my respect +for you, Reader, whoever you are, and of whose decision +I can hope everything, restrains; and next, my +respect for those of whose penetration I am unable not +to persuade myself to hope the greatest things. Yet +still, how I do wish that I were of service whenever +my Country desires to cast aside its own particular +custom, so unworthy its own worth—that custom particularly +by which, all her own things being despised, +she only prizes those things to which having crossed +the Alps and lived over the sea has given a value! +But these wishes of too rash hope being put aside, let +me turn to the acygnian gentlemen, whom I know—although +I shall name none personally—to have angrily +abandoned me on account of some of my recent sayings. +Still, let them compose their temper, and let them confess—may +they pardon such a great saying from a forward +young man!—I say, let them confess that they +owe me this: that, in truth, in so grand an argument,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +in which they have not recourse to the stale untruths +concerning their own services, nor to the nauseous +calumnies concerning ours. With regard to this slight +statement of mine, I have yielded to the importance of +those from whence it springs. And let it spring, forsooth! +I speak seriously—and let them know that +they will always find me most tranquilly reposing under +that shadow which their greater light has cast around +me!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></p> +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_k.png" width="200" height="195" alt="Decoration K" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span></p> +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="EPIGRAMMATA_SACRA" id="EPIGRAMMATA_SACRA"></a>EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_1" id="V1_1_1"></a>I.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pharisaeus et Publicanus.</i> Luc. xviii. 14-19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En duo templum adeunt, diversis mentibus ambo.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille procul trepido lumine signat humum:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gravis hic, et in alta ferox penetralia tendit.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plus habet hic templi; plus habet ille Dei.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἄνδρες, ἰδοὺ, ἑτέροισι νόοις, δύω ἱρὸν ἐσῆλθον.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Τηλόθεν ὀῤῥωδεῖ κεῖνος ὁ φρικαλέος·</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλ' ὁ μὲν ὡς σοβαρὸς νηοῦ μυχὸν ἐγγὺς ἱκάνει·</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πλεῖον ὁ μὲν νηοῦ, πλεῖον ὁ δ' εἶχε Θεοῦ.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Two went up into the Temple to pray.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two went to pray! O, rather say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One went to brag, th' other to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One stands up close, and treads on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where th' other dares not send his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One neerer to God's altar trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other to the altar's God. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two men unto the Temple went to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, with a downcast look, stood far away;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, near the altar, himself highly bore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This of the Temple, that of God hath more. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_2" id="V1_1_2"></a>II.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In asinum Christi vectorem.</i> Matt. xxi. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> suum didicit quondam objurgare magistrum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et quid ni discas tu celebrare tuum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mirum non minus est, te jam potuisse tacere,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illum quam fuerat tum potuisse loqui.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon the asse that bore our Saviour.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hath only Anger an omnipotence<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In eloquence?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the lips of Love and Joy doth dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i10">No miracle?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why else had Balaam's asse a tongue to chide<br /></span> +<span class="i10">His master's pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne're a word<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To praise thy Lord?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Was a great wonder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, methinkes, 'tis a farre greater one<br /></span> +<span class="i10">That thou find'st none. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">MORE CLOSELY.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ass of old had power to chide its wilful lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hast not thou the power to speak one praiseful word?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less a marvel, sure, this silence is in thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that the ass of old to speak had liberty. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_3" id="V1_1_3"></a>III.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dominus apud suos vilis.</i> Luc. iv. 28-29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En consanguinei! patriis en exul in oris<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christus! et haud alibi tam peregrinus erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qui socio demum pendebat sanguine latro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O consanguineus quam fuit ille magis!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, O my kinsmen, what strange thing is this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ in's own country a great stranger is.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thief which bled upon the Cross with Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was more ally'd in consanguinity.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_4" id="V1_1_4"></a>IV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad Bethesdae piscinam positus.</i> Joan. v. 1-16.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quis novus hic refugis incumbit Tantalus undis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quem fallit toties tam fugitiva salus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unde hoc naufragium felix medicaeque procellae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vitaque tempestas quam pretiosa dedit?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What Tantalus is this, who health still craves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So oft, yet vainly, from the refluent waves?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whence this happy wreck, this healing strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This storm that drifts its victim into life? <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What new Tantalus is here,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Couch'd by this swift-ebbing wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom the healing flood comes near,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then retiring fails to save?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, what happy shipwreck this,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a cure by conflict wrought!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange that woe should thus win bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From disaster life be brought! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_5" id="V1_1_5"></a>V.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus ad Thomam.</i> Joan. xx. 26-29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saeva fides, voluisse meos tractare dolores!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crudeles digiti, sic didicisse Deum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vulnera ne dubites, vis tangere nostra: sed, eheu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vulnera, dum dubitas, tu graviora facis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ to Thomas.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Harsh faith, and wouldst thou probe these signs of woe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O cruel fingers, would ye prove God so?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch them, lest thou shouldst doubt? Then have thy will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ah, thy doubting makes them deeper still. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O cruel faith, afresh my pangs to move!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ruthless fingers, thus their Lord to prove!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, touch the wounds; doubt not; but with such doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou makest all those wounds afresh gush out. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_6" id="V1_1_6"></a>VI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quisquis perdiderit animam suam mea causa inveniet eam.</i> +Matt. xvi. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, vita, i, perdam: mihi mors tua, Christe, reperta est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mors tua vita mea est; mors tibi vita mea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aut ego te abscondam Christi, mea vita, sepulchro:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non adeo procul est tertius ille dies.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Away, my life! Lord Christ, I have Thy death:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My life's Thy death, and Thy death gives me breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But come, my life, I'll hide thee in His tomb:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The third day hence is not so long to come. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_7" id="V1_1_7"></a>VII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Primo mane venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena.</i> Joan. xx. 1.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu matutinos praevertis, sancta, rubores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Magdala; sed jam tum Sol tuus ortus erat.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jamque vetus merito vanos sol non agit ortus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et tanti radios non putat esse suos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe aliquo, reor, ille novus jam nictat in astro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et se nocturna parvus habet facula.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam velit ô tantae vel nuntius esse diei,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque novus Soli Lucifer ire novo!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>[Mary] Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto +the sepulchre.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou holy Magdalene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere rosy morn was seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Awokest; but e'en then<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thy Sun was in thy ken.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now the great olden sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rising as wont upon<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The earth, is wilderèd<br /></span> +<span class="i6">With new beams round him shed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, as a star he seems,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or torch with nigh-quench'd beams;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Keeping himself still small<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Before the Lord of All.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How well might'st thou, O Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Submit to be outshone,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And, as a morning-star,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Herald One grander far! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_8" id="V1_1_8"></a>VIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quinque panes ad quinque hominum millia.</i> Joan. vi. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En mensae faciles, redivivaque vulnera coenae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeque indefessa provocat ora dape!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aucta Ceres stupet arcana se crescere messe.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Denique quid restat? Pascitur ipse cibus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the miracle of multiplyed loaves.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See here an easie feast that knows no wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That under Hunger's teeth will needs be found;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A subtle harvest of unbounded bread:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What would ye more? Here Food itselfe is fed. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eas'ly-furnish'd table!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And feast increas'd by eating:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Still the mouth entreating.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bread itself, unable<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To tell whence it flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Finds it most surely grows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Finds itself guest—no fable!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whence is the mystic dower?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From Him Who is all power. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_9" id="V1_1_9"></a>IX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Æthiops lotus.</i> Act. viii. 38.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille niger sacris exit, quam lautus! ab undis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec frustra Æthiopem nempe lavare fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mentem quam niveam piceae cutis umbra fovebit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam volet et nigros sancta Columba lares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the baptized Ethiopian.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let it no longer be a forlorne hope<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To wash an Ethiope:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's washt; his gloomy skin a peacefull shade<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For his white soule is made:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, I doubt not, the Eternall Dove<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A black-fac'd house will love. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How fair this Ethiop comes from th' holy fount!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wash a Black we may not vain account.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How bright a soul is in a cloudy skin!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dove now loves a black house to dwell in. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_10" id="V1_1_10"></a>X.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Publicanus procul stans percutiebat pectus suum.</i> Luc. xviii. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce hic peccator timidus petit advena templum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quodque audet solum, pectora moesta ferit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fide miser; pulsaque fores has fortiter: illo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invenies templo tu propiore Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The publican standing afar off smote on his breast.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, a sinner, timid stranger,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stranger to the Lord our God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeks, in consciousness of danger,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where to leave sin's awful load.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to the Temple now is come,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow'd in dread beside the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pallid lips, behold, are dumb;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He smites his bosom, dares no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, distress'd one, smite thee there<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In <i>that</i> temple, God is near. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_11" id="V1_1_11"></a>XI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>[In] obolum viduae.</i> Marc. xii. 44.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gutta brevis nummi, vitae patrona senilis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">E digitis stillat non dubitantis anus;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis multa vagi spumant de gurgite census:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Isti abjecerunt scilicet; illa dedit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Κερματίοιο βραχεῖα ῥανὶς, βιότοιό τ' ἀφαυρῆς<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἕρκος, ἀποστάζει χειρὸς ἀπὸ τρομερᾶς.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Τοῖς δὲ ἀνασκιρτᾷ πολὺς ἀφρὸς ἀναιδέος ὄλβου.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">οἱ μὲν ἀπέῤῥιπτον· κεῖνα δέδωκε μόνον.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The widow's mites.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two mites, two drops—yet all her house and land—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falle from a steady heart though trembling hand:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The others' wanton wealth foams high and brave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other cast away; she only gave. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_12" id="V1_1_12"></a>XII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Maria vero assidens ad pedes ejus audiebat eum.</i> Luc. x. 39.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aspice, namque novum est, ut ab hospite pendeat hospes!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc ori parat, hoc sumit ab ore cibos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune epulis adeo es, soror, officiosa juvandis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et sinis has, inquit, Martha, perire dapes?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold, a new thing here—host hanging on her Guest!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Preparing for His mouth, His mouth's words are her feast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Martha sister, spare thy labour and thy cost:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tending the food that perisheth, diviner food is lost. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_13" id="V1_1_13"></a>XIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Spiritus Sancti descensum.</i> Act. ii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ferte sinus, ô, ferte: cadit vindemia coeli,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sanctaque ab aethereis volvitur uva jugis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felices nimium, queis tam bona musta bibuntur;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In quorum gremium lucida pergit hiems!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">En caput, en ut nectareo micat et micat astro;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gaudet et in roseis viva corona comis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illis, ô Superi, quis sic neget ebrius esse?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illis, ne titubent, dant sua vina faces.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The descent of the Holy Spirit.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bear, O bosoms, bear ye what Heaven's vintage showers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacred clusters pouring from ethereal bowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too happy, surely, ye who drink of wine so good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It comes into your bosoms a sparkling, cooling flood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, with nectar'd star each head is shining, shining;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around your purpl'd locks a crown of life entwining.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Spirit of all flesh, to drink who'd be denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Thou, lest they should falter, mak'st wine a torch to guide? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_14" id="V1_1_14"></a>XIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Congestis omnibus peregre profectus est.</i> Luc. xv. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dic mihi, quo tantos properas, puer auree, nummos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quorsum festinae conglomerantur opes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cur tibi tota vagos ructans patrimonia census?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non poterunt siliquae nempe minoris emi?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">ON THE PRODIGALL.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>The younger son gathered all together, and took his journey +into a far country.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither away so frolick? why so glad?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What all thy wealth in counsile? all thy state?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are husks so deare? troth, 'tis a mighty rate. <span class="source smcap">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_15" id="V1_1_15"></a>XV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Non solum vinciri, sed et mori paratus sum.</i> Act. xxi. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non modo vinc'la, sed et mortem tibi, Christe, subibo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paulus ait, docti callidus arte doli.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Diceret hoc aliter: Tibi non modo velle ligari,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christe, sed et solvi<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> nempe paratus ero.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my eares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At those hard words man's cowardize calls feares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save those of feare, no other bands feare I;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor other death than this—the feare to die. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not bonds for Thee, Lord, but death too I'll brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says Paul, adept in double-meanings grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words meant more: his wish was to be bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Christ; but loosèd too, and with Him found. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_16" id="V1_1_16"></a>XVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Herodem</i> <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">σκωληκόβρωτον</span>. Act. xii. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille Deus, Deus! haec populi vox unica: tantum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vile genus, vermes credere velle negant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At cito se miseri, cito nunc errasse fatentur;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Carnes degustant, ambrosiamque putant.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A god! a god! one-mouth'd the people cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the worms, vile tribe, his claim deny.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet they, too, soon confess themselves astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in his flesh they find ambrosia. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_17" id="V1_1_17"></a>XVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Videns ventum magnum timuit, et cum coepisset demergi, +clamavit, &c.</i> Matt. xiv.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Petre, cades, ô, si dubitas: ô, fide: nec ipsum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Petre, negat fidis aequor habere fidem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pondere pressa suo subsidunt caetera: solum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Petre, tuae mergit te levitatis onus.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>When he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid; and beginning +to sink, he cried, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peter! doubt, and thou sinkest! O, believe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sea will not thy faith, Peter, deceive.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Things by their weight subside into the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy lightness, Peter, threats a wat'ry grave. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_18" id="V1_1_18"></a>XVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Obtulit eis pecunias.</i> Act. viii. 18.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quorsum hos hic nummos profers? quorsum, impie Simon?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non ille hic Judas, sed tibi Petrus adest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vis emisse Deum? potius, precor, hoc age, Simon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si potes, ipse prius daemona vende tuum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He offered them money.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Money! what wouldst thou, impious? Look and see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Peter, not Iscariot, speaks to thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wouldst thou buy God? Nay, Simon, change thy tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And try to sell that demon of thine own. <span class="smcap">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_19" id="V1_1_19"></a>XIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Umbra S. Petri medetur aegrotis.</i> Act. v. 15.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Conveniunt alacres, sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque umbras fieri, creditis? umbra vetat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Petri umbra potens, quae non miracula praestat?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath that shadow they delight to crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn to shades by that shade not allow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Peter's shadow what may we not hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now all thy glory it sustains, O Pope! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_20" id="V1_1_20"></a>XX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Tetigit linguam ejus, &c. ... et loquebatur ... et praecepit illis +ne cui dicerent: illi vero eo magis praedicabant.</i> Marc. vii. +33, 36.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christe, jubes muta ora loqui; muta ora loquuntur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sana tacere jubes ora; nec illa tacent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si digito tunc usus eras, muta ora resolvens;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nonne opus est tota nunc tibi, Christe, manu?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christ bids the dumbe tongue speake; it speakes: the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee charges to be quiet; it runs round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in the first He us'd His finger's touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hand's whole strength here could not be too much. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Straightway words flow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thee disobey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, then, a single finger Thou didst use<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mute tongues to loose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Have ceaseless tongue. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_21" id="V1_1_21"></a>XXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit.</i> +Luc. x. 32.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O dolor! ô nostris vulnera vulneribus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and +passed by.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Canst look, and by with look so tranquil pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor heed my wounds? O, wounds on wounds, alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O peace, too grim! on it set little store:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who looks unmov'd on misery makes it more. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_22" id="V1_1_22"></a>XXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Leprosi ingrati.</i> Luc. xvii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dum linquunt Christum, ah morbus! sanantur euntes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sani Christum, mens ah male-sana! relinquunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsa etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The ungrateful lepers.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whilst leaving Christ—ah, fell disease!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They're healèd as they go:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their malady their medicine is,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Because He will'd it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But healèd now—ah, mind diseas'd!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They from the Lord depart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their healing their disease is now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bred in an ingrate heart. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_23" id="V1_1_23"></a>XXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ne soliciti estote tu crastinum.</i> Matt. vi. 34.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, miser, inque tuas rape non tua tempora curas:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et nondum natis perge perire malis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mi querulis satis una dies, satis angitur horis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Una dies lacrymis mi satis uda suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non mihi venturos vacat expectare dolores:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nolo ego, nolo hodie crastinus esse miser.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Be ye not fretted about to-morrow.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, wretched mortal, antedate the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fill thee with care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Work thyself mis'ries, in a perverse way,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Before they're there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough for me the day's cares in the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The passing hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough the tears that daily, yea or nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In sorrow low'r.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have no leisure thus to antedate<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The coming woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to-day darken with to-morrow's fate;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And so I go. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wretch, to thy woes add not<br /></span> +<span class="i4">to-morrow morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And haste not thou to<br /></span> +<span class="i4">groan with ills unborn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each day's laments, each<br /></span> +<span class="i4">hour's griefs, me suffice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each morn, noon, eve, with<br /></span> +<span class="i4">rueful weeping eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No leisure is to look for<br /></span> +<span class="i4">griefs to be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stir not to-day to-morrow's<br /></span> +<span class="i4">pains in me. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_24" id="V1_1_24"></a>XXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>A telonio Matthaeus.</i> Matt. ix. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah satis, ah nimis est: noli ultra ferre magistrum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et lucro domino turpia colla dare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam fuge; jam, Matthaee, feri fuge regna tyranni:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque bonam, felix i fugitive,<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> crucem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Matthew called from the receipt of custom.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Enough, too much; no more a master's yoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endure, nor bow to lordly Lucre's stroke:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His service from thy slavish neck is broke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flee, Matthew, flee the cruel tyrant's sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hie thee, like a happy runaway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the sweet cross that waits for thee to-day. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_25" id="V1_1_25"></a>XXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Viduae filius e feretro matri redditur.</i> Luc. vii. 15.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En redeunt, lacrymasque breves nova gaudia pensant;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bisque illa est, uno in pignore, facta parens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix quae magis es nati per funera mater:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amisisse, iterum cui peperisse fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The dead son re-delivered to his mother.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brief sorrow is exil'd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lorn widow is a mother made<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Twice in her only child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O happy mother! then a mother most<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When all her hopes seem'd vain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And found him born again. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_26" id="V1_1_26"></a>XXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Bonum intrare in coelos cum uno oculo, &c.</i> Matt. xviii. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of eyes that has but Argus' store!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All and every whit of me. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Argus' eyes were no superlative<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or, O my God, if unto those who die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It be Thy will only to give one eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grant my whole body that one eye to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thus I may forever gaze on Thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_27" id="V1_1_27"></a>XXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Hydropicus sanatur.</i> Luc. xiv. 2-4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Himself is his own sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dropsy his malady<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In sad severity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But Christ the Lord he sees,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who touching him him frees;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now joyous and at ease.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Again, as I opine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Lord transmutes to wine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By miracle divine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">And now, still more and more,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His own wine-water store<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pours mirth at ev'ry pore. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_28" id="V1_1_28"></a>XXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Non erat iis in diversorio locus.</i> Luc. ii. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>There was no room for them in the inn.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No place for Him! So Him you drive away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You drive away your God, your God. O, stay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O height of human madness! wonders rare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No place for Him! without Whom no place were. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_29" id="V1_1_29"></a>XXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite.</i> Luc. xvi.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felix, ô, lacrymis, ô Lazare, ditior istis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon Lazarus his teares.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than Dives in the roabes he weares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With th' purple he must weare in Hell! <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than he who midst his riches purple wears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_30" id="V1_1_30"></a>XXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti.</i> Matt. xxvi. 65.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who leaves not God His own Divinity! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_31" id="V1_1_31"></a>XXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum.</i> Joan. xii. 37.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O verbi, ô dextrae dulcia regna tuae!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet +they believed not on Him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made unbelief itself miraculous. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_32" id="V1_1_32"></a>XXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad S. Andream piscatorem.</i> Marc. i. 16.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quippe potes pulchre captare et fallere pisces;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Centum illic discis lubricus ire dolis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heus, bone piscator! tendit sua retia Christus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Artem inverte, et jam tu quoque disce capi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To S. Andrew, fisherman.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How cleverly the fishes he beguiles!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He learns to use a hundred cunning wiles.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, thou good Fisher: Christ casts out His net;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now haste thou to be caught; for thee 'tis set. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_33" id="V1_1_33"></a>XXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ego sum vox, &c.</i> Joan. i. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si vox es, genitor cur tibi mutus erat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ista tui fuerant quam mira silentia patris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vocem non habuit tunc quoque cum genuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I am the voice.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I am the voice,' thou sayest. Thou holy John,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If voice thou art, why was thy father dumb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O silence strange! which as I muse upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I see thy voice from God, not man, did come. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_34" id="V1_1_34"></a>XXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vincula sponte decidunt.</i> Act. xii. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Qui ferro Petrum cumulas, durissime custos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A ferro disces mollior esse tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce fluit, nodisque suis evolvitur ultro:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I, fatue, et vinc'lis vincula pone tuis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The chains spontaneously fall off.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who loadest him with chains, thou jailer stern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be more kind e'en from those chains shalt learn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, they dissolve, and their own knots untie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, fool, and chains with chains to fetter try. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_35" id="V1_1_35"></a>XXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center">IN DIEM OMNIUM SANCTORUM.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ne laedite terrain, neque mare, neque arbores, quousque obsignaverimus +servos Dei nostri in frontibus suis.</i> Rev. vii. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nusquam immitis agat ventus sua murmura, nusquam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sylva tremat, crispis sollicitata comis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aequa Thetis placide allabens ferat oscula Terrae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Terra suos Thetidi pandat amica sinus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undique pax effusa piis volet aurea pennis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frons bona dum signo est quaeque notata suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, quid in hoc opus est signis aliunde petendis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frons bona sat lacrymis quaeque notata suis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On All-Saints' Day.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let wind with murmurs harsh nowhere be heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowhere wood tremble, its curl'd tresses stirr'd.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm-flowing Sea greet Earth with kisses bland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth unto Sea its bosom kind expand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let holy Peace on golden pinions steal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till each blest brow is mark'd with its own seal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, why elsewhere for this, need signs be sought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To each blest brow tears seal enough have brought. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_36" id="V1_1_36"></a>XXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In die Conjurationis sulphureae.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quam bene dispositis annus dat currere festis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Post omnes Sanctos omne scelus sequitur.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon the Powder-day.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All-mischiefe comes after All-Hallow.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_37" id="V1_1_37"></a>XXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Deus sub utero Virginis.</i> Luc. i. 31.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce tuus, Natura, pater; pater hic tuus hic est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille, uterus matris quem tenet, ille pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pellibus exiguis arctatur Filius ingens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quem tu non totum, crede, nec ipsa capis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quanta uteri, Regina, tui reverentia tecum est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dum jacet hic coelo sub breviore Deus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conscia divino gliscunt praecordia motu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec vehit aethereos sanctior aura polos.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam bene sub tecto tibi concipiuntur eodem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vota, et, vota cui concipienda, Deus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod nubes alia, et tanti super atria coeli<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaerunt, invenient hoc tua vota domi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O felix anima haec, quae tam sua gaudia tangit!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sub conclave suo cui suus ignis adest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Corpus amet, licet, illa suum, neque sidera malit:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod vinc'lum est aliis, hoc habet illa domum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sola jaces, neque sola; toro quocunque recumbis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illo estis positi tuque tuusque toro.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo ubi casta tuo posita es cum conjuge conjunx;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod mirum magis est, es tuus ipsa torus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>God in the Virgin's womb.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy Father, Nature, here thy Father see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom womb of mother holds, thy Father He.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scant teguments the mighty Son enchain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom thou thyself not wholly dost contain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What reverence, Queen, to thine own womb is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While God lies here beneath a lesser heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sacred motion swells her conscious breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor are the poles upborne by airs more blest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath the same roof are well conceiv'd by thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vows, and the God to whom vows offer'd be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What other prayers o'er clouds and sky's vast bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seek, by thy prayers this will at home be found.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest soul, so nigh to thy supreme desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which 'neath its own shrine dwells its own fire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She may her body love, nor heaven prefer:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What chains down others is a home to her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone, yet not lone, where'er thou dost recline;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that same couch are laid both thou and thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, when with thy chaste spouse, chaste wife thou'rt laid—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More strange, thyself thine own blest couch art made. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_38" id="V1_1_38"></a>XXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad Judaeos mactatores Stephani.</i> Act. vii. 59.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Frustra illum increpitant, frustra vaga saxa: nec illi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grandinis, heu, saevae! dura procella nocet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ista potest tolerare, potest nescire; sed illi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae sunt in vestro pectore, saxa nocent.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vainly ye cast stones, Jews; they give no shock:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shower as the hail-storm, it is all in vain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These he shall bear, and heed not: 'tis the rock<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of your obdurate hearts that gives him pain. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_39" id="V1_1_39"></a>XXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>D. Joannes in exilio.</i> Rev. i. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Exul, amor Christi est: Christum tamen invenit exul:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et solitos illic invenit ille sinus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, longo, aeterno ah terras indicite nobis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exilio, Christi si sinus exilium est.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>St. John in exile.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love to Christ an exile is,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet the exile findeth Christ;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the dear familiar bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bosom-joys unpric'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, Lord, exile long to us,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never-ending e'en be sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we find Christ's bosom thus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As our place of banishment. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_40" id="V1_1_40"></a>XL.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad infantes martyres.</i> Matt. ii. 16.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fundite ridentes animas, effundite coelo;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Discet ibi vestra, ô quam bene! lingua loqui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec vos lac vestrum et maternos quaerite fontes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae vos expectat lactea tota via est.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the infant martyrs.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, smiling soules, your new-built cages breake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Heav'n you'l learne to sing ere here to speake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor let the milky fonts that bath your thirst<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Bee your delay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Milke all the way. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Depart, ye smiling souls, to Heaven depart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your tongues may there learn best the speaking art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stay not to suck, sweet children, do not stay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cry not; for you shall go the milky way. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_41" id="V1_1_41"></a>XLI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quaerit Jesum suum beata Virgo.</i> Luc. ii. 45.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, redeas miserae, redeas, puer alme, parenti;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, neque te coelis tam cito redde tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coelum nostra tuum fuerint, ô, brachia, si te<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nostra suum poterunt brachia ferre Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, to Thy mother, ah, return,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">my fair, belovèd Son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return not to Thy native skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">my heaven-descended One.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy mother's arms Thy heaven would be,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">enfolding Thee around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thus within these innocent arms<br /></span> +<span class="i4">the great God might be found.<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_42" id="V1_1_42"></a>XLII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Non sum dignus ut sub tecta mea venias.</i> Matt. viii. 8.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In tua tecta Deus veniet: tuus haud sinit illud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et pudor atque humili in pectore celsa fides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum ergo accipies, quoniam non accipis: ergo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In te jam veniet, non tua tecta Deus.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roofe.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy God was making hast into thy roofe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy humble faith and feare keepes him aloofe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee'll be thy guest, because He may not be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee'll come—into thy house? No, into thee. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_43" id="V1_1_43"></a>XLIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus accusatus nihil respondet.</i> Matt. xxvii. 12.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nil ait: ô sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ponderis ô quanti res nihil illud erat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille olim verbum qui dixit, et omnia fecit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Verbum non dicens omnia nunc reficit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>And He answered them nothing.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mighty Nothing! unto thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing, wee owe all things that bee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God spake once when Hee all things made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee sav'd all when Hee Nothing said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world was made of Nothing then;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis made by Nothing now againe. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Nothing He said.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O precious silence of that sacred tongue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what vast interests on that Nothing hung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who once spoke the word, and all things made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now re-makes all, when not a word is said. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_44" id="V1_1_44"></a>XLIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nunc dimittis.</i> Luc. ii. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spesne meas tandem ergo mei tenuere lacerti?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ergo bibunt oculos lumina nostra tuos?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo bibant: possintque novam sperare juventam:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O possint senii non meminisse sui!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo mihi potius mitem mors induat umbram,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse sub his oculis si tamen umbra potest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, satis est. Ego te vidi, puer auree, vidi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nil post te, nisi te, Christe, videre volo.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And is my hope grasp'd in these arms of mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, and do these eyes drink light from Thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There let them drink with a new youth in store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel the dimming touch of age no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay rather, if Thine eyes can give it room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Death's soft shadow gently o'er them come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee have I seen, O Child: enough for me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I care not to behold aught else but Thee. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_45" id="V1_1_45"></a>XLV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Verbum inter spinas.</i> Luc. viii. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saepe Dei verbum sentes cadit inter, et atrum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Miscet spina procax, ah, male juncta! latus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Credo quidem: nam sic spinas, ah, scilicet inter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse Deus verbum tu quoque, Christe, cadis.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>The Word among thorns.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Often and often 'good words' fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thorns and briars rankly crawl;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their spines lay hold, and choke, and pierce—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to wild beast in hunger fierce.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know it: for like flash of sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I read 'twas so with Thee <span class="smcap">the Word</span>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God, e'en my God, Thou wast in truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fell'st 'mong thorns, which show'd no ruth. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_46" id="V1_1_46"></a>XLVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Sabbatum Judaicum et Christianum.</i> Luc. xiv. 5.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Res eadem vario quantum distinguitur usu:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nostra hominem servant sabbata, vestra bovem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Observent igitur, pacto quid justius isto?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sabbata nostra homines, sabbata vestra boves.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Judaic and Christian Sabbath.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How diff'rent grows a thing through diff'rent use!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Our</i> Sabbaths serve men, <i>yours</i> give oxen truce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be this agreed—arrangement fitter none—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Our</i> Sabbath men keep, <i>yours</i> oxen alone. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_47" id="V1_1_47"></a>XLVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad verbum Dei sanatur caecus.</i> Marc. x. 52.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christe, loquutus eras, ô sacra licentia verbi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jamque novus caeci fluxit in ora dies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam credo, Nemo<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> est, sicut Tu, Christe, loquutus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Auribus? immo oculis, Christe, loquutus eras.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>The blind cured by the word of our Saviour.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou spak'st the word—Thy word's a law;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou spak'st, and straight the blind man saw.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speak and make the blind to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speak thus was to speak, say I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to his eare, but to his eye. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_48" id="V1_1_48"></a>XLVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Onus meum leve est.</i> Matt. xi. 30.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Esse levis quicunque voles, onus accipe Christi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ala tuis humeris, non onus, illud erit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christi onus an quaeris quam sit grave? scilicet audi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam grave, ut ad summos te premat usque polos.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>My burden is light.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Askest how thou may'st lightly loaded be?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christ's <i>burden</i> take from me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wing to lift, no load to press thee down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou it wilt feel and own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost ask how heavy may Christ's <i>burden</i> be?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then list, O man, to me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So <i>heavy</i>, that whoe'er 'neath it enrolls,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It lifts to the highest poles. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_49" id="V1_1_49"></a>XLIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Miraculum quinque panum.</i> Joan. vi. 1-13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce, vagi venit unda cibi; venit indole sacra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fortis, et in dentes fertilis innumeros.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quando erat invictae tam sancta licentia coenae?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illa famem populi poscit, et illa fidem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the miracle of loaves.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou to their teeth hast prov'd Thy deity. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, loaves in heaps, blest growth, spread far and wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mouths innumerable multiplied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feast holy, free, invincible like this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Claims the crowd's hunger, and their faith, I wis. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_50" id="V1_1_50"></a>L.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nunc scimus te habere daemonium.</i> Joan. viii. 52.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aut Deus, aut saltem daemon tibi notior esset,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gens mala, quae dicis daemona habere Deum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ignorasse Deum poteras, ô caeca; sed oro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et patrem poteras tam male nosse tuum?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Now we know Thee to have a devil.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God or the devil by you<br /></span> +<span class="i4">ought better to be known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye wicked ones, who charge<br /></span> +<span class="i4">your God a devil to own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ign'rant of God, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">ye well might be; but O,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The devil, your own father,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">how could ye fail to know? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_51" id="V1_1_51"></a>LI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In beatae Virginis verecundiam.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In gremio, quaeris, cur sic sua lumina Virgo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ponat? ubi melius poneret illa, precor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ubi, quam coelo, melius sua lumina ponat?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Despicit, at coelum sic tamen illa videt.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That on her lap she casts her humble eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faire starre is well fixt, for where, O, where,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heaven's God there lyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She can see Heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This new guest to her eyes new lawes hath given:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_52" id="V1_1_52"></a>LII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In vulnera Dei pendentis.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O frontis, lateris, manuumque pedumque cruores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O quae purpureo flumina fonte patent:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In nostram, ut quondam, pes non valet ire salutem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sed natat; in fluviis, ah, natat ille suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixa manus; dat, fixa: pios bona dextera rores<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Donat, et in donum solvitur ipsa suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O latus, ô torrens; quis enim torrentior exit<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nilus, ubi pronis praecipitatur aquis?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille et mille simul cadit et cadit undique guttis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frons: viden' ut saevus purpuret ora pudor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spinae hoc irriguae florent crudeliter imbre,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque novas sperant protinus ire rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quisque capillus it exiguo tener alveus amne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc quasi de rubro rivulus oceano.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O nimium vivae pretiosis amnibus undae:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fons vitae nunquam verior ille fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the wounds of our crucified Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O bleeding wounds of brow, feet, hands, and side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rivers which from a purple fount spread wide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more to save us now that foot can go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But swims in streams which from its own wounds flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transfix'd His hand yet gives—gives dewdrops holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into its own gift is melted wholly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O side, O torrent; for with torrent strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What flooded Nile more swift is driven along?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drops from His brow in thousands fall and fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See to His face a cruel blush they call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this sad shower the thorns unkindly nurst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon into new-blown roses hope to burst.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each hair becomes a slender streamlet's bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if a rivulet from this ocean red.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O waves too much alive with precious streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowhere a fount of life more truly gleams.<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_53" id="V1_1_53"></a>LIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quare cum Publicanis manducat Magister vester?</i> Matt. ix. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo istis socium se peccatoribus addit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ergo istis sacrum non negat ille latus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu, Pharisaee, rogas, Jesus cur fecerit istud?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nae dicam: Jesus, non Pharisaeus, erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherefore associates He with sinners vile?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why hides He not His holy self the while?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Askest thou, Pharisee, how this can be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because 'tis Jesus, not a Pharisee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_54" id="V1_1_54"></a>LIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ipsum, ipsum, precor, ô potius mini, candide, monstra:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsi, ipsi ô lacrymis oro sit ire meis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si monstrare locum satis est, et dicere nobis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsa ulnas monstrare meas, et dicere possum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φαίδιμέ, μοι αὐτὸν μᾶλλόν μοι δείκνυθι αὐτόν.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αὐτός μου, δέομαι, αὐτὸς ἔχῃ δάκρυα.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Εἰ δὲ τόπον μοὶ δεικνύναι ἅλις ἐστὶ, καὶ εἰπεῖν,</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὧδε τεὸς, Μαριὰμ, ἠνίδε, κεῖτο ἄναξ·</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀγκοίνας μου δεικνύναι δύναμαί γε καὶ εἰπεῖν,</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ὧδε τεὸς, Μαριὰμ, ἠνίδε, κεῖτο ἄναξ.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Come, see the place where the Lord lay.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Show me Himselfe, Himselfe, bright Sir, O show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which way my poore tears to Himselfe may goe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it enough to show the place, and say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then could I show these armes of mine, and say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, where our Lord once laid His head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the grave lies buried. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_55" id="V1_1_55"></a>LV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Leprosi ingrati.</i> Luc. xvii. 11-19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lex jubet ex hominum coetu procul ire leprosos:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At mundi a Christo cur abiere procul?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non abit, at sedes tantum mutavit in illis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et lepra, quae fuerat corpore, mente sedet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic igitur digna vice res variatur; et a se<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam procul ante homines, nunc habuere Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lord commands the lepers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">far off from men to stay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cleansèd by the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">why went the Nine away?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leprosy remaineth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">chang'd only in its seat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expellèd from the body,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">to the soul it makes retreat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now by fit retribution<br /></span> +<span class="i1">a change is brought about:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before shut out from men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">from God they're now shut out. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_56" id="V1_1_56"></a>LVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In cicatrices quas Christus habet in se adhuc superstites.</i> +Joan. xx.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quicquid spina procax, vel stylo clavus acuto,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quicquid purpurea scripserat hasta nota,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vivit adhuc tecum; sed jam tua vulnera non sunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non, sed vulneribus sunt medicina meis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whatever story of their crueltie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or naile, or thorne, or speare have writ in Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are in another sence<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Still legible;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sweet is the difference:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Once I did spell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Every red letter<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A wound of Thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now, what is better,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Balsome for mine. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each bloody, cruel character,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thorn, nail, and spear had written,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When here, as man's great Arbiter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On Calvary Thou wert smitten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wearest still above, O Lord:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But now no longer wounds they are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">According to Thy Holy Word,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They med'cine for my wounds declare. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_57" id="V1_1_57"></a>LVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Aeger implorat umbram D. Petri.</i> Act. v. 15.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Petre, tua lateam paulisper, Petre, sub umbra:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic mea me quaerent fata, nec invenient.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Umbra dabit tua posse meum me cernere solem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et mea lux umbrae sic erit umbra tuae.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The sick implore St. Peter's shadow.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under thy shadow may I lurke awhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's busie search I'le easily beguile:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My light's thy shadowe's shadow, or 'tis done. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Peter, Peter, let thy shadow fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I in wretchedness a-weary crawl:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here vainly shall my fates upon me call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy shadow me shall guide unto my sun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so my light, thy shadow, shall be one. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_58" id="V1_1_58"></a>LVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quid turbati estis? Videte manus meas et pedes, quia ego ipse +sum.</i> Luc. xxiv. 39.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En me et signa mei, quondam mea vulnera: certe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vos nisi credetis, vulnera sunt et adhuc.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O nunc ergo fidem sanent mea vulnera vestram:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O mea nunc sanet vulnera vestra fides.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Why are ye troubled?... Behold My hands and My feet, that +it is I myself.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis I; behold My proofs, My wounds of old;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wounds which still bleed, if you will not believe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, now to heal your faith My wounds behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And healing from your faith My wounds receive.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_59" id="V1_1_59"></a>LIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In vincula Petro sponte delapsa, et apertas fores.</i> Act. xii. 7, 10.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ferri non meminit ferrum: se vincula Petro<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dissimulant: nescit carcer habere fores.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam bene liber erit, carcer quem liberat! ipsa<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vincula quem solvunt, quam bene tutus erit!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, and the (prison)-doors +opened.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Iron forgets 'tis iron;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">the chains dissemble too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor has the prison doors<br /></span> +<span class="i1">for Peter now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free truly is that pris'ner<br /></span> +<span class="i1">who by the prison's freed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom chains themselves unbind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">free is indeed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_60" id="V1_1_60"></a>LX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Deferebantur a corpore ejus sudaria, &c.</i> Act. xix. 12.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Imperiosa premunt morbos, et ferrea fati<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jura ligant, Pauli lintea tacta manu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unde haec felicis laus est et gloria lini?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec, reor, e Lachesis pensa fuere colo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>From his body there were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs, +&c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They quell disease, and sway Fate's iron bands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These lordly linen cloths touched by Paul's hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence rose the glory of their happy fame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the Fates' distaff, sure, these kerchiefs came. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_61" id="V1_1_61"></a>LXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus vitis ad vinitorem Patrem.</i> Joan. xv. 1-6.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En serpit tua, purpureo tua palmite vitis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Serpit, et, ah, spretis it per humum foliis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu viti succurre tuae, mi Vinitor ingens:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Da fulcrum; fulcrum da mihi: quale? crucem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, Thy vine trails, trails with a purple shoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scatt'ring its leaves before it beareth fruit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Succour Thy vine, great Vinedresser, from loss:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Support, support me, Lord: how? With Thy cross. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_62" id="V1_1_62"></a>LXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pene persuades mihi ut fiam Christianus.</i> Act. xxvi. 28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pene? quid hoc pene est? Vicinia saeva salutis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O quam tu malus es proximitate boni!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, portu qui teste perit, bis naufragus ille est;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hunc non tam pelagus, quam sua terra premit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae nobis spes vix absunt, crudelius absunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pene sui felix, emphasis est miseri.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Almost?</i> What word is this we hear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O doubly lost, with heaven so near!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To perish in the neighbourhood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vast but unavailing good!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shipwreck undergoes twice o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who perishes in sight of shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And less by ocean is o'ercome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than by that hopeless glimpse of home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hopes that almost seem our own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave all the keener sting when gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And just to miss felicity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is but emphatic misery. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_63" id="V1_1_63"></a>LXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Lux venit in mundum, sed dilexerunt homines magis tenebras +quam lucem.</i> Joan. iii. 19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Luce sua venit ecce Deus, mundoque refulget;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Stygiis igitur mundus damnabitur umbris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>But men loved darkness rather than light.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world's Light shines: shine as it will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world will love its darknesse still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I doubt though, when the world's in hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It will not love its darknesse halfe so well. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold the day of Christ! God comes with light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the world loves the darkness of the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore the world to Stygian darkness will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be damn'd: and doth the world love darkness still? <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, God comes girt with light,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">and all the world o'ershines:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world abides in night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">nor watcheth for the signs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Stygian darkness hurl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i4">on the great Day of Doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shalt thou, night-loving world,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">still love thy lightless gloom? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_64" id="V1_1_64"></a>LXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dives implorat guttam.</i> Luc. xvi. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mihi si digito tremat et tremat unica summo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gutta! ô si flammas mulceat una meas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Currat opum quocunque volet levis unda mearum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Una mihi haec detur gemmula, Dives ero.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Dives asking a drop.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A drop, one drop! how sweetly one faire drop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would tremble on my pearle-tipt finger's top!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wealth is gone: O, goe it where it will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spare this one iewell, I'le be Dives still. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_65" id="V1_1_65"></a>LXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quomodo potest homo gigni qui est senex?</i> Joan. iii. 4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dic, Phoenix unde in nitidos novus emicat annos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plaudit et elusos aurea penna rogos?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quis colubrum dolus insinuat per secula retro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et jubet emeritum luxuriare latus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cur rostro pereunte suam praedata senectam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Torva ales, rapido plus legit ore diem?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo, sed ad nixus praestat Lucina secundos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Natales seros unde senex habeat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ignoras, Pharisaee? sat est: jam credere disces:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dimidium fidei, qui bene nescit, habet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>How can a man be born when he is old?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See how new Phœnix into bright life springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fans the unhurting flames with golden wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er snake what subtle change creeps as months flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bidding its faded frame with beauty glow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, on itself with worn beak having prey'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is raven old more youthful swift array'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er second birth-throes bears Lucina sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence an old man may have late natal day?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pharisee, know'st not? Well, now faith thou'lt learn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wisely to know not, half faith's crown doth earn. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_66" id="V1_1_66"></a>LXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Arbor Christi jussu arescens.</i> Marc. xi. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille jubet: procul ite mei, mea gloria, rami:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nulla vocet nostras amplius aura comas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ite, nec ô pigeat; nam vos neque fulminis ira,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec trucis ala Noti verberat: ille jubet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O vox, ô Zephyro vel sic quoque dulcior omni;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non possum Autumno nobiliore frui.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The tree dried up by the word of Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He speaks: hence, leaves; my glory hence, away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou Zephyr 'mid my leaves no longer play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begone: nor grieve: 'tis not the lightning's wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wing of the storm-wind that smites: HE saith.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O voice, than Zephyr sweeter far to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More noble autumn-fruit could never be. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_67" id="V1_1_67"></a>LXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Zacharias minus credens.</i> Luc. i. 12.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Infantis fore te patrem, res mira videtur;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Infans interea factus es ipse pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et dum promissi signum, nimis anxie, quaeris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam nisi per signum quaerere nulla potes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Zacharias incredulous.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To have a child thou deem'st so strange a thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou art made a child for wondering.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst for a sign too eagerly thou dost call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except by sign thou can'st not ask at all. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_68" id="V1_1_68"></a>LXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In aquam baptismi Dominici.</i> Matt. iii. 13-16.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felix ô, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Felix, dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gutta quidem sacros quaecunque perambulat artus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dum manet hic, gemma est; dum cadit hinc, lacryma.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the water of our Lord's baptisme.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each blest drop on each blest limme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is washt itselfe in washing Him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a gemme while it stayes here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While it falls hence 'tis a teare. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Happy the water washt His sacred side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In washing Christ itself is purify'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each drop that trickled down His body, there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staying a gem, thence falling was a tear. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_69" id="V1_1_69"></a>LXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Mulieri incurvatae medetur Dominus, indignante Archisynagogo.</i> +Luc. xiii. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In proprios replicata sinus quae repserat, et jam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Daemonis, infelix, nil nisi nodus erat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solvitur ad digitum Domini: sed strictior illo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unicus est nodus; cor, Pharisaee, tuum.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, the Synagogue-ruler +is displeased.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Creeping and doubled erewhile in her woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, now she stands erect: Christ willed it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dæmonic knots are loos'd beneath His hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thy heart, Pharisee, still rigid stands. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_70" id="V1_1_70"></a>LXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Neque ausus fuit quisquam ex illo die eum amplius interrogare.</i> +Matt. xxii. 46.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christe, malas fraudes, Pharisaica retia, fallis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et miseros sacro discutis ore dolos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo tacent tandem, atque invita silentia servant:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam bene non aliter te potuere loqui.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Neither durst any man from that day forth ask Him any more +questions.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nets, frauds of Pharisees, the Lord beguiles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sacred lips disperse the wretched wiles.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So they were silent—enforc'd so to be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such silence, Lord, their best address to Thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_71" id="V1_1_71"></a>LXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>S. Joannes matri suae.</i> Matt. xx. 20.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mihi cur dextram, mater, cur, oro, sinistram<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poscis, ab officio mater iniqua tuo?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam procul a sacro non libet esse sinu.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>St. John and his mother.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mother, why ask you right or left for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The benefit would be an injury.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor right nor left for me convenient are:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From His sweet bosome either is too far. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_72" id="V1_1_72"></a>LXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Si filius Dei es, dejice te.</i> Matt. iv. 6.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ni se dejiciat Christus de vertice Templi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At mox te humano de pectore dejicit: heus tu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cast Thyself from the pinacle whereon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I set Thee, or I think Thee not God's Son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; but He'l cast thee from the hearts of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Satan. Wilt not believe He's God's Son then? <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_73" id="V1_1_73"></a>LXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dominus flens ad Judaeos.</i> Luc. xix. 41.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Discite, vos miseri, venientes discite flammas;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec facite ô lacrymas sic periisse meas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec periisse tamen poterunt: mihi credite, vestras<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vel reprimet flammas haec aqua, vel faciet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Lord weeping over the Jews.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think on the coming flames I would prevent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not My tears for you in vain be spent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet they can't be spent in vain; for sure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This water flames will quench, or else procure. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_74" id="V1_1_74"></a>LXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nec velut hic Publicanus.</i> Luc. xviii. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Istum? vile caput! quantum mihi gratulor, inquis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Istum quod novi tam mihi dissimilem!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vilis at iste abiit sacris acceptior aris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I nunc, et jactes hunc tibi dissimilem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Nor even as this publican.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Him, 'vile wretch!' Ah, myself how much I pride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That I am utterly unlike to him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The 'vile wretch' leaves God's altar justified:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now go and boast thou art unlike to him. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_75" id="V1_1_75"></a>LXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Saulum fulgore nimio excaecatum.</i> Act. ix. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quae lucis tenebrae? quae nox est ista dici?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nox nova, quam nimii luminis umbra facit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Saulus fuerit caecus, vix dicere possum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc scio, quod captus lumine Saulus erat.<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On Saul blinded with too much light.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What darken'd noon is here? what mid-day night?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the shadow cast by too much light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saul may be blind or not; all I can say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ta'en within Heaven's light earth's light fades away. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_76" id="V1_1_76"></a>LXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Beati oculi qui vident.</i> Luc. x. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cum Christus nostris ibat mitissimus oris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque novum caecos jussit habere diem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felices, oculos qui tunc habuere, vocantur?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Felices, et qui non habuere, voco.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Blessed are the eyes which see.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Christ with us on Earth did sympathize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the poor blind men restor'd their eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy they who had eyes. Not they alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I call them also happy who had none. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Christ on earth moved on His pitying way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bade the blind look up and find new day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was eyesight then such bliss to every one?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I will deem them happy who had none. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_77" id="V1_1_77"></a>LXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Filius e feretro matri redditur.</i> Luc. vii. 15.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergone tam subita potuit vice flebilis horror<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In natalitia candidus ire toga?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quos vidi, matris gemitus hos esse dolentis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credideram; gemitus parturientis erant.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With such quick change could tear-bedew'd Dismay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give birthday smiles, and walk in white array?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard I bereavèd mother's wailings wild?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; the blest cries of one who bears a child! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_78" id="V1_1_78"></a>LXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In seculi sapientes.</i> Matt. xi. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergone delicias facit, et sibi plaudit ab alto<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stultitia, ut velit hac ambitione peti?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Difficilisne adeo facta est, et seria tandem?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ergo et in hanc etiam quis sapuisse potest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tantum erat, ut possit tibi doctior esse ruina?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tanti igitur cerebri res, periisse, fuit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil opus ingenio; nihil hac opus arte furoris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Simplicius poteris scilicet esse miser.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the wise of this world.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With such complacent joys is Folly fraught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with this trouble she must needs be sought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So difficult and grave is she turn'd now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can any one for her be wise enow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must Ruin to be deeper taught aspire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To perish, does it so much brain require?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius and skill in madness who would see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsooth, more simply you may wretched be! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_79" id="V1_1_79"></a>LXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Judaeos Christum praecipitare conantes.</i> Luc. iv. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dicite, quae tanta est sceleris fiducia vestri,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod nequiit daemon, id voluisse scelus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod nequiit daemon scelus, id voluisse patrare:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc tentare ipsum daemona, credo, fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What daring leads you on, ungodly crew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that which ev'n the Devil durst not do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye dare what he dares not? If truth be told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye tempt the Devil's self to be more bold. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_80" id="V1_1_80"></a>LXXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In draconem praecipitem.</i> Rev. xii. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, frustra truculente; tuas procul aurea rident<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Astra minas, coelo jam bene tuta suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune igitur coelum super ire atque astra parabas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ascensu tanto non opus ad barathrum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The casting-down of the dragon.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, Dragon! the fair stars smile at thy threat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Secure, serene, in native skies a-glow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy throne o'er sky and stars thou fain would'st set;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou need'st not vault so high to plunge so low. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_81" id="V1_1_81"></a>LXXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Beatae Virgini credenti.</i> Luc. ii. 19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Miraris, quid enim faceres? sed et haec quoque credis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec uteri credis dulcia monstra tui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">En fidei, Regina, tuae dignissima merces:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fida Dei fueras filia; mater eris.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blessed Virgin believing.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou wonderèd'st! how else could'st thou so guarded?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet thou believ'dst the mighty coming birth;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Queen! thy faith's working is full well rewarded;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">God's daughter, thou God's mother art on earth. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_82" id="V1_1_82"></a>LXXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Licetne Caesari censum dare?</i> Marc. xii. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Post tot Scribarum, Christe, in te proelia, tandem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse venit Caesar; Caesar in arma venit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pugnant terribiles non Caesaris ense, sed ense<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caesare: quin Caesar vinceris ipse tamen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc quoque tu conscribe tuis, Auguste, triumphis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic vinci dignus quis nisi Caesar erat?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">After so many battles with the Scribes, O Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cæsar himself comes; Cæsar with his sword.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They fight not arm'd with Cæsar's sword indeed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Cæsar as their sword with craft they plead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conquer'd thyself, O Cæsar, make it known—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who save thee, worthy so to be o'erthrown. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_83" id="V1_1_83"></a>LXXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In tibicines et turbam tumultuantem circa defunctam.</i> +Matt. ix. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vani, quid strepitis? nam quamvis dormiat illa,<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non tamen e somno est sic revocanda suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expectat solos Christi sopor iste susurros:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dormit enim; sed non omnibus illa tamen.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vain mourning this; why make ye such loud noise?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She sleeps indeed, but so will not awake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sleep waits for the whisper of His voice<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who a great promise to her father spake. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_84" id="V1_1_84"></a>LXXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Piscatores vocati.</i> Matt. iv. 19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ludite jam, pisces, secura per aequora: pisces<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nos quoque, sed varia sub ratione, sumus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non potuisse cápi, vobis spes una salutis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Una salus nobis est, potuisse capi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The fishermen called.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Play, fishes, in your waters, safely play:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We become fishes too, another way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to be taken, to you safety brought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we are then most safe when we are caught. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Careless, aneath the waves, ye fishes, play:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We too are fishes, in a different way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye die, we live, being caught; and that for aye. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sport, fishes, now, within the secure sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, fishes too, in different kind, are we.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In shunning nets your hope of safety lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our safety is to be the netter's prey. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_85" id="V1_1_85"></a>LXXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Date Caesari.</i> Marc. xii. 17.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cuncta Deo debentur: habet tamen et sua Caesar;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec minus inde Deo est, si sua Caesar habet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non minus inde Deo est, solio si caetera dantur<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caesareo, Caesar cum datur ipse Deo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Give to Cæsar ... and to God....</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All we have is God's, and yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cæsar challenges a debt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hath God a thinner share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever Cæsar's payments are.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All is God's; and yet 'tis true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All we have is Cæsar's too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All is Cæsar's; and what ods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So long as Cæsar's selfe is God's? <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All things belong to God, yet Cæsar has his all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not due the less to God that they to Cæsar fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to Cæsar's throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Cæsar's throne itself belongs to God alone. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_86" id="V1_1_86"></a>LXXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dominus asino vehitur.</i> Matt. xxi. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille igitur vilem te, te dignatur asellum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O non vectura non bene digne tua!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu, quibus haud pugnat Christi patientia monstris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc quod sic fertur, hoc quoque ferre fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Lord borne on the ass.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Does He, base ass, thus deign to honour thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unworthy thus to bear th' incarnate God?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, Thy patience strangely tried I see,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thee carried thus who bear'st sin's awful load! <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A common ass does the Lord dignify?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, how unworthy such a burden high!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the Lord's patience, ah, what can compare?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to be borne, this also was to bear. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_87" id="V1_1_87"></a>LXXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Videbunt Filium hominis venientem in nube.</i> Luc. xxi. 27.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Immo, veni: aërios, ô Christe, accingere currus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque triumphali nube coruscus ades.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nubem quaeris? erunt nostra, ah! suspiria nubes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut sol in nubem se dabit ipse tuam.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, yoke Thy chariots of the air, O Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphal honours let bright clouds afford.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost seek a cloud? Our sighs a cloud will be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the sun melt into a cloud for Thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_88" id="V1_1_88"></a>LXXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nisi digitum immisero, &c.</i> Joan. xx. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Impius ergo iterum clavos? iterum impius hastam?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et totum digitus triste revolvet opus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune igitur Christum, Thoma, quo vivere credas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Christum faceres, ah truculente! mori?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">CHRIST TO THOMAS.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Except I shall put my finger, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy impious finger, would it, then, re-borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nails, the spear, each circumstance of sorrow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on a living Christ thou mayst rely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cruel, wouldst thou thy Christ re-crucify? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_89" id="V1_1_89"></a>LXXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad Judaeos mactatores S. Stephani.</i> Act. vi. 9-12.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid datis, ah miseri! saxis nolentibus iras?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid nimis in tragicum praecipitatis opus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mortem Stephani se dant invita: sed illi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Occiso faciunt sponte sua tumulum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the Jews stoning St. Stephen.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wretches, do ye put rage into cold stones?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why rush so eagerly to work so vile?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your stones unwilling add to Stephen's moans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But gladly heap a tomb for him the while. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_90" id="V1_1_90"></a>XC.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Sancto Joanni dilecto discipulo.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu fruere, augustoque sinu caput abde, quod ô tum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nollet in aeterna se posuisse rosa.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu fruere; et sacro dum te sic pectore portat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O sat erit tergo me potuisse vehi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To St. John the beloved disciple.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon His breast thy happy head reposes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor would that pillow change for Heaven's own roses:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thus His bosom bears up happy thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To press His shoulders were enough for me. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_91" id="V1_1_91"></a>XCI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In lactentes martyres.</i> Matt. ii. 16, 17.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vulnera natorum qui vidit et ubera matrum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Per pueros fluviis, ah! simul ire suis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic pueros quisquis vidit, dubitavit an illos<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lilia coelorum diceret, anne rosas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon the infant martyrs.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To see both blended in one flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mothers' milk, the childrens' blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes me doubt if Heaven will gather<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses hence, or lillies rather. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who saw the infants' blood and milk of mother<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flowing, alas, in a commingl'd tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtingly ask'd, and gaz'd from one to other,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whether Heav'n's rose or lily they espy'd. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_92" id="V1_1_92"></a>XCII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Deus nobiscum.</i> Matt. i. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nobiscum Deus est? vestrum hoc est, hei mihi! vestrum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vobiscum Deus est, ô asini atque boves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobiscum non est; nam nos domus aurea sumit:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nobiscum Deus est, et jacet in stabulo?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc igitur nostrum ut fiat, dulcissime Jesu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nos dandi stabulis, vel tibi danda domus.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>God with us.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is God with us? Woe's me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God is with you, ye beasts, I see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God is with you, ye beasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God comes not to our golden feasts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That God may be with us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must provide a lowly house.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God comes to the humble manger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While to the great house a stranger. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_93" id="V1_1_93"></a>XCIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus circumcisus ad Patrem.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Has en primitias nostrae, Pater, accipe mortis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vitam ex quo sumpsi, vivere dedidici.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ira, Pater, tua de pluvia gustaverit ista:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Olim ibit fluviis hoc latus omne suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc sitiat licet et sitiat, bibet et bibet usque:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tunc poterit toto fonte superba frui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc hastae interea possit praeludere culter:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Indolis in poenas spes erit ista meae.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_94" id="V1_1_94"></a>XCIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Epiphaniam Domini.</i> Matt. ii. 2.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non solita contenta dies face lucis Eoae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce micat radiis caesariata novis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Persa sagax, propera: discurre per ardua regum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tecta, per auratas marmoreasque domus:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quaere ô, quae intepuit Reginae purpura partu;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Principe vagitu quae domus insonuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Audin' Persa sagax? Qui tanta negotia coelo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fecit, Bethlemiis vagiit in stabulis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Epiphany of our Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scorning her wonted herald, lo, the Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now decks her forehead with a brighter ray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sage Persian, haste; ask where high roofs unfold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their royal wealth of marble and of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In what rich couch an Empress-mother lies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What halls have heard a new-born Prince's cries.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wouldst know, sage Persian? He for whom Heaven keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such festival, in Bethlehem's manger weeps. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_95" id="V1_1_95"></a>XCV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ecce quaerebamus te, &c.</i> Luc. ii. 49.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Te quaero misera, et quaero: tu nunc quoque tractas<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Res Patris; Pater est unica cura tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe quod ad poenas tantum et tot nomina mortis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ad luctum et lacrymas, hei mihi! mater ego.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I seek Thee mourning, and I seek again:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou still Thy Father's business dost attend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And me, alas, sad mother of all pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of grief and tears, Thou surely wilt befriend. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_96" id="V1_1_96"></a>XCVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Aquae in vinum versae.</i> Joan. ii. 1-11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Water turned into wine.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whence that blush upon thy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Nymph of the waters, now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark the glow all rosy-red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the stream astonièd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the guests in tumult rush'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shy Nymph saw her God, and blush'd. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whence to your waters comes the glow of wine?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What strange new rose their mazèd streams hath flush'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, guests, and own your Visitant divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the chaste Nymph hath seen her God, and blush'd. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whence comes this rose, this ruddy colour strange?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What blushes new the wondering water change?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark, mark, gay guests, a present Deity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The conscious water blush'd its God to see. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_97" id="V1_1_97"></a>XCVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Absenti Centurionis filio Dominus absens medetur.</i> +Matt. viii. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quam tacitis inopina salus illabitur alis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alis quas illi vox tua, Christe, dedit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam longas vox ista manus habet! haec medicina<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Absens et praesens haec medicina fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant of the +Centurion.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Safety unlook'd-for! silent 'light the wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherewith Thy voice, O Christ, swift-healing brings:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far-reaching hand Thy word has, and Thou healest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absent and present, even as Thou willest. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_98" id="V1_1_98"></a>XCVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quid timidi estis?</i> Marc. iv. 40.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tanquam illi insanus faceret sua fulmina ventus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tanquam illi scopulos norit habere fretum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vos vestri scopuli, vos estis ventus et unda:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Naufragium cum illo qui metuit, meruit.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Why are ye so fearful?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As if to Him the winds their thunder threw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if to Him hard rocks the water knew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye are your rocks, ye are your wind and wave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shiprack with Him who fear, deserve to have. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_99" id="V1_1_99"></a>XCIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nunc dimittis.</i> Luc. ii. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ite mei, quid enim ulterius, quid vultis, ocelli?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leniter obductis ite superciliis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo et adhuc et adhuc, iterumque iterumque videte;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Accipite haec totis lumina luminibus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jamque ite; et tutis ô vos bene claudite vallis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Servate haec totis lumina luminibus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Primum est, quod potui te, Christe, videre: secundum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Te viso, recta jam potuisse mori.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Begone, mine eyes; what would ye see beside?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go now in peace 'neath darkening brows to hide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once and again, and yet again; behold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one long gaze His beams in yours enfold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then go, and guard your treasure safe from foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fast in yours those beams of His enclose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To look on Thee, O Christ, this first have I;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, having look'd on Thee, straightway to die. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_100" id="V1_1_100"></a>C.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In segetem sacram.</i> Matt. xiii. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce suam implorat, demisso vertice, falcem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu segeti falcem da, Pater alme, suam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu falcem non das? messem tu, Christe, moraris?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc ipsum falx est; haec mora messis erit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Good seed in the field.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Its sickle it implores with head bow'd low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its sickle on the corn-field, Lord, bestow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refusest Thou? The harvest dost delay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sickle this—hence fuller harvest-day. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_101" id="V1_1_101"></a>CI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Coepit lacrymis rigare pedes ejus, et capillis extergebat.</i> +Luc. vii. 37.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unda sacras sordes lambit placidissima: flavae<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lambit et hanc undam lucida flamma comae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa per has sordes it purior unda; simulque<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille per has lucet purior ignis aquas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>She began to wash His feet with teares, and wipe them with the +haires of her head.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eyes' flood lickes His feets' faire staine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hair's flame lickes up that againe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This flame thus quencht hath brighter beames;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This flood thus stainèd fairer streames. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With placid force the gentle wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That consecrated dust doth lave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a bright flame of golden hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth lave in light those waters fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purer the trickling waters shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through contact with that dust divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And purer through the waters' flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That flame of lucent fire doth glow. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_102" id="V1_1_102"></a>CII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quid vis tibi faciam?</i> Luc. xviii. 41.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid volo, Christe, rogas? quippe ah volo, Christe, videre:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quippe ad te, dulcis Christe, videre volo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At video, fideique oculis te nunc quoque figo:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est mihi, quae nunquam est non oculata, fides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed quamvis videam, tamen ah volo, Christe, videre:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sed quoniam video, Christe, videre volo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>What seekest that I do to thee?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Askest, O Christ, my wish? My Christ I wish to see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see Thee, O my sweet Christ, to see Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, lo, I see; for now on Thee I fix faith's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gazing so, dimness and darkness fly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But though I see, yet, ah, my Christ I wish to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And since I see, O Christ, I would see Thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_103" id="V1_1_103"></a>CIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus mulieri Canaaneae difficilior.</i> Matt. xv. 21.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ut pretium facias dono, donare recusas:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Usque rogat supplex, tutamen usque negas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc etiam donare fuit, donare negare.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saepe dedit quisquis saepe negata dedit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That He a gift more precious might bestow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she implor'd, discouragements He used.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was to give thus not to give; for, lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He giveth oft who gives what's oft refused.<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_104" id="V1_1_104"></a>CIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Beatus venter et ubera, &c.</i> Luc. ii. 27.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Et quid si biberet Jesus vel ab ubere vestro?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid facit ad vestram, quod bibit ille, sitim?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ubera mox sua et hic, ô quam non lactea! pandet;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">E nato mater tum bibet ipsa suo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Suppose He had been tabled at thy teates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy hunger feeles not what He eates:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'l have His teat ere long—a bloody one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother then must suck the Son. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_105" id="V1_1_105"></a>CV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Christum vitem.</i> Joan. xv. 1.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ulmum vitis amat, quippe est et in arbore flamma,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam fovet in viridi pectore blandus amor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illam ex arboribus cunctis tu, vitis, amasti;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illam, quaecunque est, quae crucis arbor erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ the true Vine (including the branches).</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The vine clings lovingly unto the elm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love's flame draws thus a tree within its realm:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most, O vine, thou lov'st, whate'er its name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That tree from which the cross of Calvary came. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_106" id="V1_1_106"></a>CVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vos flebitis et lamentabimini.</i> Joan. xvi. 20.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo mihi salvete mei, mea gaudia, luctus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam charum, ô Deus, est hoc mihi flere meum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flerem, ni flerem: solus tu, dulcis Jesu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Laetitiam donas tunc quoque quando negas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Welcome, my griefe, my joy; how deare's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me my legacy of teares!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll weepe and weepe, and will therefore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weepe 'cause I can weepe no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, Thou, deare Lord, even Thou alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_107" id="V1_1_107"></a>CVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In gregem Christi Pastoris.</i> Joan. x. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O grex, ô nimium tanto Pastore beatus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O ubi sunt tanto pascua digna grege?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne non digna forent tanto grege pascua, Christus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse suo est Pastor, pascuum et ipse gregi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ the good Shepherd.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O flock, O too much in thy Sheepherd blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where are fields worthy thee to feed and rest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest worthy pastures nowhere should be found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ is to thee the Sheepherd and the ground. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O flock, in your great Shepherd all too blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where shall fit pasturage be found for you?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That His fair flock may ne'er want food or rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christ is the Pastor and the pasture too. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_108" id="V1_1_108"></a>CVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In vulnera pendentis Domini.</i> Matt. xxviii. 26-53.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sive oculos, sive ora vocem tua vulnera; certe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Undique sunt ora, heu, undique sunt oculi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce ora, ô nimium roseis florentia labris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce oculi, saevis ah madidi lacrymis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magdala, quae lacrymas solita es, quae basia sacro<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ferre pedi, sacro de pede sume vices.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ora pedi sua sunt, tua quo tibi basia reddat:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo reddat lacrymas scilicet est oculus.<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>On the wounds of the crucified Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy wounds, O Lord, are mouths and eyes—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not the strange words breed surprise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er I look, wounds seem to speak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er I look, wounds in tears break;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mouths with ruddy lips disparted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes as of the broken-hearted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, Mary, on His sacred feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rainèdst thy tears and kisses sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now retake thy kisses, tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cling thee there, there hush thy fears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, mouths and eyes are here also;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift they'll pay back thy loving woe. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_109" id="V1_1_109"></a>CIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Paralyticus convalescens.</i> Marc. ii. 1-13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christum, quod misero facilis peccata remittit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scribae blasphemum dicere non dubitant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc scelus ut primum Paralyticus audiit: ira<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Impatiens, lectum sustulit atque abiit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The paralytic healed.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Scribes audaciously blaspheme the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That He a poor man pardon'd with a word.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Paralytic hears all that they say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indignant takes his bed, and walks away. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_110" id="V1_1_110"></a>CX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Tunc sustulerunt lapides.</i> Joan. viii. 59.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saxa? illi? quid tam foedi voluere furores?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid sibi de saxis hi voluere suis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indolem, et antiqui agnosco vestigia patris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Panem de saxis hi voluere suis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Then took they up stones.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'They took up stones:' What meant they by such rage?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What wanted they with them? Their meaning's plain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis their old father's way—O sad presage!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He too took up the stones for bread amain.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_111" id="V1_1_111"></a>CXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In resurrectionem Domini.</i> Matt. xxviii. 6.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nasceris, en, tecumque tuus, Rex auree, mundus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tecum<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> virgineo nascitur e tumulo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tecum in natales properat natura secundos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque novam vitam te novus orbis habet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ex vita, Sol alme, tua vitam omnia sumunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nil certe, nisi mors, cogitur inde mori.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At certe neque mors: nempe ut queat illa sepulchro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christe, tuo condi, mors volet ipsa mori.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the Resurrection of the Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou'rt born, and, lo, bright King, Thy world is born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is born with Thee from virgin tomb this morn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor is Death forced—since in Thy grave to lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_112" id="V1_1_112"></a>CXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Aliqui vero dubitabant.</i> Matt. xxviii. 17.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scilicet et tellus dubitat,<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> tremebunda: sed ipsum hoc,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc ipse dicunt,<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> dicere quod nequeunt.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>But some doubted.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wavering earth forbids you waver too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very keepers, if their voice you seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though speechless, even by their silence speak. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_113" id="V1_1_113"></a>CXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam +suorum fidem.</i> Joan. xx. 20.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His oculis, nec adhuc clausis coïere fenestris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><i>The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strengthening +of His disciples' faith.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy love these eyes did open;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They're watching for us still:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These eyes, of love the token,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our faith with love do fill. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_114" id="V1_1_114"></a>CXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit.</i> Luc. vii. 19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>John sends to Jesus ... saying, Art Thou He that should come? +or look we for another?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And dost <i>thou</i> ask, who in thy mother's womb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So eager wast to hail Messiah come?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, even the very dumb can answer thee. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_115" id="V1_1_115"></a>CXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Petrum auricidam.</i> Joan. xviii. 10.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu tibi jam pugnas, ô bone, non Domino.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well for thyselfe, I meane, not for thy Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To strike at eares is to take heed there bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No witnesse, Peter, of thy perjury. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_116" id="V1_1_116"></a>CXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Manus arefacta sanatur.</i> Marc. iii. 1-5.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felix, ergo tuae spectas natalia dextrae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae modo spectanti flebile funus erat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae nec in externos modo dextera profuit usus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Certe erit illa tuae jam manus et fidei.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The withered hand healed.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O happy man, thy right-hand's birth beholding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erewhile a sad funereal sight enfolding!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand of no use, by the word Christ saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restor'd, is now become the hand of faith. <span class="source">G. & B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_117" id="V1_1_117"></a>CXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Pontium male lautum.</i> Matt. xxvii. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illa manus lavat unda tuas, vanissime judex:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah tamen illa scelus non lavat unda tuum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nulla scelus lavet unda tuum: vel si lavet ulla,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O volet ex oculis illa venire tuis.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>To Pontius washing his hands.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flood, if any can, that can suffice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must have its fountaine in thine eyes. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No water washt it out: if any will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_118" id="V1_1_118"></a>CXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In piscem dotatum.</i> Matt. xvii. 27.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fert pretium: tanti est vel periisse tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non opus est: ipsum se tibi piscis emet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The stater-giving fish.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A fish Thou wishest, Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And without e'er a word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, it swims to Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fetching its own cost, free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou needest not to go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In markets to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor need'st Thou price to bring—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fish owns Thee its king. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_119" id="V1_1_119"></a>CXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ego vici mundum.</i> Joan. xvi. 33.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu contra mundum dux es meus, optime Jesu?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At tu, me miserum! dux meus ipse jaces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si tu, dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Immo, ni jaceas tu, mihi nulla salus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I have overcome the world.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if my Captain fall, what hope have I?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hope at all, unless my Captain die. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_120" id="V1_1_120"></a>CXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In ascensionem Dominicam.</i> Act. i. 10.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia coeli:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phoebe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the ascension of our Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through open'd depths of His own heaven He soars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from His face in heaven a new heaven pours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scatter'd before Him down the welkin sinks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun, and its own sun's near glory drinks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moon unto sun for light no more beholden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now from more lustrous sun returns all golden.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These triumphs o'er Thyself Thou grantest, Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphs no other could suffice to 'accord. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_121" id="V1_1_121"></a>CXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In descensum Spiritus Sancti.</i> Act. ii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam coeli circum tonuit fragor: arma minasque<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turbida cum flammis mista ferebat hiems.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Οὐρανοῦ ἐκτύπησε βρόμος· πόλεμον καὶ ἀπειλὰς</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἦγε τρέχων ἄνεμος σὺν φλογὶ σμερδαλέῃ.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Αὖεν Ἰουδαῖος· μιαρὰ στυγερῶν τὰ κάρηνα</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἔφθασε τῆς ὀργῆς τὸ πρέπον οὐρανίης.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀλλὰ γαληναίῳ ὅτε κεῖται ἥσυχον ἄστρῳ</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Φλέγμα, καὶ ἀβλήτους λεὶχε φίλον πλοκάμους,</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἑκθαμβεῖ. ὅτι γὰρ κείνοις οὐκ ἦεν ἀληθὴς,</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Νῦν ἐτεὸν διότι τῷδε κεραυνὸς ἔην.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The descent of the Holy Spirit.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Booms the thunder through the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash the lightnings, threats the storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cries the Jew with vengeful eye:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">See <span class="smcap">SIN</span> doom'd in fitting form!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, lo, the lightning, paled to light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mild and calm as ev'ning's star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Binds their brows with nimbus bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Playing softly i' their hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Jews it is not lightning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the more the name's enlightening.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_122" id="V1_1_122"></a>CXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet.</i> Joan. iii. 16.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Guttula quod faceret, cur facit oceanus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son....</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, 'tis too much to give Him for our sake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A drop might serve, why then an ocean take?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here may my life expatiate gloriously—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amply, magnificently, Death may die. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_123" id="V1_1_123"></a>CXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Juga boum emi.</i> Luc. xiv. 19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ad coenam voco te, domini quod jussa volebant;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu mihi, nescio quos, dicis, inepte, boves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imo vale, nobis nec digne nec utilis hospes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Coena tuos, credo, malit habere boves.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I have bought five yoke of oxen.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I call thee to His Supper,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">for so The Master spake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou sayest 'No,' pretending<br /></span> +<span class="i4">thou must thy oxen take.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell, O thou unworthy<br /></span> +<span class="i4">and wholly useless guest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy oxen for the Supper<br /></span> +<span class="i4">in truth were better prest. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_124" id="V1_1_124"></a>CXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>D. Paulum, verbo sanantem claudum, pro Mercurio Lystres +adorant.</i> Act. xiv. 8-18.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quis Tagus hic, quae Pactoli nova volvitur unda?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non hominis vox est haec: Deus ille, Deus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salve, mortales nimium dignate penates:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Digna Deo soboles, digna tonante Deo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O salve, quid enim, alme, tuos latuisse volebas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Te dicit certe vel tua lingua Deum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laudem hanc haud miror: meruit facundus haberi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui claudo promptos suasit habere pedes.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>St. Paul, healing the lame man with a word, is worshipped by +the Lystrians as Mercury.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis not man's voice: a God, a God behold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail, too much honour thou to men hast done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Jove, of thundering Jove the worthy son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail, Lord, for why wouldst hide thee from thine own?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A God e'en by thy tongue assuredly art known.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The praise of eloquence for him was meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_125" id="V1_1_125"></a>CXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πῆ ταχύεργος ἄγει πτέρυγ' ἀστερόεσσαν ἐρετμός;</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἢ τίνι κεῖνα φέρει τὴν πόδα χιονέην;</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χριστὲ, τεῇ κεφαλῇ πάσαις πτερύγεσσιν ἐπείγει·</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Πῆ σκιά τοι δασίοις παῖζε μάλα πλοκάμοις.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ποῖά σοι ἀῤῥήτῳ ψιθυρίσματι κεῖν' ἀγορεύει;</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀῤῥήτ', οὐκ ἠχῆς ἶσα μὲν ἀνδρομέης.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Μοῦνα μὲν ἥδ' ὄρνις καλιᾶς ἐστ' ἀξία ταύτης·</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Ἀξία δ' ὄρνιθος μοῦνα μὲν ἡ καλιά.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A melody unlike all earthly sound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This nest alone worthy the Bird is found. <span class="source">W.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_126" id="V1_1_126"></a>CXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In fores divo Petro sponte apertas.</i> Act. xii. 10.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid juvit clausisse fores, bone janitor, istas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et Petro claves jam liquet esse suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dices, sponte patent: Petri ergo hoc scilicet ipsum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est clavis, Petro clave quod haud opus est.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good jailor, how is this,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These doors thou lockest here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Peter has the keys<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis now to all men clear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou say'st the doors self-open,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And well thou sayest indeed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For by this very token<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He no other key doth need. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_127" id="V1_1_127"></a>CXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Murmurabant Pharisaei, dicentes, Recipit peccatores, et comedit +cum illis.</i> Luc. xv. 2.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah male, quisquis is est, pereat, qui scilicet istis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Convivam, saevus, non sinit esse suum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis cum Christus conviva adjungitur, istis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O non conviva est Christus, at ipse cibus.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Pharisees murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, +and eateth with them.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, let him perish in his harsh protests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sinners checks to be the Saviour's guests!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinners do entertain Christ as a guest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They spread the table, but He is the feast. <span class="source">G. & B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_128" id="V1_1_128"></a>CXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In trabem Pharisaicam.</i> Matt. vii. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cedant, quae, rerum si quid tenue atque minutum est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Posse acie certa figere, vitra dabunt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Artis opus mirae! Pharisaeo en optica trabs est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsum, vera loquor, qua videt ille nihil.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>On the beam of the Pharisee.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grant you can fix upon a needle's end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each smallest object microscopes will lend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rare beam to look through has the Pharisee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereby, in sooth, nothing itself sees he! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_129" id="V1_1_129"></a>CXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Constituerunt ut si quis confiteretur eum esse Christum, synagoga +moveretur.</i> Joan. ix. 22.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Infelix, Christum reus es quicunque colendi;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O reus infelix, quam tua culpa gravis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu summis igitur, summis damnabere coelis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O reus infelix, quam tua poena gravis!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They determined that if any man should confess Him to be +Christ, he should be put out of the synagogue.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, unhappy, own the Christ thou wilt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unhappy culprit, fearful is thy guilt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gates of heaven for aye should keep thee close:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unhappy culprit, fearful are thy woes. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_130" id="V1_1_130"></a>CXXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>De voto filiorum Zebedaei.</i> Matt. xx. 20.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sit tibi, Joannes, tibi sit, Jacobe, quod optas;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sit tibi dextra manus; sit tibi laeva manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spero alia in coelo est, et non incommoda, sedes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si neque laeva manus, si neque dextra manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coeli hanc aut illam nolo mihi quaerere partem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O coelum, coelum da, Pater alme, mihi.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O brothers twain, may it be yours to fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At right and left your places as ye will!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A seat remains, I trust—a fair one too—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides those high ones that were sought for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray not that to me some part be given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But heaven itself, kind Father, grant me heaven. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">John and James, take your place at God's command:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One at the right, th' other at the left hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ask not to be placèd so, or so:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To heaven, to heaven, good Father, let me go. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_131" id="V1_1_131"></a>CXXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad hospites coenae miraculosae quinque panum.</i> Joan. vi. 9-13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vescere pane tuo, sed et, hospes, vescere Christo;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et panis pani scilicet ille tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc pane hoc Christi recte satur, hospes, abibis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Panem ipsum Christum si magis esurias.<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Feed on thy bread, on Christ too feed, O guest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Bread on bread forsooth thou shalt be blest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shalt thou go, with Christ's bread satisfied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If hungering for the living Bread beside. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_132" id="V1_1_132"></a>CXXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>De Christi contra mundum pugna.</i> Joan. xvi. 33.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ferre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ overcoming the world.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dar'st lift unarm'd hands against my thunder.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, tyrant; put thy chains upon these hands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis done; and now full-arm'd the prisoner stands. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_133" id="V1_1_133"></a>CXXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Graeci disputatores divo Paulo mortem machinantur.</i> Act. ix. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Euge, argumentum! sic disputat: euge, sophista!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic pugnum Logices stringere, sic decuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc argumentum in causam quid, Graecule, dicit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dicit, te in causam dicere posse nihil.<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O noble argument, Sophister rare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus Logic's fist to double be your care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This argument, poor Greek, what does it weigh?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It says that you have nought at all to say. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_134" id="V1_1_134"></a>CXXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus.</i> Luc. xxii. 26.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At vero fies hac ratione minor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou mai'st not go less, to every one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Submit: this, this is Christ's ambition. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_135" id="V1_1_135"></a>CXXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In lacrymantem Dominum.</i> Luc. xix. 41.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vobis, Judaei, vobis haec volvitur unda;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae vobis, quoniam spernitis, ignis erit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eia faces, Romane, faces! seges illa furoris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non nisi ab his undis, ignea messis erit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He beheld the city, and wept over it.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For you, O Jews, is roll'd this tearful tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which as a flame shall glow, since ye deride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torches, Rome's torches—those wild-waving ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_136" id="V1_1_136"></a>CXXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus in Aegypto.</i> Matt. ii. 19-21.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hunc tu, Nile, tuis majori flumine monstra;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hunc, nimis ignotum, dic caput esse tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam tibi, Nile, tumes; jam te quoque multus inunda:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse tuae jam sis laetitiae fluvius.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ in Egypt.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With prouder stream, Nile, show Him to thine own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call Him thy fountain-head, too little known:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now swelling for thyself, thyself o'erflow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with its own joy let thy current glow. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_137" id="V1_1_137"></a>CXXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In caecos Christum confitentes, Pharisaeos abnegantes.</i> +Matt. ix. 27-31.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ne mihi tu, Pharisaee ferox, tua lumina jactes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">En caecus! Christum caecus at ille videt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu, Pharisaee, nequis in Christo cernere Christum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille videt caecus; caecus es ipse videns.<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blind confessing Christ, the Pharisees denying.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cast not thine eyes on me, proud Pharisee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, this blind man, though blind, yet Christ can see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, Pharisee, canst not in Christ Christ find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blind man sees Him, and the seer's blind. <span class="source">G. & B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_138" id="V1_1_138"></a>CXXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Si quis pone me veniet, tollat crucem et sequatur me.</i> +Matt. xvi. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo sequor, sequor, en, quippe et mihi crux mea, Christe, est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Parva quidem; sed quam non satis, ecce, rego.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non rego? non parvam hanc? ideo neque parva putanda est.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crux magna est, parvam non bene ferre crucem.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take +up his cross and follow Me.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therefore I follow, lo, I follow on;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My cross is with me, yet not rightly worn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It little is compar'd with Thine, I own;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet little is not being wrongly borne. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_139" id="V1_1_139"></a>CXXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Relictis omnibus sequutus est eum.</i> Luc. v. 28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quas Matthaeus opes, ad Christi jussa, reliquit;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tum primum vere coepit habere suas.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Iste malarum est usus opum bonus, unicus iste;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse malas homini, quas bene perdat, opes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>And he left all ... and followed Him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The right way, when he left all for Christ's sake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the one good use of ill-got wealth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ill-got 'tis which, leaving, bringeth health. <span class="source">B. & G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_140" id="V1_1_140"></a>CXL.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Aedificatis sepulchra Prophetarum.</i> Matt. xxiii. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sanctorum in tumulis quid vult labor ille colendis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sanctorum mortem non sinit ille mori.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vane, Prophetarum quot ponis saxa sepulchris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tot testes lapidum, queis periere, facis.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The life thou took'st from him unto his death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keepe but the score<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> of them that made him dye. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What means this labour on the tombs of saints,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaints<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_141" id="V1_1_141"></a>CXLI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In manum aridam qua Christo mota est miseratio.</i> +Marc. iii. 3-5.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Prende, miser, Christum; et cum Christo prende salutem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At manca est, dices, dextera: prende tamen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsum hoc, in Christum, manus est: hoc prendere Christum est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua Christum prendas, non habuisse manum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The man with the withered hand, who excited Christ's +compassion.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take hold of Christ, O wretched one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with Christ take salvation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thy right hand, thou say'st, is dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet take thee hold: His word is said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take hold of Christ e'en without hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then safe in Christ, and well, thou'lt stand:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take hold of Christ in simple faith;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This will be hand to thee, He saith. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_142" id="V1_1_142"></a>CXLII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad D. Lucam medicum.</i> Coloss. iv. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nulla mihi, Luca, de te medicamina posco,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse licet medicus sis, licet aeger ego:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe ego in exemplum fidei dum te mihi pono,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu, medice, ipse mihi es tu medicina mea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Οὐδὲν ἐγὼ, Λουκᾶ, παρά σου μοὶ φάρμακον αἰτῶ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Κἂν σὺ δ' ἰατρὸς ἔῃς, κἂν μὲν ἐγὼ νοσερός.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἀλλ' ἐν ὅσῳ παράδειγμα πέλεις μοὶ πίστιος, αὐτὸς,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Αὐτὸς ἰατρὸς ἐμοί γ' ἐσσὶ ἀκεστορίη.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Luke the beloved physician.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No medicine of thee, O Luke, I seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thou art a physician, and I sick:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' example of thy faith before my eyen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me, physician, is the medicine. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>To St. Luke as a physician.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No medicine will I crave, Saint Luke, of thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I be sick, though thou physician be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pattern of faith, I plant thee in my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou thyself the medicine makest me whole. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_143" id="V1_1_143"></a>CXLIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Hydropicus sanatus, Christum jam sitiens.</i> Luc. xiv. 4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pellitur inde sitis, sed et hinc sitis altera surgit;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc sitit ille magis, quo sitit inde minus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix ô, et mortem poterit qui temnere morbus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cui vitae ex ipso fonte sititur aqua.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy dropsy's quench'd, but other thirst now rises,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which craves the more, the less the former thirsts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy malady, which death despises:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thirst for the stream which from life's fountain bursts. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_144" id="V1_1_144"></a>CXLIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ver, ô longae semper seges aurea lucis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos—quid ago?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the assembly of all the Saints.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The regions of unfading peace ye see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me!<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> <span class="source">W.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ever-ripening harvest of long light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O hands with laughing palms, O crownèd brows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea—woe is me! <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_145" id="V1_1_145"></a>CXLV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus absenti medetur.</i> Matt. viii. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vox jam missa suas potuit jam tangere metas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O superi, non hoc ire sed isse fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mirac'lum fuit ipsa salus, bene credere possis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsum, mirac'lum est, quando salutis iter.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ heals in absence.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Came, then, His voice with power, Himself unseen?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heavens! this, though not to go, was to have been.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cure miraculous we can credit well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the mere going was a miracle. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_146" id="V1_1_146"></a>CXLVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Caecus natus.</i> Joan. ix. 1, 2.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felix, qui potuit tantae post nubila noctis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O dignum tanta nocte, videre diem:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix ille oculus, felix utrinque putandus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod videt, et primum quod videt ille Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The man born blind.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Happy the man who was endu'd with sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw a day well worth so long a night:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy the eye, twice happy is the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sees, and at first look, a Deity. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice-happy eye, that after such dark night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day worthy night so dark—couldst see the light:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy eye, eye thrice and four times blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At once to ope, and upon God to rest. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_147" id="V1_1_147"></a>CXLVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Et ridebant illum.</i> Matt. ix. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Luctibus in tantis, Christum ridere vacabat?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vanior iste fuit risus, an iste dolor?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luctibus in tantis hic vester risus inepti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credite mi, meruit maximus esse dolor.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>And they laughed at Him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Laughter at Christ the Saviour—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Laughter 'mid falling tears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, which show'd greater folly,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Vain laughter or vain fears?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such laughter 'mid such sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O fools, ye may believe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such laughter in such Presence<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gave greatest cause to grieve. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_148" id="V1_1_148"></a>CXLVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In sapientiam seculi.</i> Matt. xi. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Noli altum sapere, hoc veteres voluere magistri,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne retrahat lassos alta ruina gradus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo mihi dico, Noli sapuisse profundum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non ego ad infernum me sapuisse velim.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The wisdom of the world.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Aim not at things too high,' 'twas said of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Lest ruin thence o'ertake thee, over-bold.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me to dive too deep I think not well:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would not have my knowledge deep as hell. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_149" id="V1_1_149"></a>CXLIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illa domus stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illa domus, qua tu nasceris, est stabulum?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa domus toto domus est pulcherrima mundo;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vix coelo dici vult minor illa tuo.<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cernis ut illa suo passim domus ardeat auro?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cernis ut effusis rideat illa rosis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sive aurum non est, nec quae rosa rideat illic;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ex oculis facile est esse probare tuis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Οἶκος ὅδ' ἐστ' αὐλή; οὐ μή. τεὸς οἶκος, Ἰησοῦ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἔν θ' ᾧ τὺ τίκτῃ αὔλιον οὐ πέλεται.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Οἴκων μὲν πάντων μάλα δὴ κάλλιστος ἐκεῖνος·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Οὐρανοῦ οὐδὲ τεοῦ μικρότερος πέλεται.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέῳ δῶμ' ἐμπυρίζετο χρυσῷ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέοις δῶμα ῥόδοισι γελᾷ.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἤν ῥόδον οὐχὶ γελᾷ, ἢν οὐδέ τε χρυσὸς ἐκεῖθεν·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἐκ σοῦ δ' ὀφθαλμῶν ἐστιν ἐλεγχέμεναι.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the stable where our Lord was born.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That house a stable? nay, bright Infant, nay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Thou art born—a stable do we say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mansions in this world fairest of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That house but little less than heaven we call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seest thou that house with golden splendour flush?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seest thou that house with scatter'd roses blush?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no gold, no rose there laughing lies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the light that falls from His fair eyes. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_150" id="V1_1_150"></a>CL.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus.</i> Act. vii. 57-60.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec mihi sint mortis conscia saxa meae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic nec opus fuerit, notet ut quis carmine bustum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pro Domino, dicens, occidit ille suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic mihi sit tumulus, quem mors dedit ipsa; meique<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I pray you, raise, my friends, no tomb for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let these conscious stones my record be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will there then be need of verse to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That here for his dear Lord a martyr fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which brought death, a tomb shall also bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be the witness of my witnessing. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_151" id="V1_1_151"></a>CLI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In D. Joannem, quem Domitianus ferventi oleo illaesum indidit.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illum qui, toto currens vaga flammula mundo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non quidem Joannes, ipse sed audit amor—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum ignem extingui, bone Domitiane, laboras?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc non est oleum, Domitiane, dare.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron of boiling oil, +he unhurt.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That fire—which o'er the world a wandering flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bears not the name of John, but Love's own name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To quench, my good Domitian, dost thou toil?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire scarce is quench'd, methinks, by adding oil. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_152" id="V1_1_152"></a>CLII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In tenellos martyres.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitae<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The infant-martyrs.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fallen, alas, in life's most tender dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With only so much life as die they may.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they 'gainst whom Death's arrows thus are drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Only taste death that they may live for aye. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_153" id="V1_1_153"></a>CLIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Attulerunt ei omnes male affectos daemoniacos, lunaticos: et +sanavit eos.</i> Matt. iv. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Collige te tibi, torve Draco, furiasque facesque,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quasque vocant pestes nox Erebusque suas:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fac colubros jam tota suos tua vibret Erinnys;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Collige, collige te fortiter, ut pereas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>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.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gather thy powers, grim Dragon, furies, flames,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All plagues which Erebus or midnight claims,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid each Erinnys high her serpents flourish;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring all, bring all, that thou mayst wholly perish.<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_154" id="V1_1_154"></a>CLIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius.</i> Luc. ii. 35.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quando habeat gladium tua, Christe, tragoedia nullum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quis fuerit gladius, Virgo beata, tuus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Namque nec ulla alias tibi sunt data vulnera, Virgo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam quae a vulneribus sunt data, Christe, tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsan quando senex jam caligantior esset,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod Simeon gladium credidit, hasta fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo neque hasta fuit, neque clavus, sed neque spina:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hei mihi, spina tamen, clavus et hasta fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam queiscunque malis tua, Christe, tragoedia crevit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Omnia sunt gladius, Virgo beata, tuus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>A sword shall pierce through thy own soul.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since in the tragedy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought upon Calvary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, then, shall come the blow<br /></span> +<span class="i10">To Mary, virgin-mother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not any wounds are given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save as her Son is riven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, then, shall come the blow<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To Mary, virgin-mother?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perchance the dim-ey'd seer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By sword intended spear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, then, shall come the blow<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To Mary, virgin-mother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not spear or nail or thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet by all these I'm torn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O whence, then, comes the blow<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To Mary, virgin-mother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the dread tragedy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought upon Calvary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smote Thee, pierc'd as a sword<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mary, the virgin-mother. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_155" id="V1_1_155"></a>CLV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In sanguinem circumcisionis dominicae. Ad convivas, quos +haec dies apud nos solennes habet.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heus, conviva! bibin'? Maria haec, Mariaeque puellus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mittunt de prelo musta bibenda suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Una quidem est, toti quae par tamen unica mundo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unica gutta, suo quae tremit orbiculo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bibite hinc; quale aut quantum vos cunque bibistis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credite mi, nil tam suave bibistis adhuc.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bibite et bibite, et restat tamen usque bibendum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Restat, quod poterit nulla domare sitis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hic, mensura sitis, mensura bibendi est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec quantum cupias vina bibisse, bibis.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the blood of the Lord's circumcision.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send from their press, for drinking, this new wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One drop, yet this round world in worth resembling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single drop in tiny circlet trembling.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink hence; whate'er ye've drunk, how much soever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, such pleasant drink ye've met with never.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink, drink again; to drink is left for you—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is left what mortal thirst can ne'er subdue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thirst's limit here will drinking's bound define:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You drink all that you would drink of this wine. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_156" id="V1_1_156"></a>CLVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Puer Jesus inter doctores.</i> Luc. ii. 46.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fallitur, ad mentum qui pendit quemque profundum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ceu possint laeves nil sapuisse genae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet e barba male mensuratur Apollo;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et bene cum capitis stat nive, mentis hyems.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discat, et a tenero disci quoque posse magistro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Canitiem capitis nec putet esse caput.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Child Jesus among the doctors.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mental winter snowy head may fit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor think a hoary head the head of all. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_157" id="V1_1_157"></a>CLVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa.</i> Joan. ii. 1-11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To our Lord, upon the water made wine.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And so turnes wine to water backe againe. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blessing's in Thy every sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the Tempter each pollutes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou the water makest wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He the wine to woe transmutes. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_158" id="V1_1_158"></a>CLVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo.</i> Luc. ii. 22-33.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the lamb go, by hornèd sire to play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The turtle, with its mate, flee far away:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No need is here of lamb to mediate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or tender bird to bear another's fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Receiv'd by One who much allowance made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being fit for God, since God Himself is here. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_159" id="V1_1_159"></a>CLIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Leprosus Dominum implorans.</i> Matt. viii. 2.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The leper beseeching.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_160" id="V1_1_160"></a>CLX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus in tempestate.</i> Matt. viii. 23-27.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">As if the storme meant Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">His needs a cloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was ever froward wind<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That could be so unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or wave so proud?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind had need be angry, and the water black,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to the mighty Neptune's Self dare threaten wrack.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There is no storm but this<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of your own cowardise<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That braves you out;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You are the storme that mocks<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yourselves; you are the rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of your owne doubt:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That the Sea with such violence falls on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis not his malice, but ambition:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This the ambition, this the loud request,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Thy command, O Christ, to take his rest. <span class="source">B.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_161" id="V1_1_161"></a>CLXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus +Romani.</i> Act. xvi. 21.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Romanis igitur non licet esse piis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Altus anhelanti detonuisset equo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sueta tibi in signis torva venire tuis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam miser ut staret de te tibi, Roma, triumphus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ut tanta fieres ambitione nihil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non tibi, sed sceleri vincis: proh laurea tristis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Laurea, Cerbereis aptior umbra comis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam turpi vix ipse pater diademate Pluto,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vix sedet ipse suo tam niger in solio.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De tot Caesareis redit hoc tibi, Roma, triumphis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caesaree, aut, quod idem est, egregie misera es.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, +neither to observe, being Romans.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rome, have thy Cæsar's arms wrought this for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Romans only may not Christians be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better for thee no Cæsar had waged war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-thundering on his fiery steed afar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor eagle's lordly form o'er all the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had aye on thy stern ensigns been unfurl'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How poor a triumph, Rome, o'er thyself wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By dint of such ambition to be—nought!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conquering for sin, not Rome; sad laurel-wreath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More fit to shadow Cerberus' locks beneath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Pluto scarce wears diadem so base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sits scarce so swart enthron'd in his own place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cæsarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cæsarean, that is, highest misery. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_162" id="V1_1_162"></a>CLXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Hic lapis fiat panis.</i> Matt. iv. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Et fuit ille lapis, quidni sit dicere? panis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christe, fuit: panis sed tuus ille fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe Patris cum sic tulerit suprema voluntas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est panis, panem non habuisse, tuus.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Ἀρτος ἔην τοι δῆτ', εἰπεῖν θέμις ἐστὶν, ἐκεῖνος,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην και λίθος, ἀλλὰ τεός.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἢν οὓτως τοῦ πατρὸς ἔῃ μεγάλου τὸ θέλημα,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἄρτος ὅτ' οὐκ ἦν τοι, Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Command that this stone become a loaf.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so it was; bread was that stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such bread, Christ, as was all Thine own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since God so will'd that it should be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have no bread was bread to Thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_163" id="V1_1_163"></a>CLXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Mulier Canaanitis.</i> Matt. xv. 22.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quicquid Amazoniis dedit olim fama puellis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credite: Amazoniam cernimus, ecce, fidem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foemina, tam fortis fidei? jam credo fidem esse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plus quam grammatice foeminei generis.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The woman of Canaan.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whate'er Fame tells of Amazons of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe: here Amazonian faith behold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such strong faith a woman? Faith I see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than in grammar feminine to be. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_164" id="V1_1_164"></a>CLXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Deus, post expulsum daemonem mutum, maledicis Judaeis os +obturat.</i> Luc. xi. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Una pene opera duplicem tibi daemona frangis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Iste quidem daemon mutus; at ille loquax.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet in laudes, quae non tibi laurea surgit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non magis hic loquitur, quam tacet ille tuas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon the dumbe devill cast out, and the slanderous Jewes put +to silence.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two devills at one blow Thou hast laid flat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A speaking devill this, a dumbe one that.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was't Thy full victorie's fairer increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That th' one spake, or that th' other held his peace? <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_165" id="V1_1_165"></a>CLXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dicebant, Vere hic est Propheta.</i> Joan. vi. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Post tot quae videant, tot quae miracula tangant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec et quae gustent, Christe, dabas populo:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam Vates, Rex, et quicquid pia nomina possunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christus erat: vellem dicere, venter erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Namque his, quicquid erat Christus, de ventre repleto<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Omne illud vero nomine venter erat.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They said, This is of a truth that Prophet.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Christ had given the multitude so much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many miracles to see, taste, touch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now Prophet, King, the holiest name Heaven wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was Christ: I'd rather call it 'Loaves and fishes.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er Christ was, to their stay'd appetite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas all more truly 'Loaves and fishes' dight. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_166" id="V1_1_166"></a>CLXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus ambulabat in porticu Salomonis, et hyems erat.</i> +Joan. x. 22.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bruma fuit? non, non; ah, non fuit ore sub isto:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si fuit, haud anni, nec sua bruma fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bruma tibi vernis velit ire decentior horis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Per sibi non natas expatiata rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At tibi ne possit se tam bene bruma negare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sola haec, quam vibrat gens tua, grando<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> vetat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was't winter? No, O no; beneath that Face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least no natural winter there found place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter for Thee would breathe Spring's beauteous hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With roses crowd its unaccustom'd bowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lest so sweetly Winter should retire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, this hail hinders, hurl'd by Jewish ire. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_167" id="V1_1_167"></a>CLXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Dederunt nummos militibus.</i> Matt. xxviii. 12.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ne miles velit ista loqui, tu munera donas?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Donas, quod possit, cum tacet ipse, loqui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae facis a quoquam, pretio suadente, taceri;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clarius, et dici turpius ista facis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They gave large money to the soldiers.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soldiers' silence is't with money bought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy gift will tell a tale, though they say nought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever with a bribe thou fain wouldst hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More shamefully thou spreadest far and wide. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_168" id="V1_1_168"></a>CLXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Beatae Virgini: de salutatione angelica.</i> Luc. i. 26-28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χαῖρε</span> suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χαῖρε</span> tuum penna candidiore venit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed taceat, qui <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">χαῖρε</span> tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χαῖρε</span> meum penna candidiore venit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quis dicat mihi <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">χαῖρε</span> meum mage candidus autor,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam tibi quae dicat candidus ille tuum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgo, rogas, quid candidius quam candidus ille<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse potest? Virgo, quae rogat, esse potest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χαῖρε</span> tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Donas candidior tu mihi <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">χαῖρε</span> meum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">Χαῖρε</span> meum de <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">χαῖρε</span> tuo quid differat, audi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille tuum dicit, tu paris, ecce, meum.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Its 'hail' Cæsarean eagle need not bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy 'hail' comes wafted on a whiter wing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let the 'all-hail' angel e'en be still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My 'hail' comes flitting on a whiter quill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To say my 'hail' what whiter being can be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that white being who utters thine to thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgin, dost ask what whiter than that white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might be? The Virgin who is asking, might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That white one, Virgin, may give 'hail' to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou, more white, dost give my 'hail' to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My 'hail' o'er thy 'hail,' wouldst thou know its worth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He utters thine, but mine thou bringest forth. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_169" id="V1_1_169"></a>CLXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pontio lavanti.</i> Matt. xxvii. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That thou need'st heape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Nothing but teares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What water shal wash this when this hath washèd thee. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_170" id="V1_1_170"></a>CLXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In die passionis dominicae.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tamne ego sim tetricus? valeant jejunia: vinum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est mihi dulce meo, nec pudet esse, cado.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Est mihi quod castis, neque prelum passa, racemis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Palmite virgineo protulit uva parens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc mihi, ter denis sat enim maturuit annis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tandem, ecce, e dolio praebibit hasta suo.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jamque it; et ô quanto calet actus aromate torrens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Acer ut hinc aura divite currit odor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae rosa per cyathos volitat tam vina Falernos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Massica quae tanto sidere vina tremunt?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ego nescibam; atque ecce est vinum illud amoris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unde ego sim tantis, unde ego par cyathis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vincor: et ô istis totus prope misceor auris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non ego sum tantis, non ego par cyathis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed quid ego invicti metuo bona robora vini?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce est, quae validum diluit<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> unda merum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the day of the Lord's Passion.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Should I be dull? Fastings farewell! Sweet wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have—nor am asham'd—in cask of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the full grape, unprest, from virgin shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Produced for me in purest cluster'd fruit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This wine, now mellow'd by the thirtieth year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, from the 'wood' will pour at touch of spear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It pours, and O how sweet the torrent glows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sharp an odour on the rich air flows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What bouquet thus breathes from Falernian jars?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Massic wines tremble beneath such stars?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, I knew not; and, lo, this is Love's wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence I such draughts, e'en I, need not decline.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanquish'd, I wholly faint these airs along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am no match, not I, for draughts so strong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wherefore fear I their blest strength divine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the water mingled with the wine! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_171" id="V1_1_171"></a>CLXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena +ferens aromata.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phoenicis adora;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing +spices cometh to the sepulchre.</i> Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phœnix' tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But these—no herbs nor spices equal them—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these—her Lord's head in amomum laid—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The humble feet the head's despair she made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_172" id="V1_1_172"></a>CLXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In cicatrices Domini adhuc superstites.</i> Luc. xxiv. 31.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Arma vides; arcus, pharetramque levesque sagittas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et quocunque fuit nomine miles Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fuit usus Amor: sed et haec fuit ipse; suumque<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et jaculum, et jaculis ipse pharetra suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunc splendent tantum, et deterso pulvere belli<br /></span> +<span class="i1">E memori pendent nomina magna tholo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempus erit tamen, haec irae quando arma pharetramque,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et sobolem pharetrae spicula tradet Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu, qua tunc anima, quo stabit conscia vultu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quum scelus agnoscet dextera quaeque suum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua tibi cunque tuus luserit arte furor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu digito suadente tuo mala laurus inibat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Temporibus; sacrum seu bibit hasta latus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sive tuo clavi saevum rubuere sub ictu;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seu puduit jussis ire flagella tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod dederis vulnus, cernere, vulnus erit.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> +<span class="i0">Plaga sui vindex clavosque rependet et hastam:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quoque rependet, erit clavus et hasta sibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quis tam terribiles, tam justas moverit iras?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vulnera pugnabunt, Christe, vel ipsa tibi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the scars of the Lord still remaining.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Arms see—bows, quiver, arrows flying far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every style in which Love went to war.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These arms Love used—nay, Himself was: His own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dart and darts' quiver was Himself alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now they but shine, and, dusty battle ended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In treasur'd glory are on high suspended.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time comes when unto Wrath these arms, both quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quiver's offspring, darts, Love will deliver.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, with what thoughts, what countenance wilt thou stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When its own guilt comes home to each right hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretch, thou wilt see the wounds which thou hast made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with what fatal skill thy fury play'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether with bloody wreath thy fingers plied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His temples, or thy spear drank His dear side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or 'neath thy blow nails turned a cruel red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the scourge blush'd as at thy call it sped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretch, there the wounds thou gavest thou shalt see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the wound thou gav'st a wound shall be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stroke self-avenging follows nails and spear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its nail and spear of recompense are here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such awful righteous wrath who would excite?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy very wounds, O Christ, for Thee will fight. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_173" id="V1_1_173"></a>CLXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pacem meam do vobis.</i> Joan. xiv. 27.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bella vocant: arma, ô socii, nostra arma paremus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque enses: nostros scilicet, ah, jugulos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cur ego bella paro, cum Christus det mihi pacem?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod Christus pacem dat mihi, bella paro.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille dedit, nam quis potuit dare certior autor?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille dedit pacem: sed dedit ille suam.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>My peace I give unto you.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">War calls: O friends, our arms let us prepare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swords; forsooth, our throats let us lay bare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why war prepare, if Christ His peace afford?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because Christ gives me peace, I take the sword.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gave—what surer giver can be shown?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gave the peace, but then He gave His own. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_174" id="V1_1_174"></a>CLXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In D. Paulum illuminatum simul et excaecatum.</i> Act. ix. 8, 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quae, Christe, ambigua haec bifidi tibi gloria teli est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod simul huic oculos abstulit atque dedit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sancta dies animi, hac oculorum in nocte, latebat;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Te ut possit Paulus cernere, caecus erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Paul's conversion and blindness.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, Lord, this twofold glory of Thy ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving him sight whose sight it takes away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paul in that night God's inner light shall find:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he may see The Christ his eyes are blind. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_175" id="V1_1_175"></a>CLXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ego sum Via. Ad Judaeos spretores Christi.</i> Joan. xiv. 6.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sed nec calcanda tamen: pes improbe, pergis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Improbe pes, ergo hoc coeli erat ire viam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah pereat, Judaec ferox, pes improbus ille,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui coeli tritam sic facit esse viam.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I am the Way. To the Jewish despisers of Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not to be trampled on, though: vile foot, stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vile foot, is this to tread the heavenly Way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let that fierce Jewish foot to death be given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thus wears out the blessèd Way to heaven. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_176" id="V1_1_176"></a>CLXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In nocturnum et hyemale iter infantis Domini.</i> Matt. ii. 19-21.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo viatores teneros, cum Prole parentem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nox habet hos, queis est digna nec ulla dies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quid ad haec Pueri vel labra genasve parentis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heu, quid ad haec facient oscula, nox et hyems!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilia ad haec facerent, faceret rosa; quicquid et halat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aeterna Zephyrus qui tepet in viola.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hi meruere, quibus vel nox sit nulla; vel ulla<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si sit, eat nostra purius illa die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce sed hos quoque nox et hyems clausere tenellos:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et quis scit, quid nox, quid meditetur hyems?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, ne quid meditetur hyems saevire per Austros,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeque solet nigros nox mala ferre metus!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, ne noctis eat currus non mollibus Euris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aspera ne tetricos nuntiet aura Notos!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu, quot habent tenebrae, quot vera pericula secum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quot noctem dominam quantaque monstra colunt!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quot vaga quae falsis veniunt ludibria formis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Trux oculus, Stygio concolor ala Deo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu veris ea, sive vagis stant monstra figuris;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Virginei satis est hinc, satis inde metus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo veni; totoque veni resonantior arcu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cynthia, praegnantem clange procul pharetram.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Monstra vel ista vel illa, tuis sint meta sagittis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec fratris jaculum certior aura vehat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo veni, totoque veni, flagrantior ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dignaque Apollineas sustinuisse vices.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scis bene quid deceat Phoebi lucere sororem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ex his, si nescis, Cynthia, disce genis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O tua, in his, quanto lampas formosior iret!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nox suam, ab his, quanto malit habere diem!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quantum ageret tacitos haec luna modestior ignes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque verecundis sobria staret equis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luna, tuae non est rosa tam pudibunda diei,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec tam Virgineo fax tua flore tremit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo veni; sed et astra, tuas age, Cynthia, turmas:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illa oculos pueri, quos imitentur, habent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc oculo, hinc astro: at parili face nictat utrumque;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aetheris os, atque os aethereum Pueri.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aspice, quam bene res utriusque deceret utrumque!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam bene in alternas mutua regna manus!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille oculus coeli hoc si staret in aethere frontis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sive astrum hoc Pueri fronte sub aetherea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si Pueri hoc astrum aetherea sub fronte micaret,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Credat et hunc oculum non minus esse suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille oculus coeli, hoc si staret in aethere frontis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non minus in coelis se putet esse suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam pulchras variare vices cum fronte Puelli,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cumque Puelli oculis aether et astra queant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Astra quidem vellent; vellent aeterna pacisci<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foedera mutatae sedis inire vicem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aether et ipse, licet numero tam dispare, vellet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mutatis oculis tam bona pacta dari.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe iret coelum quanto melioribus astris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Astra sua hos oculos si modo habere queat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe astra in coelo quantum meliore micarent,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si frontem hanc possint coelum habuisse suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aether et astra velint: frustra velit aether et astra:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce negat Pueri frons, oculique negant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, neget illa, negent illi: nam quem aethera mallent<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Isti oculi? aut frons haec quae magis astra velit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid si aliquod blanda face lene renideat astrum?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lactea si coeli terque quaterque via est?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blandior hic oculus, roseo hoc qui ridet in ore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lactea frons haec est terque quaterque magis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo negent, coelumque suum sua sidera servent:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sidera de coelis non bene danda suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo negant: seque ecce sua sub nube recondunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sub tenera occidui nube supercilii:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec claudi contenta sui munimine coeli,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaerunt in gremio matris ubi lateant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non nisi sic tactis ubi nix tepet illa pruinis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Castaque non gelido frigore vernat hyems.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet iste dies tam pulchro vespere tingi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dignus; et hos soles sic decet occidere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Claudat purpureus qui claudit vesper Olympum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Puniceo placeas tu tibi, Phoebe, toro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dum tibi lascivam Thetis auget adultera noctem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pone per Hesperias strata pudenda rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illas nempe rosas, quas conscia purpura pinxit;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Culpa pudorque suus queis dedit esse rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hos soles, niveae noctes, castumque cubile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod purum sternet per mare virgo Thetis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hos, sancti flores; hos, tam sincera decebant<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lilia; quaeque sibi non rubuere rosae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hos, decuit sinus hic; ubi toto sidere proni<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce lavant sese lacteo in oceano.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Atque lavent: tandemque suo se mane resolvant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsa dies ex hoc ut bibat ore diem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These tender travellers, feel they Night's dark sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother and Child, too good for whitest day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For how will mother's cheeks, or lips of Child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How kisses fare, from Night and Winter wild?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lilies these, with roses, should be blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sweetest breath of violet-perfum'd West.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such travellers merited to have no night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if at all, one whiter than our light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter and Night these tender ones enclose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what Night plots, or Winter, ah, who knows?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, lest fell Winter with its north-winds rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill-omen'd Night its wonted fears engage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, lest rough east-winds should Night's chariot draw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or harsh south-winds should shake the heart with awe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What real perils troop in Darkness' train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over what monsters Night extends her reign:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What vagrant phantoms, which in false shapes go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern-ey'd, black-pinion'd, like the gods below!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But standing forth in false forms or in true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these, for those, a Virgin's dread is due.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come then, come, Cynthia, with resounding bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clang thy full-charg'd quiver at the foe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These monsters, those, thy darts unerring share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor truer aim thy brother's arrows bear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, then, O come, with all thy face a-flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worthy thyself to take Apollo's name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st how Phœbus' sister ought to shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not, learn, Cynthia, from these cheeks divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Placed here thy torch more beauty would display,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Night from hence prefer to draw its day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such moon more modest shed its silent beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shamefac'd stay her softly-going team.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Moon, thy day no rose so chaste resembles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy torch with no such virgin beauty trembles.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come then, but bring thy troops of stars likewise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they can try to shine like the Child's eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An eye, a star, twinkling with equal grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of heaven and the Child's heavenly face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How well the charm of each transferr'd would show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From hand to hand the mutual sceptres go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether heaven's eye should deck His skiey brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the Child's star adorn heaven's forehead now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the Child's star on heaven's forehead shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That eye would seem to Him not less His own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Place on His skiey forehead heaven's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less 'twould deem itself in its own sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such interchanges might the stars and skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make charmingly with the Child's brow and eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For change of place the stars indeed might like<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An everlasting treaty now to strike;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And differing though in numbers, e'en the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might wish to bargain for a change of eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With how much better stars the sky would shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If as its stars it had these eyes divine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stars would shine in how much better heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If as their sky this brow divine were given!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sky and stars may choose—in vain they choose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the Child's brow and His fair eyes refuse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, wisely; for these eyes what better heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could wish? what better stars to brow be given?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though some gentle star more softly gleams?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What if heaven's way thrice, four times, milky seems?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softer this eye which smiles in ruddy face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This milk-white brow, thrice, four times is its grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To quit their heaven, let then these stars deny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stars ought not to be ta'en from their own sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They do deny; and soon in cloud are hid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In tender shadow of the drooping lid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor with their own defence content they rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But seek a hiding-place in mother's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus the snow melts where His warm touch is plac'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And genial Spring blooms out of Winter chaste.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such day such evening-dew deserves to drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such suns in such a bed deserve to sink.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sky-closing Eve, thy purple veil entwine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sun, thy luxurious couch incarnadine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While wanton Thetis day too early closes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy shameless bed place 'mid Hesperian roses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses, forsooth, by conscious blushes painted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By sin with its own tell-tale redness tainted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nights snowy-white, chaste couch to these suns be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which virgin Thetis spreads o'er lucent sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All-holy flowers, lilies inviolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses with innocent blush upon them wait.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be theirs this bosom, where reclin'd all night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bathe themselves in ocean milky-white.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let them bathe, till their own morn say, rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Day itself drink splendour from these eyes. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_177" id="V1_1_177"></a>CLXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Non dico, me rogaturum Patrem pro vobis.</i> Joan. xvi. 26.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah tamen ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille suos omni facie te figit amores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque tuos toto effunditur ore sinus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe, tuos spectans oculos, se spectat in illis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque tuo, Jesu, se fovet ipse sinu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ex te metitur sese, et sua numina discit:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inde repercussus redditur ipse sibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille tibi se, te ille sibi par nectit utrinque:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam tuus est, ut nec sit magis ille suus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo roga: ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum ut ego rogitem? Hoc, eheu, non ore rogandum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ore satis puras non faciente preces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum ego si rogitem, quis scit quibus ille procellis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Surgat, et in miserum hoc quae tonet ira caput?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Isto etiam forsan veniet mihi fulmen ab ore:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saepe isto certe fulmen ab ore venit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille una irati forsan me cuspide verbi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Uno me nutu figet, et interii:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non ego, non rogitem: mihi scilicet ille roganti<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Durior esse potest, et solet esse, Pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo rogabo: nec ore meo tamen: immo rogabo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ore meo, Jesu, scilicet ore tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I do not say that I will pray the Father for you.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With favouring eyes He makes Thee all His love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toward Thine heart, Lord, His whole affections move.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beholding Thy fair eyes Himself He sees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Thy pure breast Himself He cherishes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Thee He metes Himself, His godhead learns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, sweet reversion! to Himself returns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He Thee, Thou He, in one Ye intertwine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is His own no more, He is so Thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall these lips, Lord, ask Him? But how should they?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rightful words and pure they fail to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I should ask Him, then, what tempests dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What anger thundering o'er this wretched head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His look perchance would gleam as lightning down—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, oft, I know, as lightning falls His frown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance the javelin of one angry word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One nod, would slay, and I should die unheard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I? I'll not ask: Lord, He is wont to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He easy proves unkind, if ask'd of me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, stay: I'll ask:—not with these lips of mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, with my lips,—my lips, Lord, namely Thine. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_178" id="V1_1_178"></a>CLXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In die ascensionis dominicae.</i> Act. i. 9, 10.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heu, coeli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera coeli,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phoebenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aether<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Νῦν ἔτι ἡμέτερόν σε, Χριστὲ, ἔχομεν τὸν ἔρωτα;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Οὐρανοῦ οὖν ὅσσον τὸν φθόνον ὡς ἔχομεν·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἀλλὰ ἔχωμεν. ἔχει ἑὰ μὲν τὰ δ' ἀγάλματα αἰθήρ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἄστρα τε καὶ Φοῖβον καὶ καλὰ τῶν νεφελῶν.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ὅσσον ἔην, ἡμῖν ὄφρ' εἴη ἕν τόδε ἄστρον;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἄστρον ἓν ἡμῖν ᾖ· εἰσί τοι ἄστρ' ἑκατόν.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Πάντα μάτην. ὅτι, Χριστὲ, σὺ οὐκ ἀνέβαινες ἐς αὐτόν,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Αὐτὸς μὲν κατέβη οὐρανὸς εἰς σὲ τεός.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the day of the Lord's ascension.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twere little they should leave one light below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_179" id="V1_1_179"></a>CLXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Caecus implorat Christum.</i> Marc. x. 46-52.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Νύκτ' ἐλέησον ἐμὴν, ἐλέησον. ναί τοι ἐκεῖνο,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Χριστὲ, ἐμοῦ ἦμαρ, νὺξ ὅδ' ἐμεῖο ἔχει.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἐκεῖνο, Θεὸς, δέεται τόδε γνώμης·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Μή μοι τοῦτ' αἴρῃς, δός μοι ἐκεῖνο φάος.<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a><br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blind man implores Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before my Lord to me His speech addresses?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_180" id="V1_1_180"></a>CLXXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex +illis, &c.</i> Luc. xv. 4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Εἶς μὲν ἐγὼ, ᾗ μοῦ πλάνη περιῆγεν, ἄλημι·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Εἶς δέ τοι σῶς ἔσομαι γηθοσύναι πλέονες.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἀμνὸς ὁ μὴ ποιῶν φόβον οὐ ποιεῖ δέ τε χάρμα.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Μεὶζων τῶν μὲν, ἐμοῦ χρεία δὲ γλυκυτέρη.<br /></span> +</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of +them, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O might I fire the angel-bands with joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They give no joy who never caus'd a fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_181" id="V1_1_181"></a>CLXXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti.</i> Act. xii. 2.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Ἐν μὲν, Ἰάκωβε, κεφαλήν τοι ξίφος ἀπῇρεν,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἓν τόδε καὶ στέφανον ξίφος ἔδωκε τεόν.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Μοῦνον ἀμείβεσθαι κεφαλὴν, Ἰάκωβε, δύναιτο,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Κεῖνος ὃδ' ὡς καλὸς μαρτυρίου στέφανος.<br /></span> +</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To Herod beheading St. James.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or how on his blest head thine anger broke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only this sacred sanguinary crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sunder'd head was able to weigh down. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_182" id="V1_1_182"></a>CLXXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur.</i> Matt. xx. 34.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Χεὶρ ἐπιβαλλομένη Χριστοῦ ἐπέβαλλεν ὀπωπῶν<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἄστρα· ὀπηδεύει κεῖνά γε χειρὶ Θεοῦ.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Χεὶρ αὓτη τούτοις πέλεν οὐρανός. ἄστρα γὰρ οἶμαι<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἐν χερὶ ταῦτ' οἴσει Χριστὸς ἔπειτα ἑῇ.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blind men having received their sight follow Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which on that hand with due observance wait.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which He will hold in His right hand one day. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_1_183" id="V1_1_183"></a>CLXXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Zachaeus in sycomoro.</i> Luc. xix. 4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0">Τίπτ' ἐπικομπάζεις κενεὸν ξείνῳ δέ τε καρπῷ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Καὶ φύλλοις σεμνὴ μὴ, συκόμωρε, τεοῖς;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Καὶ γὰρ ὅδ' ἐκκρήμνης σοῦ νῦν μετέωρος ἀπ' ἔρνους,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἀμπέλου ὁ κλαδὼν ἔσσεται οὐρανίου.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cluster soon will be of the True Vine. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_184" id="V1_1_184"></a>CLXXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>On our crucified Lord naked and bloody.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Th' have left Thee naked, Lord: O that they had!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This garment too I would they had deny'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee with Thyselfe they have too richly clad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opening the purple wardrobe of Thy side.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O never could bee found garments too good<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For Thee to weare, but these of Thine own blood.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_1_185" id="V1_1_185"></a>CLXXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Sampson to his Dalilah.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Could not once blinding me, cruell, suffice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When first I look't on thee, I lost mine eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span></div></div> + + + + +<h1><a name="SECULAR_EPIGRAMS" id="SECULAR_EPIGRAMS"></a>SECULAR EPIGRAMS.</h1> + + +<h3><a name="s_1" id="s_1"></a>I.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken +Heart.'</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak'st one seeme two by art:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is Love's Sacrifice but The Broken Heart?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_2" id="s_2"></a>II.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, sent to a gentlewoman.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo here the faire Chariclea, in whom strove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So false a fortune and so true a love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now after all her toyles by sea and land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O may she but arrive at your white hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hopes are crown'd; onely she feares that than<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee shall appeare true Ethiopian.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_3" id="s_3"></a>III.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>On marriage.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I would be married, but I'de have no wife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would be married to a single life.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_4" id="s_4"></a>IV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>On Nanus mounted upon an ant.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High-mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was throwne, alas, and got a deadly fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnder th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All torne: with much adoe yet ere he dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee straines these words: Base Envy, doe laugh on:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_5" id="s_5"></a>V.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, Mars his sword? faire Cytherea, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why art thou arm'd so desperately to-day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mars thou hast beaten naked; and, O then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What needst thou put on armes against poore men?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_6" id="s_6"></a>VI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vpon the same.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pallas saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cry'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come if thou dar'st; thus, thus let us be try'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="s_7" id="s_7"></a>VII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Out of Martiall.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Foure teeth thou hadst, that, ranck'd in goodly state,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Kept thy mouth's gate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first blast of thy cough left two alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The second, none.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This last cough, Delia, cought-out all thy feare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>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 (<span class="smcap">I.</span>) by Crashaw. The two Tragedies +celebrated, appeared in the same year, 1633. The 'Faire Ethiopian' +of <span class="smcap">II.</span> was doubtless William Lisle's poem so named [Lond. +1632],—not given by Hazlitt, <i>s.n.</i> The others are too well +known to need annotation. These are all preserved, with a +collection of others, in the Tanner <span class="smcap">MS.</span>, as before. G.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_1_2" id="Latin_Poems_1_2"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART FIRST. SACRED.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>II.</h2> + +<h2>EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.</h2> + +<p class="center">NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<p>It is my great privilege to be the first to print the following +extensive additions to the <i>Epigrammata Sacra</i> of Crashaw. +They are wholly derived from Archbishop Sancroft's <span class="smcap">MS.</span> in the +Bodleian, as described in our Preface (Vol. I. p. xx.-xxiii.) +and in the Preface to the present Volume. For their relation +to those published by the Author himself and in the editions of +1634 and 1670, see our Essay, as before. As with Crashaw's +own collection (of 1634), the Epigrams seem to have been composed +and written down on the spur of the moment as a subject +struck him, and hence there is the same absence of arrangement: +nor is it much to be lamented, seeing that each is independent. +As a rule, I follow the order of the manuscript. For +translations of fifteen of these fifty-five Epigrams, viz. Nos. 8, +9, 19, 24, 26, 32, 34, 35, 39, 46, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, and 55, I am +indebted, as for so much more throughout, to my excellent +poet-friend the Rev. <span class="smcap">Richard Wilton</span>, M.A., as before: for the +others, in Fuller's phrase, 'my meanness is responsible,' except +in a few instances wherein Crashaw has himself furnished +renderings, or at least little poems less or more corresponding +with the Latin; as pointed out in the places. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> <span class="source">G.</span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_p.png" width="550" height="138" alt="Decoration P" /> +</div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_1" id="V1_2_1"></a>I.</h3> + +<p class="center">Act. xxviii. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Paule, nihil metuas, non fert haec vipera virus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Virtutem vestrae vult didicisse manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oscula, non morsus; supplex, non applicat hostis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec metuenda venit, sed miseranda magis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>St. Paul and the viper.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Paul, fear thou nought; no poison bears this asp:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It seeks to learn the virtue of thy hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not as a foe, but suppliant, it would clasp;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not fear, but pity, it would fain command. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_2" id="V1_2_2"></a>II.</h3> + +<p class="center">Joan. vi. 14, 26.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam credunt, Deus es: Deus est, qui teste palato,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quique ipso demum est judice dente Deus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet haec sapiunt miracula: de quibus alvus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proficere, et possit pingue latus fluere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec sua fecisti populo miracula credunt.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gens pia, et in ventrem relligiosa suum!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The miracle of the loaves.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now truly they believe that Thou art God!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">God witnessèd by palate and by tooth!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They know the smack of miracles that load<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And swell their paunches; yea, believe, forsooth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a most pious race, Lord, Thou appealest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stomachs most believing Thou revealest. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_3" id="V1_2_3"></a>III.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In lacrymas Christi patientis.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saeve dolor! potes hoc? oculos quoque perpluis istos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O quam non meritas haec arat unda genas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O lacrymas ego flere tuas, ego dignior istud,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod tibi cunque cadit roris, habere meum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Siccine? me tibi flere tuas! ah, mi bone Jesu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si possem lacrymas vel mihi flere meas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flere meas? immo immo tuas, hoc si modo possem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non possem lacrymas, non ego flere meas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flere tuas est flere meas, tua lacryma, Christe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est mea vel lacryma est si tua, causa mea est.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Of the tears of the suffering Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O cruel Pain! I ask thee how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou canst do what thou'rt doing now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou also—or is't my fears?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drench His sweet eyes with scalding tears?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how that show'r furrows amain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His undeserving cheek, as rain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More meet it were that I should know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears that from His anguish flow:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">More meet it were that I should feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All dews that down His wan cheek steal:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O is it thus? Would that it were!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I might weep Thy laden tear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, blessèd Jesus, would that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mine own self could weeping lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine own tears weep? nay, they are Thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all Thy tears, alas, are mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, not a tear that Thou didst shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sorrow bow'd Thy sacred head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But came of human woe or guilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which at last Thy Blood was spilt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even if the tears were Thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being for my sake, they're rather mine. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_4" id="V1_2_4"></a>IV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In sepulcrum Domini.</i> Joan. xix. 38-42.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam cedant, veteris cedant miracula saxi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unde novus subito fluxerat amne latex.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu felix rupes, ubi se lux tertia tollet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flammarum sacro fonte superba flues.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The sepulchre of the Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yield place, ye wonders of the ancient stone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whence sudden-gushing streams were seen to flow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the third day, blest rock, on thee has shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proudly with fount of sacred fire thou'lt glow. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_5" id="V1_2_5"></a>V.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ubi amorem praecipit.</i> Joan. xiii. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sic magis in numeros morituraque carmina vivit<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dulcior extrema voce caducus olor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ut tu inter strepitus odii, et tua funera, Jesu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Totus amor liquido totus amore sonas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The parting words of Love.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">E'en as the dying swan, sweeter for failing breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dies not, but rather lives, in her last wistful song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost Thou, Lord, mid hate's din and close-approaching death,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Love, with melting voice, Thy dying love prolong. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_6" id="V1_2_6"></a>VI.</h3> + +<p class="center">Act. xii. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Euge, Deus—pleno populus fremit undique plausu—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Certe non hominem vox sonat, euge, Deus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed tamen iste Deus qui sit, vos dicite, vermes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Intima turba illi; vos fovet ille sinu.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Herod devoured of worms.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold a god! full-voic'd the people cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not man, but god, with shouts they him attest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What kind of god he is, ye worms, reply—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A crowd that know the secrets of his breast. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_7" id="V1_2_7"></a>VII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Bonum est nobis esse hic.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cur cupis hic adeo, dormitor Petre, manere?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Somnia non alibi tam bona, Petre, vides.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>It is good to be here.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why seek'st thou, drowsy Peter, here to stay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elsewhere such pleasant dreams thou see'st not, eh?<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_8" id="V1_2_8"></a>VIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Videte lilia agrorum ... nec Salomon, &c.</i> Matt. vi. 29.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Candide rex campi, cui floris eburnea pompa est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deque nivis fragili vellere longa toga;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purpureus Salomon impar tibi dicitur esto.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nempe, quod est melius, par fuit ille rosis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Look on the lilies of the field ... not Solomon, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O fairest monarch of the enamell'd field,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose is the blossom'd pomp of ivory splendour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whose the fleeces, snowy-white, which yield<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long-flowing robes immaculate and tender.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, not like lilies—'tis divinely spoken—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was Solomon, with sin encrimsonèd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not unlike—and 'tis a better token—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roses tear-wash'd, which hang the blushing head. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_9" id="V1_2_9"></a>IX.</h3> + +<p class="center">Marc. vii. 33, 36.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Voce manuque simul linguae tu, Christe, ciendae:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sistendae nudis vocibus usus eras.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sane at lingua equus est pronis effusus habenis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vox ciet, at sistit non nisi tota manus.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><i>The deaf healed.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To wake the tongue—voice, hand too, Christ would use;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To check it, but a bare word of command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Really, the tongue is as a horse rein'd-loose—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Starts at a word, stay'd only with strong hand. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_10" id="V1_2_10"></a>X.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In beatae Virginis verecundiam.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Non est hoc matris, sed, crede, modestia nati,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod virgo in gremium dejicit ora suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illic jam Deus est, oculus jam Virginis ergo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ut coelum videat, dejiciendus erit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The modesty of the blessed Virgin.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not humbleness of mother, but of Child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines in the downward gaze of Virgin mild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Virgin gazes where her God doth lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She must look down that Heaven may meet her eye. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_11" id="V1_2_11"></a>XI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Mitto vos sicut agnos in medio luporum.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hos quoque, an hos igitur saevi lacerabitis agnos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic saltem, hic vobis non licet esse lupis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sceleris nulla est clementia, at ergo scietis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Agnus qui nunc est, est aliquando Leo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These lambs also, e'en these, will ye, then, fiercely tear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here to be wolves, at least here, ye will never dare.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, the wicked still are cruel; but ye'll learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He Who is now a Lamb will one day Lion turn. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_12" id="V1_2_12"></a>XII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Christus a daemone vectus.</i> Matt. iv.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo ille, angelicis ô sarcina dignior alis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Praepete sic Stygio, sic volet ille vehi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pessime! nec laetare tamen tu scilicet inde,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non minus es daemon, non minus ille Deus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Christ carried by the devil.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will He—O burden worthier angels' wings!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deign to be carried by swift fiend of hell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vilest! to thee this no advancement brings;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He no less God, thou no less demon fell. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_13" id="V1_2_13"></a>XIII.</h3> + +<p class="center">Joan. i. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si vox es, sterilis cur tibi mater erat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam fuit ista tuae mira infoecundia matris!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In vocem sterilis rarior esse solet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>St. John the Baptist a voice.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I am a voice, a voice,' says holy John.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If so, how should thy mother barren be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is unfruitfulness to muse upon;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tongue-barren women we so seldom see! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_14" id="V1_2_14"></a>XIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vox Joannes, Christus Verbum.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Monstrat Joannes Christum, haud res mira videtur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vox unus, verbum scilicet alter erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christus Joanne est prior, haec res mira videtur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Voce sua verbum non solet esse prius.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>John the Voice, Christ the Word.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">John points out Christ; no wonder this we deem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One is a Voice, the other is the Word.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ is before John; wondrous this may seem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For when was word before a voice e'er heard? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_15" id="V1_2_15"></a>XV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In natales Domini pastoribus nuntiatos.</i> Luc. ii. 8-19.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ad te sydereis, ad te, bone Tityre, pennis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Purpureus juvenis gaudia tanta vehit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene te vigilem, cui gaudia tanta feruntur,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ut neque dum vigilas, te vigilare putes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quem sic monstrari voluit pastoribus aether,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pastor an agnus erat? Pastor et agnus erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipse Deus cum Pastor erit, quis non erit agnus?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quis non pastor erit, cum Deus agnus erit?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the birth of the Lord announced to the shepherds.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="sidenote">shepherd</span> +<span class="i0">To thee, good Tityrus, on starry wings <br /></span> +<span class="i0">The royal angel such 'glad tidings' brings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely the happy watcher never thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he was watching when such joys were brought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And He, Whom thus the heavenly host reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shepherds 'mid their flocks in open field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me, was He a Shepherd or a Lamb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shepherd and Lamb at once; He took each name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since, then, our God a Shepherd's name doth wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of lamb who will not wish to bear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who will not be shepherd, since God deigns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be a Lamb, for suffering of sin's pains? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_16" id="V1_2_16"></a>XVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Atheniensem merum.</i> Act. xvii. 28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ipsos naturae thalamos sapis, imaque rerum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Concilia, et primae quicquid agunt tenebrae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid dubitet refluum mare, quid vaga sydera volvant;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christus et est studiis res aliena tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic scire, est tantum nescire loquacius illa:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui nempe illa sapit sola, nec illa sapit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou knowest Nature's secret things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all her deepest counsellings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All wonders of the primal Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conceal'd from prying human sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowest how the sea-tide pauses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wandering stars too in their causes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But while to thee, in all else wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ from thy thoughts an alien lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In earthly studies to advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is but loquacious ignorance;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he whose wisdom is but such,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those things even knows not much.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, study thou beneath the Cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or all thy labour is but loss! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_17" id="V1_2_17"></a>XVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ego vitis vera.</i> Joan. xv. 1.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Credo quidem, sed et hoc hostis te credidit ipse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caiaphas, et Judas credidit ipse, reor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unde illis, Jesu, vitis nisi vera fuisses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tanta tui potuit sanguinis esse sitis?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I am the True Vine.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Believe!' e'en Caiaphas, thy foe, believèd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thee the True Vine; and Judas too, I think.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had they not, Lord, Thee as True Vine receivèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could they have thirsted so Thy Blood to drink? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_18" id="V1_2_18"></a>XVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Abscessum Christi queruntur Discipuli.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille abiit, jamque ô quae nos mala cunque manetis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sistite jam in nostras tela parata neces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sistite; nam quibus haec vos olim tela paratis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Abscessu Domini jam periere sui.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The departure of Christ lamented by the Disciples.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lord is gone; and now, all evils dire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hold back the darts which for our death you flourish:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, hold them back, nor waste on us your ire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For with our Lord's departure, lo, we perish. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_19" id="V1_2_19"></a>XIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In descensum Spiritus Sancti.</i> Act. ii. 1-4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quae vehit auratos nubes dulcissima nimbos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quis mitem pluviam lucidus imber agit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Agnosco, nostros haec nubes abstulit ignes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec nubes in nos jam redit igne pari.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O nubem gratam et memorem, quae noluit ultra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam saeve de se nos potuisse queri!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene; namque alio non posset rore rependi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Coelo exhalatum quod modo terra dedit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the descent of the Holy Spirit.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What sweetest cloud comes wafting golden shower?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What gentle raindrops bring their shining dower?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloud which stole our flame, our heart's desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This very cloud returns with equal fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O kindly-mindful cloud, which could not brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we should mourn thee with so sad a look!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis well; no other dew had countervail'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which from earth to heaven was late exhal'd. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_20" id="V1_2_20"></a>XX.</h3> + +<p class="center">Act. x. 39.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quis malus appendit de mortis stipite vitam?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O malus agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo, quis appendit vitae hac ex arbore mortem?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O bonus Agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wicked one affix'd Life to Death's tree?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O wretched gard'ner, call'st thou this engrafting?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, tell me who affix'd Death to Life's tree?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O noble Gard'ner, this I call engrafting. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_21" id="V1_2_21"></a>XXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Ego sum Ostium.</i> Joan. x. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jamque pates, cordisque seram gravis hasta reclusit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et clavi claves undique te reserant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, vereor, sibi ne manus impia clauserit illas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae coeli has ausa est sic aperire fores.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>I am the Doore.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now th' art set wide ope; the speare's sad art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, hath unlockt Thee at the very heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to himselfe—I feare the worst—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his owne hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath shut these doores of heaven, that durst<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus set them ope. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Thou art open wide; the barrier dear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Thy great heart unclos'd by cruel spear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nails as keys unlock Thee everywhere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, he whose wicked hand thus forc'd the gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heaven, perhaps at heaven's shut door will wait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One day, with outer darkness for his fate. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_22" id="V1_2_22"></a>XXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In spinas demtas a Christi capite cruentatas.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Accipe, an ignoscis? de te sata germina, miles.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam segeti est messis discolor illa suae!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quae tam duro gleba est tam grata colono?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inserit hic spinas: reddit et illa rosas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head bloody.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knowst thou this, souldier? 'tis a much-chang'd plant, which yet<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thyselfe didst set;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis chang'd indeed: did Autumn e're such beauties bring<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To shame his Spring?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, who so hard an husbandman could ever find<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A soyle so kind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not the soile a kind one, thinke ye, that returnes<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Roses for thornes? <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take, soldier—know'st them not?—thy planted germs;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A harvest how unlike to its seed-corn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What soil yields husbandman such kindly terms?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rose he gathers, where he planted thorn. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_23" id="V1_2_23"></a>XXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center">Joan. iii. 1-21.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nox erat, et Christum, Doctor male docte, petebas<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Christo tenebras depositure tuas.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +<span class="i0">Ille autem multo dum te bonus irrigat ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque per arcanas ducit in alta vias,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sol venit, et primo pandit se flore diei,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ludit et in dubiis aureus horror aquis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sol oritur; sed adhuc, et adhuc tamen, ô bone, nescis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sol oritur, tecum nox tamen est, et adhuc<br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non coeli, illa fuit, nox fuit illa tua.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Nicodemus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas night; and, Teacher all untaught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy darkness thou to Christ hast brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But while attent He speaks to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Benignant words, that thou mayst see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading higher still and higher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thy yearnings do aspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guiding thee, by sure grace given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through secret paths that reach to heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the Sun on thee is risen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bursting from his cloudy prison,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showing Him, the Life, the Way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flushing with first bloom of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quivering with a golden light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as on wav'ring seas gleams bright.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sun is risen; yet darkness lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good Nicodemus, on thine eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the night's thine own; for, lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All heav'n above doth lustrous glow. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_24" id="V1_2_24"></a>XXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Domitiano de S. Johanne ad portam Lat.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo ut inultus eas? sed nec tamen ibis inultus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic violare ausus meque meosque deos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ure oleo, lictor. Oleo parat urere lictor:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sed quem uri lictor credidit, unctus erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te quoque sic olei virtus malefida fefellit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic tua te Pallas, Domitiane, juvat?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To Domitian, concerning St. John commanded to be cast into a +caldron of boiling oil.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou go unpunish'd? That shall never be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since thou hast dar'd to mock my gods and me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burn him in oil!—The lictor oil prepares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the Saint anointed unawares!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such elusive virtue was the oil fraught!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such aid thy olive-loving Pallas brought!<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_25" id="V1_2_25"></a>XXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Baptistam vocem.</i> Joan. i. 23.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tantum habuit Baptista loqui, tot flumina rerum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ut bene Vox fuerit, praetereaque nihil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce autem Verbum est unum tantum ille loquutus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Uno sed Verbo cuncta loquutus erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The voice of the Baptist.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Baptist had to speak such floods of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That well he might be Voice and nothing more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one word only, lo, Christ speaks, which brings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In one word all: My soul that Word adore! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_2_26" id="V1_2_26"></a>XXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In D. Petrum angelo solutum.</i> Act. xii. 6, 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mors tibi et Herodes instant: cum nuncius ales<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gaudia fert, quae tu somnia ferre putas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid tantum dedit ille, rogo, tibi? Vincula solvit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mors tibi et Herodes nonne dedisset idem?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On St. Peter loosed by the angel.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death, Herod, press on thee; when angel's wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brings joys which thou supposest dreams to bring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What gave he thee? Thy chains burst at his touch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Death and Herod would have given as much. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_27" id="V1_2_27"></a>XXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Relictis omnibus sequuti sunt eum.</i> Luc. v. 28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ad nutum Domini abjecisti retia, Petre.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam bene non unquam jacta fuere prius.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hoc recte jacere est tua retia, Petre,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nimirum, Christus cum jubet, abjicere.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On St. Peter casting away his nets at our Saviour's call.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cast thy nets on all occasions well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Christ calls, and thy nets would have thee stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cast them well's to cast them quite away. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the Lord's word thy nets were cast away:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never before thy nets so well were cast.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rightly to cast them is to cast away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When once The Master's order has been pass'd. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_28" id="V1_2_28"></a>XXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Agnus Dei, qui tollit peccata mundi.</i> Joan. i. 36.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo tot heu, torvas facies, tot in ora leonum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tot castra lupum qui meat, Agnus erit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic tot in horribiles, quot sunt mea crimina, pardos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic tot in audaces ungue vel ore feras?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah melius, pugiles quis enim commiserit istos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quos sua non faciunt arma vel ira pares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Lamb of God, Who bears away the sins of the world.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shall He, then, be a Lamb, to go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth against such various foe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lions ravenous, great of jaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wolves in vast herds, of mighty paw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pards vengeful, prowling out and in—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frightful, num'rous as my sin—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awful of face, and gaunt and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merciless to mangle limb by limb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, goest Thou, gentle One, 'gainst these?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And does terror upon Thee seize?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how unequal is the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the prey so grand a life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such as these to fight art fated?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor in arms nor passion mated. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_29" id="V1_2_29"></a>XXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pisces multiplicati.</i> Joan. xxi. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quae secreta meant taciti tibi retia verbi,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Queis non tam pisces quam capis Oceanum?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The miraculous draught of fishes.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What nets, hid in Thy silent word,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Passest Thou on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which not fish Thou takest, Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But the Ocean? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_30" id="V1_2_30"></a>XXX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Domine, non solum pedes, sed et caput, &c.</i> Joan. xiii. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">En caput, atque suis quae plus satis ora laborant<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sordibus; huc fluvios, ais [et] adde tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil opus est; namque haec, modo tertius occinat ales,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">E fluviis fuerint, Petre, lavanda suis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Lord, not my feet only, but also my head, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Behold my head, behold my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which sin's filthiest stains deface:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here pour Thy streams:' thou say'st to Me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, Peter, needs not this for thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ere the cock a third time crow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rivers of its own tears must flow. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_31" id="V1_2_31"></a>XXXI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant.</i> Joan. xii. 37.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quanta amor ille tuus se cunque levaverit ala,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo tua cunque opere effloruit alta manus;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +<span class="i0">Mundus adest, contraque tonat, signisque reponit<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Signa, adeo sua sunt numina vel sceleri,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imo, ô nec nimii vis sit temeraria verbi,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille uno sensu vel tua cuncta premit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tot tantisque tuis mirac'lum hoc objicit unum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tot tantisque tuis non adhibere fidem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Though they beheld so many miracles, they believed not.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">However high in Thy great love Thou wingest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whatsoe'er within Thy hand Thou bringest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against Thee, with its thunders, stands the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sign answering sign; Sin's banners all unfurl'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay—and let not the bold rash word appal—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thought o' the world makes all Thy wonders fall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against Thy mightiest signs this one it wields—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the vast whole of Thine, no faith it yields. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_32" id="V1_2_32"></a>XXXII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In nubem, quae Dominum abstulit.</i> Act. i. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O nigra haec! quid enim mihi candida pectora monstrat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pectora cygneis candidiora genis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit vero magis alba, suo magis aurea Phoebo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quantumcunque sibi candida; nigra mihi est.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nigra mihi nubes! et qua neque nigrior Austros,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vel tulit irati nuntia tela Dei.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nigra! licet nimbos, noctem neque detulit ullam.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si noctem non fert, at rapit, ecce, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the cloud which received the Lord.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, this black cloud! a white breast does it show—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A breast more white than a swan's neck of snow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More bright than golden sunshine let it be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">However fair itself, 'tis black to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From blacker cloud ne'er issu'd stormy blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor thunderbolts of angry heaven were cast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black! though no showers or shadows round it play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Night it bring not, yet it takes our Day. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_33" id="V1_2_33"></a>XXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Vidit urbem, et flevit super eam.</i> Luc. xix. 41, 42.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo meas spernis lacrymas, urbs perfida? Sperne.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sperne meas, quas ô sic facis esse tuas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempus erit, lacrymas poterit cum lacryma demum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nostra, nec immerito, spernere spreta tuas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He saw the city, and wept over it.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why scornest thou My tears, deceitful city?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scorn, scorn My tears, and thus thou mak'st them thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The time will come when thou shalt seek My pity;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I shall scorn thy tears, as thou scorn'st Mine. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_34" id="V1_2_34"></a>XXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nec sicut iste publicanus.</i> Luc. xviii. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu quoque dum istius miseri peccata fateris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae nec is irato mitius ungue notat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic satis est gemino bonus in sua crimina telo.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Interea, quid erit, mi Pharisaee, tuis?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Nor even as this publican.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thou too dost this wretch's sins confess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he with hand and tongue deplores no less;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he 'gainst his own crimes twice just will be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thinks he meanwhile of the Pharisee? <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_35" id="V1_2_35"></a>XXXV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Accedentes Discipuli excitaverunt eum.</i> Matt. viii. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, quis erat furor hos, tam raros, solvere somnos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O vos, queis Christi vel sopor invigilat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illum si somnus tenuit, vos somnia terrent,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Somnia tam vanos ingeminata metus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil Christi nocuit somnus, mihi credite. Somnus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui nocuit, vestrae somnus erat fidei.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>His Disciples came and awoke Him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What madness this, slumbers so rare to break,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ye, for whom even Christ's sleep doth wake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If sleep held Him, ye're terrified by dreams—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams which redouble fear that only seems.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ's sleep nought injur'd you, indeed 'tis true:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your faith's sleep, and that only, injur'd you. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_36" id="V1_2_36"></a>XXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In mulierem Canaanaeam cum Domino decertantem.</i> +Matt. xv. 22-28.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cedit io jam, jamque cadet modo, fortiter urge,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam tua ni desit dextera, jamque cadet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nimirum hoc velit ipse, tuo favet ipse triumpho,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipse tuas tacitus res tuus hostis agit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quas patitur facit ille manus; ictu ille sub omni est;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque in te vires sentit, amatque suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Usque adeo haud tuus hic ferus est, neque ferreus hostis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Usque adeo est miles non truculentus Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illo quam facilis victoria surgit ab hoste,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui, tantum ut vinci possit, in arma venit!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The woman of Canaan.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now He yieldeth, now He falleth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thy passion on Him calleth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press thee nigher still and nigher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urge thee higher still and higher;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleave and cling, nor let thy hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cease to plead, nor fearing stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thy triumph sees with gladness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loves thee in thy clinging sadness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems thy foe, yet ne'ertheless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yearns in His heart of love to bless;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Willing bears thy every blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from His own pow'r doth flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loves to hear thy interceding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own voice within thee pleading.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, this seeming en'my of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fierceness giveth thee no sign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Love no grim soldier is,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rough and severe, denying bliss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eas'ly is that victory won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the foe seeks to be undone. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_37" id="V1_2_37"></a>XXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Quare comedit Magister vester cum peccatoribus, &c.</i> +Matt. ix. 11.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Siccine fraternos fastidis, improbe, morbos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cum tuus, et gravior, te quoque morbus habet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tantum ausus medicum morbus sibi quaerere, magnus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tantum ausus medicum spernere, major erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Wherefore eateth your Master with sinners, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dost loathe thy brother, Pharisee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since his disease to Christ he brings?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knowest not that all men see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Disease to thee more deadly clings?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he dare seek Healer so great,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shows great his disease to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou dar'st scorn on Him to wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shows a greater cleaves to thee. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_38" id="V1_2_38"></a>XXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In febricitantem et hydropicum sanatos.</i> Marc. i. 30, 31; +Luc. xiv. 2-4.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nuper lecta gravem extinxit pia pagina febrem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hydropi siccos dat modo lecta sinus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec vice fraterna quam se miracula tangunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque per alternum fida juvamen amant!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe ignes istos his quam bene mersit in undis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ignibus his illas quam bene vicit aquas!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Miracles of healing the men sick of fever and of dropsy.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We read within the sacred page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ quench'd a fever's burning rage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read that a dropsy's swollen flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ebb'd at His word e'en as He stood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well join'd these mir'cles each to other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As loving brother unto brother:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How well these waters drown'd that flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fire these waters overcame! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_39" id="V1_2_39"></a>XXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In S. Lucam medicum.</i> Col. iv. 14.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hanc, mihi quam miseram faciunt mea crimina vitam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hanc, medici, longam vestra medela facit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc'ne diu est vixisse? diu, mihi credite, non est<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc vixisse; diu sed timuisse mori.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu foliis, Medice alme, tuis medicamina praebes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et medicaminibus, quae mala summa, malis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc mortem bene vitare est, vitare ferendo.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et vixisse diu est hoc, cito posse mori.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>To St. Luke the physician.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This life my sins with wretchedness make rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Physicians by their art prolong this life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is this to live long time? I hear one sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is but fearing a long time to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy leaves, Physician blest, medicines contain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en for our medicines poor, our chiefest bane.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is to escape death well—in death to lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this is to live long—quickly to die. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_40" id="V1_2_40"></a>XL.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Tollat crucem suam, &c.</i> Matt. xxvii. 32.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo tuam pone; ut nobis sit sumere nostram:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si nostram vis nos sumere, pone tuam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa, illa, ingenti quae te trabe duplicat, illa<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vel nostra est, nostras vel tulit illa cruces.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He bears His own cross, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherefore Thy cross, O Lord, lay down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That we our own may make it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ours Thou willest us to own,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thine, Lord, lay down; we'll take it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, that, I say, with its huge beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which Thy prest body doubles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cross, e'en that, our own we deem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For it has borne our troubles.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our sin Thy burden sendeth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy cross our crosses blendeth. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_41" id="V1_2_41"></a>XLI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In cygneam D. Jesu cantionem.</i> Joan. xvii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quae mella, ô quot, Christe, favos in carmina fundis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dulcis et, ah furias! ah, moribundus olor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parce tamen, minus hae si sunt mea gaudia voces:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Voce quidem dulci, sed moriente canis.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse with His disciples.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All Hybla's honey, all that sweetnesse can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowes in Thy song, O faire, O dying Swan!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet is the joy I take in't small or none;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is too sweet to be a long-liv'd one. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.<br /> +<i>On the swan-song of our Lord Jesus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What songs, like honeycomb, your tongue employ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet Swan! but ah, Thou waitest for Death's call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O cease; these sounds are but a doubtful joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis a sweet voice, but has a dying fall. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_42" id="V1_2_42"></a>XLII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Et conspuebant illum.</i> Marc. xiv. 65.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid non tam foede saevi maris audeat ira?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Conspuit ecce oculos, sydera nostra, tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsan et hic aliquis sputo te excaecat, Jesu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui debet sputo, quod videt ipse, tuo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>And they spat upon Him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What will Wrath's sea, so foully fierce, not dare?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It spits upon our stars, Thy eyes so fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance e'en here some one now spits on Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who to Thy spittle owes it, he doth see. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_43" id="V1_2_43"></a>XLIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Rogavit eum, ut descenderet et sanaret filium suum.</i> Joan. iv. 47.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille ut eat tecum, in natique tuique salutem?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui petis; ah nescis, credo, quod ales Amor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille ut eat tecum? quam se tua vota morantur!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille ut eat? tanto serius esset ibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne tardus veniat, Christus tecum ire recusat:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christi nempe ipsum hoc ire moratur iter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christi nempe viis perit hoc quodcunque meatur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Christi nempe viis vel properare mora est.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic est, cui tu vota facis tua, Christus: at idem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crede mihi, dabit haec qui rata, Christus ibi est.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>He besought that He would go with him and heal his son.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That He would go with thee thou pleadest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As for thy child thou intercedest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, little knowest thou how Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as descendeth from Above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swifter far is than feet can go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or any motion here below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Go with thee?' O how strange request!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wouldst later then be blest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That He may not slowlier come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ will not travel with thee home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For so to 'go' were to delay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All paths unneeded by The Way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ to Whom thou speakest pleading,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ with Whom thou'rt interceding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is here, and yet is yonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as is the bolt of thunder:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thy heart's desire will give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have thou faith, thy child shall live. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_44" id="V1_2_44"></a>XLIV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Pavor enim occupaverat eum super capturam piscium.</i> Luc. v. 9.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dum nimium in captis per te, Petre, piscibus haeres,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Piscibus, ut video, captus es ipse tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rem scio, te praedam Christus sibi cepit: et illi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Una in te ex istis omnibus esca fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>For dread came upon him at the great draught of fishes.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whilst, Peter, thou art so astonishèd<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At thy draught of fishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks thyself by them art captive led:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Christ to catch thee wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So as one bait He setteth all these fishes. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_45" id="V1_2_45"></a>XLV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Viderunt et oderunt me.</i> Joan. xv. 24.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vidit? et odit adhuc? Ah, te non vidit, Jesu.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non vidit te, qui vidit, et odit adhuc.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non vidit, te non vidit, dulcissime rerum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In te qui vidit quid, quod amare neget.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>But now they have seen and hated.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seene, and yet hated Thee? They did not see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw Thee not, that saw and hated Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, no, they saw Thee not, O Life, O Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saw aught in Thee that their hate could move. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See Thee, Lord, and hated still?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, that were impossible:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">See and hate? He saw Thee never<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who could see, nor love for ever.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Thou, the all-lovely One,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath had no vision<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who can see and hate; for why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speck nor stain may none descry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Thy lowly, lofty Face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full of sweetness, love, and grace. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_46" id="V1_2_46"></a>XLVI.</h3> + +<p class="center">Luc. xviii. 39.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu mala turba tace; mihi tam mea vota propinquant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tuque in me linguam vis tacuisse meam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc ego, tunc taceam, mihi cum meus Ille loquetur.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae tam laeta tuo ridet in ore diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec mea quam, fidei, nox habet ipsa, diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa dies animi, Jesu, rogat hanc oculorum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The blind suppliant.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before my Lord to me His speech, etc.<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Silence, silence, O vile crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, I will now cry aloud:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes near, Who is to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light and life and liberty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence seek ye? yes, I'll be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent when He speaks to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He my Hope; ah, meek and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall 'bide His holy will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O crowd, ye it may surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But His voice holdeth my eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O have pity on my night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the day that gives glad light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O have pity on my night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the day would lose its light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it gat not of Thee sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O have pity on my night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By day of faith upspringing bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That day within my soul that burns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for eyes' day unto Thee turns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, O Lord, give me this day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor do Thou take that away. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="V1_2_47" id="V1_2_47"></a>XLVII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Pharisaeos Christi verbis insidiantes.</i> Matt. xxii. 15.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O quam te miseri ludunt vaga taedia voti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ex ore hoc speras qui, Pharisaee, malum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic quis ab Aurorae noctem speraverit ulnis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unde solet primis Sol tener ire rosis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic Acheronta petas illinc unde amne corusco<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lactea sydereos Cynthia lavit equos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic violas aconita roges: sic toxica nympham,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Garrula quae vitreo gurgite vexat humum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Denique, ut exemplo res haec propriore patescat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A te sic speret quis, Pharisaee, bonum?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The Pharisees insidiously watching the words of Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O self-baffl'd Pharisee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly dost thou weary thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoping at His holy mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch other than the Truth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stainless, holy, pure is He,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guileless as Simplicity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would e'er expect black Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the bosom of the Light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the young sun in splendour burns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dawn to roses turns?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, again, would seek to mark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Acheron plunging i' the dark,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where white Cynthia's starry steeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lave them by the glitt'ring meads?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would aconite think to get<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fragrant violet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, watching by the babbling rill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gushing in pureness from the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think thence poison to distil?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fine, instance nearer thee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would any ever hope to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aught of good in Pharisee? <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_48" id="V1_2_48"></a>XLVIII.</h3> + +<p class="center">Matt. ix. 20.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Falleris, et nudum male ponis, pictor, Amorem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non nudum facis hunc, cum sine veste facis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nonne hic est, dum sic digito patet ille fideli,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tunc cum vestitus, tunc quoque nudus Amor?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Touched the hem of His garment.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Erringly, painter, thou portrayst Love bare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not bare you make him, though no clothes he wear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, while laid open to believing hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though clothed indeed, bare truly see Him stand. <span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_49" id="V1_2_49"></a>XLIX.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tolle oculos, tolle, ô tecum tua sydera nostros.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah quid enim, quid agant hic sine sole suo?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Id quod agant sine sole suo tua sydera, coelum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Id terrae haec agerent hic sine sole suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa suo sine sole suis caeca imbribus essent:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caeca suis lacrymis haec sine sole suo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The departing Saviour.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O take, take with Thee, Lord, Thy stars, our eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What would they do left here without their sun?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en what your sunless stars would do, ye skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would here by sunless stars of earth be done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without their sun, those dark with showers we see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These without sun, dark with their tears would be. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_50" id="V1_2_50"></a>L.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Nam ego non solum vinciri, &c.</i> Act. xxi. 13.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid mortem objicitis nostro, quid vinc'la timori?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non timor est illinc, non timor inde meus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vincula, quae timeam, sunt vincula sola timoris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sola timenda mihi est mors, timuisse mori.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Paul unfearing.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why talk of death or bonds to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if these things a fear could be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My fear springeth not from thence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor in these is influence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me to trouble or alarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me to fret, or me to harm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only bonds that fearful are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the bonds themselves of fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only death looks dreadfully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is lest I should fear to die. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_51" id="V1_2_51"></a>LI.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Legatio Baptistae ad Christum.</i> Matt. xi.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oro, quis es? legat ista suo Baptista Magistro.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illi quae referant, talia Christus habet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cui caecus cernit, mutus se in verba resolvit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It claudus, vivit mortuus: oro, quis est?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>The message of the Baptist to Christ.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I ask, Who art Thou? is the Baptist's word.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straight from his Master this reply is heard:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He by whose mighty power dumb speak, blind see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lame walk, dead live: Who is This? I ask thee. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_52" id="V1_2_52"></a>LII.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Accipe dona, puer, parvae libamina laudis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Accipe, non meritis accipienda suis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accipe dona, puer dulcis; dumque accipis illa,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Digna quoque efficies, quae, puer, accipies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sive oculo, sive illa tua dignabere dextra;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dextram oculumque dabis posse decere tuum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non modo es in dantes, sed et ipsa in dona benignus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec tantum donans das, sed et accipiens.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Gifts to Jesus.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take, Lord, these gifts, small offerings of our hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though their own worth acceptance none command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take, and while taking them, Thou Saviour sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en what Thou takest, Thou wilt render meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether Thou deem them worthy eye or touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt be able, Lord, to make them such:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kind e'en to gifts themselves, as to those giving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou givest both when giving and receiving. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_53" id="V1_2_53"></a>LIII.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In partum B. Virginis non difficilem.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nec facta est tamen illa parens impune, quod almi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam parcens uteri venerit ille puer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Una haec nascentis quodcunque pepercerit hora.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Toto illum vitae tempore parturiit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaudia parturientis erat semel ille parenti;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quotidie gemitus parturientis erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not lightly she escap'd a mother's doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although her Child dealt gently with her womb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er was spar'd at the one hour of birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She travail'd with Him all His time on earth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy of childbirth quickly pass'd away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She felt the pangs of childbirth every day. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_54" id="V1_2_54"></a>LIV.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Circulus hic similem quam par sibi pergit in orbem!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Principiumque suum quam bene finis amat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgineo thalamo quam pulchre convenit ille,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo nemo jacuit, virgineus tumulus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undique ut haec aequo passu res iret; et ille<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Josepho desponsatus, et ille fuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Upon our Saviour's tombe, wherein never man was laid.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How life and death in Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Agree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hadst a virgin wombe<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And tombe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Joseph did betroth<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Them both. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See how a circle tends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beginning as it ends:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold a virgin womb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold a virgin tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, and wonder at the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Joseph was espous'd to both! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_55" id="V1_2_55"></a>LV.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>In Sanctum igneis linguis descendentem Spiritum.</i> Act. ii. 3.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Absint, qui ficto simulant pia pectora vultu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ignea quos luteo pectore lingua beat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc potius mea vota rogant, mea thura petessunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ut mihi sit mea mens ignea, lingua luti.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>On the Holy Spirit descending in fiery tongues.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Begone, who goodness feign with a false face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom fiery tongues in earthy bosom grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rather all my prayers and gifts desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tongue of earth, if but my heart be fire. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_56" id="V1_2_56"></a>LVI.</h3> + +<p class="center">LIFE FOR DEATH.<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Whosoever will loose his life, &c.</i> Matt. xvi. 25.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soe I may gaine Thy death, my life I'le giue,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My life's Thy death, and in Thy death I liue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else, my life, I'le hide thee in His graue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By three daies losse æternally to saue. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="V1_2_57" id="V1_2_57"></a>LVII.</h3> + +<p class="center">ON THE DIVINE LOVE: AFTER H. HUGO.<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a></p> + +<p class="center"><i>In amorem divinum</i> (Hermannus Hugo).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Æternall Loue! what 'tis to loue Thee well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None but himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, what to be lou'd of Thee as well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None, not himselfe who feeles it, none can tell. <span class="smcap source">Cr.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a><br /><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a></span></p> + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_1_3" id="Latin_Poems_1_3"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART FIRST. SACRED.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>III.</h2> + +<p class="center">HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED.</p> + +<p class="center">1648.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Whether intentionally, or with his usual carelessness, the +two following important and characteristic Poems are not given +in Turnbull's edition; and they seem entirely to have escaped +the knowledge of even admirers of Crashaw. They appeared +originally in the 'Steps of the Temple' of 1648 (pp. 103-105), +and were naturally excluded from the Paris collection of 1652, +and overlooked in the edition of 1670. See their biographic +significance in our Essay in the present Volume. For the second +translation (viz. of Baptismus &c.) I tender thanks to my +good friend Rev. J.H. Clark, M.A., as before; the other and +somewhat difficult one (Fides &c.) I have myself done. G.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h3><a name="FIDES_QUAE_SOLA_JUSTIFICAT" id="FIDES_QUAE_SOLA_JUSTIFICAT"></a>FIDES, QUAE SOLA JUSTIFICAT,</h3> + +<p class="center">NON EST SINE SPE ET DILECTIONE.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nam neque tam sola est. O quis male censor amarus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam socias negat in mutua sceptra manus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deme Fidem; nec aget, nec erit jam nomen Amoris:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et vel erit, vel aget quid sine Amore Fides?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo, Amor, i, morere; i, magnas, Puer alme, per umbras<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Elysiis non tam numen inane locis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene, quod pharetra hoc saltem tua praestat et arcus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne tibi in extremos sit pyra nulla rogos!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene, quod tuus has saltem tibi providet ignis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tu quas possis funera ferre faces!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Durus es, ah, quisquis tam dulcia vincula solvis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae ligat, et quibus est ipse ligatus Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene junctarum divortia saeva sororum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam penitus mixtas quae tenuere manus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quae, tam varia, in tam mutua viscera vivunt?<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut ubi, quae duo sunt, tam prope sunt eadem?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alternis sese circum amplectuntur in ulnis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Extraque et supra, subter et intus eunt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non tam Nympha tenax, Baccho jam mista marito,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> +<span class="i1">Abdidit in liquidos mascula vina sinus.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compare jam dempto, saltem sua murmura servat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turtur, et in viduos vivit amara modos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Fidei sit demptus Amor; non illa dolebit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non erit impatiens aegraque; jam moritur.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Palma, marem cui tristis hyems procul abstulit umbram,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Protinus in viridem procubuit faciem?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undique circumfert caput, omnibus annuit Euris;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Siqua maritalem misceat aura comam:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah misera, expectat longum, lentumque expirat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et demum totis excutitur foliis.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sine Amore Fides nec tantum vivere perstat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo dici possit vel moritura Fides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mortua jam nunc est: nisi demum mortua non est<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Corporea haec, anima deficiente, domus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Corpore ab hoc Fidei hanc animam si demis Amoris,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam tua sola quidem est, sed male sola Fides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hectore ab hoc, currus quem jam nunc sentit Achillis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hectora eum speres quem modo sensit herus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tristes exuvias, Oetaei frusta furoris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vanus, in Alcidae nomen et acta vocas?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vel satis in monstra haec, plus quam Nemeaea, malorum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc Fidei torvum et triste cadaver erit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immo, Fidem usque suos velut ipse Amor ardet amores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic in Amore fidem comprobat ipsa Fides.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ERGO:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illa Fides vacua quae sola superbiat aula,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam Spes desperet, quam nee amabit Amor;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sola Fides haec, tam misere, tam desolate<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sola, quod ad nos est, sola sit usque licet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sociis quae sola suis, a se quoque sola est.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae sibi tam nimia est, sit mihi nulla Fides.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>In line 10 we have corrected an evident but long-continued +misprint in the original text of 'In tu aquas' by reading 'In tu +quas,' and translate accordingly. G.</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>FAITH, WHICH ALONE JUSTIFIES,</big></p> + +<p class="center">EXISTS NOT WITHOUT HOPE AND LOVE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Faith which only justifies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sinner as in guilt he lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd aneath the awful blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clinging to the uplifted rood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not alone so as nor Love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor heavenly Hope may in it move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thrill with touch of ecstasy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bruisèd heart, the swimming eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What, censor! bitter to ill end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou thy dogma still defend?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wouldest thou to hands allied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mutual sceptres see denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snapping betwixt Faith and Love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tie that binds them from Above?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell thee nay, stone-hearted one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Faith of Christ is not alone:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Faith away, and Love will sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Hope away, and Faith will die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Faith away, Love will do naught;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Love away, and Faith's distraught:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I tell thee, vain sophister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're as sister unto sister.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But mark, this Love that brings Faith joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not blind Cupid. Ah, bright Boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begone; thou shalt not, wouldst thou, stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, get thee swift from light o' day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, get thee now to the vast shades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there indulge thy escapades:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou in Elysian realms mayst reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fitting deity, not vain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go therefore, and with thee thy bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quiver. Well it is below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That these for thee shall form a pyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which thy torch will furnish fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, ah, thou hast a heart of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who wouldest make Faith live alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loos'ning the sweet ties Love has found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bind Faith to her, herself bound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, it is cruel thus to sever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sisters whom God hath joinèd ever;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose claspèd hands so closely cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en as vine-tendrils ring on ring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may not tell there's more than one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So absolute the union.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where shall you find beneath the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two differing so variously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet each life in other bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch one, the other you shall wound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or where, 'mid all the pairs on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twins through marriage or through birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall you find two so truly one?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arms twining in affection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They clasp each other, chin to chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above, below, without, within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embracing and embrac'd by turns;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not with such wild-fire as burns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Lust's hot touch, and clasp and grasp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eager and stinging as tongue of asp.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so closely interwine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The graceful Elm and clinging Vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to bosom of the tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bacchus' clusters prest you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Nymph the fruit receives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hides it amid dewy leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the poets tell of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In legends of the Age of Gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faith and Love know no such flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their pure twining brings no shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look for taint, you'll find it missing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis as flower flower kissing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or twin-roses dewy dripping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twin-bees their honey sipping.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Turtle-dove, robb'd of her mate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pines and mourns disconsolate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still lives on in widow'd grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowing at times Hope's sweet relief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Faith when once of Love bereft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loses her all, has nothing left;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor mourns nor frets nor pales—she's dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struck to the heart astonièd.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Palm that by the wintry blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees her companion-tree downcast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose mighty shadow o'er her threw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protection when the fierce storm blew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her umbrage sheds, and quivering<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeks that some fav'ring wind would bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her branches with his boughs to mingle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since she is left in sadness, single;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretched, she wears and wastes away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaf following leaf in wan decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until at last, naked and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shivers in the piercing air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the Spring comes, Winter sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis vain to call her—she is dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But when Love from Faith is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith lingers not still on and on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That while her form yet meets your eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You can pronounce 'She'll surely die.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">She's dead</span> i' the instant: or you will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maintain a stark corpse liveth still,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul has pass'd beyond the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunder'd until the last great Cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith is the body, Love the soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Love from it, you take the whole:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, now indeed thy Faith's alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But being alone, lo, it is none.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make it clear, turn Homer's page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That paints Achilles' hate and rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, having mighty Hector slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dragg'd him dead over the plain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Hector whom the chariot feels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dragg'd helpless, lifeless at its wheels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was it the same who, with proud crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That chariot's lord had lately prest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eager the victory to wrest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hercules' name and deeds dost see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Œta's bloody tragedy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When dead the mighty hero lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of jealousy the poison'd prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His living strength the lion slew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hide Nemæan round him threw:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Gainst more than lion-rage of Death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost summon the sad corpse of Faith?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure Love with love for Faith will burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Faith herself trusts Love in turn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">THEREFORE:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Faith alone, lording it high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Hope despairs of, and with cry<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +<span class="i1">Of anguish Love can never love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is not the Faith sent from Above:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Faith that thus would be alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What is't to us—desolate, lone?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faith then, that lovèd will not love<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor hope—may no such Faith me move!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But ever in my bosom lie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faith, Hope, and Love in trinity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, Love himself shall Faith's best lover prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Faith confirm his strongest faith in Love. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="BAPTISMUS_NON_TOLLIT_FUTURA_PECCATA" id="BAPTISMUS_NON_TOLLIT_FUTURA_PECCATA"></a>BAPTISMUS NON TOLLIT FUTURA PECCATA.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quisquis es ille tener modo quem tua mater<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> Achilles<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Stygis aethereae provida tinxit aquis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sanus, sed non securus dimitteris illinc:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In nova non tutus vulnera vivis adhuc.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille patent aditus; et plus quam calce petendus<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ad nigri metues spicula mille dei.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod si est vera salus, veterem meminisse salutem;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si nempe hoc vere est esse, fuisse pium;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa tibi veteres navis quae vicerat Austros,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si manet in mediis usque superstes aquis;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ac dum tu miseros in littore visis amicos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et peccatorum triste sodalitium,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +<span class="i0">Illa tibi interea tutis trahet otia velis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Expectans donec tu rediisse queas:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin igitur da vina, puer; da vivere vitae;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mitte suum senibus, mitte supercilium;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Donemus timide, ô socii, sua frigora brumae:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aeternae teneant hic nova regna rosae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, non tam tetricos sic eluctabimur Euros;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Effractam non est sic revocare ratem.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has undas aliis decet ergo extinguere in undis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Naufragium hoc alio immergere naufragio:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Possit ut ille malis oculus modo naufragus undis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam lacrymis melius naufragus esse suis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">BAPTISM CANCELS NOT AFTER-SINS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O young Achilles, whom a mother's care<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath dipp'd as in a sacred Stygian wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whole, but yet not secure, thou hence dost fare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For there are wounds from which it will not save.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand ways of entrance open lie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For evil; not alone against thy heel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prince of darkness in his rage lets-fly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The thousand arrows thou mayst dread to feel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if remember'd health may still have given<br /></span> +<span class="i1">True health, and to have been is still to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou seem'st as one whose bark, by storms unriven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still rides, as yet unconquer'd, on the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +<span class="i0">And, while on shore thy friends thou visitest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sad company of them that sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With furlèd sails upon the waves at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy bark floats idly till thou art within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if for this thou criest overbold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Bring wine! enjoy the moment as it goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave to old age its cares; dismiss the cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While in new realms for ever reigns the rose!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, know that not in revels such as these<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Learn we to struggle with the spiteful gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor thus can hope to rescue from rough seas<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The broken cable and the driven sail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These waves must in another wave be wash'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This shipwreck in another shipwreck drown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eye in such ill storms so vilely dashed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A happier wreck in its own tears be found. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_j.png" width="200" height="158" alt="Decoration J" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_1_4" id="Latin_Poems_1_4"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART FIRST. SACRED.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>IV.</h2> + +<p class="center">NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The Sancroft <span class="smcap">MS.</span>, as before, furnishes the following hitherto +unprinted longer Poems, which I place under <span class="smcap">Sacred</span>, as being +throughout in subject and treatment such. The Rev. <span class="smcap">Richard +Wilton</span>, M.A., as before, has at once the praise and responsibility +of the translations in the whole of this section. <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h3><a name="PSALMUS_I" id="PSALMUS_I"></a>PSALMUS I.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O te te nimis et nimis beatum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quem non lubricus implicavit error;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec risu misero procax tumultus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu cum grex sacer undique execrandis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strident consiliis, nec aure felix;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix non animo, vel ore mixtus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haud intelligis impios susurros.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed tu deliciis ferox repostis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cultu simplice, sobriaque cura<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Legem numinis usque et usque volvis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laeta sic fidas colit arbor undas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quem immiti violentus aura<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seirius frangit, neque contumacis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>This fragment of a Latin rendering of the first Psalm may +be compared with <span class="smcap">Buchanan's</span>, but, I fear, not to its advantage. +It were superfluous to give a translation of it; but see the parallel +which follows. G.</p></blockquote> + + +<h3><a name="IRA_PROCELLAE" id="IRA_PROCELLAE"></a>IRA PROCELLAE.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At tu, profane pulvis, et lusus sacer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cujusvis aurae; fronte qua tandem feres<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +<span class="i0">Vindex tribunal? quanta tum, et qualis tuae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moles procellae stabit? O quam ferreo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frangere nutu, praeda frontis asperae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacrique fulminandus ah procul, procul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A luce vultus, aureis procul a locis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ubi longa gremio mulcet aeterno pios.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sincera semper pax, et umbrosa super<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Insurgit ala, vividique nectaris<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imbres beatos rore perpetuo pluit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic ille, sic, ô vindice, stat vigil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et stabit ira torvus in impios,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seseque sub mentes bonorum<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Insinuat facili favore.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">THE WRATH OF THE JUDGMENT-WHIRLWIND.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thou, O dust profane, and of each air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plaything doom'd, with what face wilt thou bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Judgment-throne? how huge a stormy cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will lower upon thee! how wilt thou be bow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With iron nod, the prey of frowning Face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thunder to be driven far off, apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From light of sacred Countenance! afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From golden regions, where the righteous are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sooth'd in pure Peace's lap eterne, whose wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Towers high above them, overshadowing;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> +<span class="i0">While happy showers of nectar sweet imbue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their lips, as with an everlasting dew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wicked so His watchful ire will learn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cower 'neath God's avenging countenance stern;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The righteous so His love divine will feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gentle lapse into their bosom steal. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="CHRISTE_VENI" id="CHRISTE_VENI"></a>CHRISTE, VENI.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo veni; quicunque ferant tua signa timores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae nos cunque vocant tristia, Christe, veni.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; suus avulsum rapiat labor axem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec sinat implicitas ire redire vias;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mutuus attonito titubet sub foedere mundus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec natura vagum dissona volvat opus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; roseos ultra remeare per ortus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nolit, et ambiguos Sol trahat aeger equos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; ipsa suas patiatur Cynthia noctes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plus quam Thessalico tincta tremore genas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Astrorum mala caesaries per inane dolendum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gaudeat, horribili flore repexa caput;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sole sub invito subitae vis improba noctis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Corripiat solitam, non sua jura, diem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Importuna dies, nec Eoi conscia pacti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Per desolatae murmura noctis eat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; tonet Oceanus pater, et sua nolit<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Claustra vagi montes sub nova sceptra meent.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; quodcunque audet metus, audeat ultra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fata id agant, quod agant; tu modo, Christe, veni.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christe, veni; quacunque venis mercede malorum.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quanti hoc constiterit cunque venire, veni.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teque tuosque oculos tanti est potuisse videre!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O tanti est te vel sic potuisse frui!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quicquid id est, veniat. <span class="smcap">Tu modo, Christe, veni.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">EVEN SO: COME, LORD JESUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O come; whatever fears Thy standards carry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sorrows summon us, Lord, do not tarry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; though labouring heaven whirl from its place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its perplexèd paths no more can trace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though sympathising earth astonied reel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nature jarrèd cease its round to wheel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; though sun refuse with rosy beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rise, and sickly drives a doubtful team.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; though moon look more aghast at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than when her cheeks with panic fear are white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though ominous comets through the dolorous air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurtle, and round their brow dread fire-wreaths wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though spite of struggling sun Night's sudden sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impious and lawless seize the accustom'd day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mistimèd Day, mindless of eastern glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through moanings of forsaken Night should go.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; though father Ocean roars and lowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That his mov'd mountain-bars own other powers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; whate'er Fear dares, e'en let it dare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Fates do what they will, be Thou but there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Lord; with whate'er recompense of ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er Thy coming cost, O come, Lord, still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee and Thine eyes, O what 'twill be to see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee to enjoy e'en so, what will that be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let come what will, do Thou, Lord, only come. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="CIRCUMCISIO" id="CIRCUMCISIO"></a>CIRCUMCISIO.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah ferus, ah culter, qui tam bona lilia primus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tam crudeles jussit abire rosas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgineum hoc qui primus ebur violavit ab ostro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque sui instituit muricis ingenium.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hinc olim quicunque cucurrerit amnis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ex hoc purpurei germine fontis erit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hunc mortis primum puer accipit unguem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Injiciunt hodie fata, furorque manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce illi sanguis fundi jam coepit; et ecce<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui fundi possit, vix bene sanguis erat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excitat e dolio vix dum bene musta recenti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque rudes furias in nova membra vocat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbus, ut nimias jam nunc accingitur iras,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Armaque non molli sollicitanda manu;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +<span class="i0">Improbus, ut teneras audet jam ludere mortes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et vitae ad modulum, quid puerile mori;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbus, ut tragici impatiens praeludia fati<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ornat, et in socco jam negat ire suo:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet his pedibus manus haec meditata cothurnos?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec cum blanditiis mens meditata minas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec tam dura brevem decuere crepundia dextram?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dextra giganteis haec satis apta genis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic cunis miscere cruces? cumque ubere matris<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Commisisse neces et scelus et furias?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quo ridet patri, hoc tacite quoque respicit hastam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quoque oculo matrem mulcet, in arma redit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dii superi, furit his oculis! hoc asper in ore est!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dat Marti vultus, quos sibi mallet Amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deliciae irarum! torvi, tenera agmina, risus!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blande furor! terror dulcis! amande metus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praecocis in paenas pueri lascivia tristis!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cruda rudimenta! et torva tyrocinia!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam parcum breviusque brevi pro corpore vulnus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proque brevi brevior vulnere sanguis eat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Olim, cum nervi vitaeque ferocior haustus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Materiam morti luxuriemque dabunt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Olim maturos ultro conabitur imbres;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Robustum audebit tunc solidumque mori.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo illi, nisi qui in saevos concreverit usus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec nisi quem possit fundere, sanguis erit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Euge, puer trux! euge tamen mitissime rerum!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quique tibi tantum trux potes esse, puer?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +<span class="i0">Euge tibi trux! euge mihi mitissime rerum!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Euge Leo mitis! trux sed et Agne tamen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Macte, puer, macte hoc tam durae laudis honore!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Macte, o paenarum hac indole et ingenio!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, tam docte dolorum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tristem properas sic, puer, ire virum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, puer auree, crescis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mortis proficiens hac quasi sub ferula.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, fierce, fierce knife, which such sweet lilies first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into such cruel roses made to burst;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which first this ivory pure with purple stain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the white a deeper dye engrain'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever stream hereafter hence shall flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of this purple fountain-head shall grow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now first this tender Child Death's talons knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fates and Fury now hurl their first blows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See now His blood begins to pour; and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce blood enough to pour there seems to be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce wise to broach the new wine from the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'gainst those young limbs call the Furies rude.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanton, e'en now He girds on woes too much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And arms not to be tried by such soft touch:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanton, He dares at gentle deaths to play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for His age to die, as a child may:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> +<span class="i0">Wanton, beforehand acts His tragic woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restless, refusing in child-step to go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buskins is this hand shaping for those feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And does this mind plan threats with coaxings sweet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such playthings stern does this small hand bespeak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is it match'd with giant's iron cheek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mingle cross with cradle, mother's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With slaughter, wickedness, and rage unblest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His smiling eye now glances at the spear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turns to arms from soothing mother dear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God, with such face to frown, such eyes to rage!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War wins the looks which Love would fain engage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O winsome angers! savage smiles—mild brood—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft rage, sweet terror, awe which might be woo'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad wanton forwardness of Child for woes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harsh rudiments, stern training which He chose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now scantier wound for scanty body show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scantier blood for scanty wound let now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon, when His strength and deeper draught of breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall furnish food luxuriously for Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill be His pleasure then full showers to try,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then will He strongly, wholly dare to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No blood but what to cruel use will grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Him belongs, or what He can bid flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, cruel Child, though of all things most mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet to Thyself Thou canst be cruel, Child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Thyself cruel, but most mild to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Lion mild, a pitiless Lamb here see.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> +<span class="i0">Long, long may this stern praise Thine honour lift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faculty for woes<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> and innate gift.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce knife, from which experience sharp He borrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the Child hastes to grow the Man of Sorrows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce knife, 'neath which Thou draw'st Thy golden breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Advancing as 'twere 'neath the rod of Death. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="VIRGO" id="VIRGO"></a>VIRGO.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ne, pia, ne nimium, Virgo, permitte querelis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haud volet, haud poterit natus abesse diu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quid eum teneat? vel quae magis oscula vellet?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vestri illum indigenam quid vetet esse sinus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe illis quae labra genis magis apta putentur?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeve per id collum dignior ire manus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sibi quid speret puer ambitiosius ulmo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quove sub amplexu dulcius esse queat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quae tam teneram sibi vitis amicior ulmum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Implicet, alternis nexibus immoriens?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cui circum subitis eat impatientior ulnis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut quae tam nimiis vultibus ora notet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae tam prompta puer toties super oscula surgat?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qua signet gemma nobiliore genam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa ubi tam vernis adolescat mitius auris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tamve sub apricis pendeat uva jugis?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +<span class="i0">Illi qua veniat languor tam gratus in umbra?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Commodius sub quo murmure somnus agat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ubi tam charo, tam casto in carcere regnet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Maternoque simul virgineoque sinu,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille ut ab his fugiat, nec tam bona gaudia vellet?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille ut in hos possit non properare sinus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille sui tam blanda sinus patrimonia spernet?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haeres tot factus tam bene deliciis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne tantum, ne Diva, tuis permitte querelis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid dubites? Non est hic fugitivus Amor.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>TO THE VIRGIN MARY,</big></p> + +<p class="center">ON LOSING THE CHILD JESUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not, not too much, Virgin, to plaints give way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will, nor can, thy Son long from thee stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should He? Where so love to be carest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could prevent His nestling in thy breast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lips more suited to those cheeks divine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hand to clasp that neck more fit than thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could He hope more clinging than these arms?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or what embraces e'er possess such charms?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What kindlier vine its tender elm around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could twine, in mutual folds e'en dying found?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom with sudden arms more eager go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who on this face such yearning glances throw?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> +<span class="i0">Where 'mid such quick-rain'd kisses could He wake?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence His prest cheek a nobler ruby take?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where could that grape ripen in airs more mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hang 'neath hills where suns so sweetly smil'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where could such grateful languor o'er Him creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or what more soothing murmur lull to sleep?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where could He reign in nook so chaste, so dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in this Mother's, Virgin's bosom here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could He fly hence, and such blest joys decline,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And could He help hastening to breast of thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This balmy bosom's heritage not share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such delights so easily made heir?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, Lady, nay; thy loud complainings stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be cheer'd: this is no Love that flies away. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="APOCALYPSE_XII_7" id="APOCALYPSE_XII_7"></a>APOCALYPSE <span class="smcap">XII.</span> 7.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Arma, viri! aetheriam quocunque sub ordine pubem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Siderei proceres ducitis; arma, viri!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quaeque suis, nec queis solita est, stet dextra sagittis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stet gladii saeva luce corusca sui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Totus adest, totisque movet se major in iris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fertque Draco, quicquid vel Draco ferre potest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quas secum facies, imae mala pignora noctis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quot secum nigros ducit in arma deos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam pugnas parat, heu saevus! jam pugnat, et ecce,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vix potui 'Pugnat' dicere, jam cecidit.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +<span class="i0">His tamen ah nimium est quod frontibus addidit iras;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod potuit rugas his posuisse genis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc torvum decus est, tumidique ferocia fati,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod magni sceleris mors quoque magna fuit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod neque, si victus, jaceat victoria vilis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod meruit multi fulminis esse labor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod queat ille suas hoc inter dicere flammas:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Arma tuli frustra: sed tamen arma tuli.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">WAR IN HEAVEN.</p> + +<p class="center">Rev. xii. 7.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To arms, ye starry chieftains all, who lead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youth of heaven to war—to arms, with speed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let each right-hand its untried arrows grasp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or its own fiercely-gleaming falchion clasp.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He</i> is <i>all</i> here, and mightier in his wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dragon brings all powers the Dragon hath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange forms, curst children of the deepest Night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What dusky gods he marshals to the fight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now he makes ready, fights now, fierce as hell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce could I say 'He fights,' when, lo, he fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, 'twas too much to scar with wrath these faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave on angel-cheeks such furrow'd traces.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis his grim boast and proudly-swelling fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That of a great crime e'en the end was great:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +<span class="i0">If vanquish'd, that 'twas no mean victory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much boltèd thunder there requir'd to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with these words his fiery pains he charms:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Arms I bore vainly; but I did bear arms.' <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>See our Essay, as before, for relation of this poem to the +Sospetto d' Herode, and others. G.</p></blockquote> + + +<h3><a name="NON_ACCIPIMUS_BREVEM_VITAM" id="NON_ACCIPIMUS_BREVEM_VITAM"></a>NON ACCIPIMUS BREVEM VITAM,</h3> + +<p class="center">SED FACIMUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo tu luges nimium citatam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circulo vitam properante volvi?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu Deos parcos gemis, ipse cum sis<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Prodigus aevi?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipse quod perdis, quereris perire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipse tu pellis, sed et ire ploras?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vita num servit tibi? servus ipse<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Cedet abactus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Est fugax vitae, fateor, fluentum:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prona sed clivum modo det voluptas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amne proclivi magis, et fugace<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Labitur unda.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fur Sopor magnam hinc, oculos recludens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surripit partem, ruit inde partem<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +<span class="i0">Temporis magnam spolium reportans<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Latro voluptas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu creas mortes tibi mille, et aeva<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plura quo perdas, tibi plura poscis......<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">WE DO NOT RECEIVE, BUT MAKE, A SHORT LIFE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dost thou lament that life, urg'd-on too quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rolls round its course in hasting revolution?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost blame the thrifty gods, when thou thyself art<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lavish of lifetime?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thyself wastest, mourn'st thou if it perish?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost drive it from thee, but deplore it going?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is life thy servant? Sooth, a very servant<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Turn'd off departeth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's stream is fleeting—I confess it—always;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But once let Pleasure yield an easy incline,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With headlong wave and with more fleeting current<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Onward it glideth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, the thief, closing drowsy eyelids, snatcheth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One mighty portion; while as large a portion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasure, the robber, carries off unchalleng'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Time's precious gold-dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou for thyself a thousand deaths createst;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the more lifetimes thou dost spend in folly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many more in lieu of them demandest;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wasting and wanting. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></div></div> + + +<h3><a name="DE_SANGUINE_MARTYRUM" id="DE_SANGUINE_MARTYRUM"></a>DE SANGUINE MARTYRUM.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Felices, properatis io, properatis, et altam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vicistis gyro sub breviore viam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vos per non magnum vestri mare sanguinis illuc<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cymba tulit nimiis non operosa notis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quo nos tam lento sub remigio luctantes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ducit inexhausti vis male fida freti.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos mora, nos longi consumit inertia lethi;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In ludum mortis luxuriemque sumus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos aevo et senio et latis permittimur undis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spargimur in casus, porrigimur furiis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos miseri sumus ex amplo spatioque perimus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In nos inquirunt fata, probantque manus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ingenium fati sumus, ambitioque malorum.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Conatus mortis consiliumque sumus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vitae multo multae patet area mortis<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">· · · · · · · ·<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non vitam nobis numerant, quot viximus anni:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vita brevis nostra est; sit licet acta diu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vivere non longum est, quod longam ducere vitam:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Res longa in vita saepe peracta brevi est.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec vos tam vitae Deus in compendia misit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam vetuit vestrae plus licuisse neci.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +<span class="i0">Accedit vitae quicquid decerpitur aevo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque illo brevius, quo citius morimur.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">MARTYRS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good speed ye made, in sooth, good speed, ye blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a shorter course won heavenly rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over a narrow sea of your own blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's bark has borne you, by few gales withstood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While with slow oars we toil the shore to gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through boisterous fury of the boundless main.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>We</i> waste with lingering, indolent decay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are Death's pastime and his wanton play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er time and age and wide waves we are blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expos'd to furies and to chances thrown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretched in full are we, perish at length;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fates seek us out, and try on us their strength.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are Fate's skill, Evils' ambition fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's utmost effort and deep-plann'd design.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a long life wide field for Death there lies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a short life grand deeds may daze men's eyes.<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By years we live we reckon not our life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our life is short, with great deeds be it rife.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> +<span class="i0">To spend long years, let not long life be thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long-liv'd deed oft in short life is wrought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God not so much contracted your life's space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As order'd Death the sooner to give place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What earth's life loses, gains the life on high:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By how much sooner, so much less we die. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="SPES" id="SPES"></a>SPES.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spes diva, salve! diva avidam tuo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Necessitatem numine prorogans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vindicta fortunae furentis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Una salus mediis ruinis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regina quamvis, tu solium facis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depressa parvi tecta tugurii;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Surgit jacentes inter; illic<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Firma magis tua regna constant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cantus catenis, carmina carcere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dolore ab ipso gaudiaque exprimis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scintilla tu vivis sub imo<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pectoris, haud metuens procellas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu regna servis, copia pauperi,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Victis triumphus, littora naufrago,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsisque damnatis patrona,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Anchora sub medio profundo.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> +<span class="i0">Quin ipse alumnus sum tuus, ubere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pendens ab isto, et hinc animam traho.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Diva nutrix, ô foventes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pande sinus, sitiens laboro.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">HOPE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Hail, goddess Hope!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who Fate remorseless movest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off, and canst with raging Fortune cope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid ruin thou our sole salvation provest.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mighty queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy throne on roof-trees lowly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prostrate souls is fix'd, and there are seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The firm foundations of thy kingdom holy.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A gladsome hymn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From fetters disengaging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy from grief, thou liv'st in bosom dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spark that laughs at tempests wildly raging.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A crown to slaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abundance to the needy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shipwreck'd men a refuge from the waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To conquer'd and condemn'd deliverance speedy.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An 'Anchor sure,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eternal Rock thou graspest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strain of ocean 'stedfast' to endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Heaven's calm joys 'within the veil' thou claspest.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, I thy child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dependent here adore thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thee I draw my life, O Mother mild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open thy fostering bosom, I implore thee. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="ON_STEPHENS_CROWN" id="ON_STEPHENS_CROWN"></a><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ΕΙΣ ΤΟΝ ΤΟΥ ΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΥ ΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΝ</span>.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ecce tuos lapides! nihil est pretiosius illis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seu pretium capiti dent, capiantve tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet haec ratio vestri diadematis: hoc est,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unde coronatis vos decet ire comis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quisque lapis quanto magis in se vilis habetur,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ditior hoc capiti est gemma futura tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec est, quae sacra didicit florere figura,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non nisi per lacrymas charta videnda tuas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet ah dices, haec cum spectaveris ora,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ora sacer sic, ô sic tulit ille pater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sperabis solitas illinc, pia fulmina, voces;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sanctaque tam dulci mella venire via.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic erat illa, suas Famae cum traderet alas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ad calamum, dices, sic erat illa manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tale erat et pectus, celsae domus ardua mentis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tale suo plenum sidere pectus erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bene fallacis mendacia pulchra tabellae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et qui tam simili vivit in aere, labor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum tu tot chartis vitam, Pater alme, dedisti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec merito vitam charta dat una tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">ON STEPHEN'S CROWN.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[This poem seems only intelligible by our supposing that a +double reference is intended; first, and faintly, to St. Stephen +the proto-martyr; and mainly to Stephens (Stephanus), father +and son, Robert and Henry, the great scholars, commentators, +printers, and publishers of the sixteenth century, whose books +would always be in Crashaw's hands. Stephens, father and son, +suffered persecution, banishment, poverty, and excommunication +alike from Protestants and Catholics, while engaged in +bringing out the Bible, Greek Testament, and numerous Classic +Authors. 'In two years Henry revised and published more +than 4000 pages of Greek text.' In the latter years of his life, +being driven from Geneva (as it is alleged) by the 'petty surveillance +and censorship of the pious pastors there, he wandered +in poverty over Europe, his own family often ignorant where +he was to be found.']</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold thy stones! more precious nought is seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether they deck with precious rays serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy head, or from it take a precious glow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is your style of diadem; e'en so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With crownèd locks 'tis seemly ye should go:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The viler in itself each stone may seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A richer gem upon thy head will gleam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the Book where, seen through mist of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sacred form in manhood's bloom appears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, you will say, when you behold this face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such looks, O such, our father us'd to grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The accustom'd sounds you hope for—holy thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the blest honey hid that sweet tongue under:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +<span class="i0">So, o'er his pen, you say, that hand was bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When her own wings to fetter'd Fame he lent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such was that breast, his spirit's lofty dwelling—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That breast with its own starry thoughts high swelling.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O pleasing fantasies of picture fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kindred forms which laboured brass may bear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since through thee, Sire, such countless writings live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life unto thee let this one writing give. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="EXPOSTULATIO_JESU_CHRISTI" id="EXPOSTULATIO_JESU_CHRISTI"></a>EXPOSTULATIO JESU CHRISTI</h3> + +<p class="center">CUM MUNDO INGRATO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sum pulcher: at nemo tamem me diligit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum nobilis: nemo est mihi qui serviat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum dives: a me nemo quicquam postulat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et cuncta possum: nemo me tamen timet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aeternus exsto: quaeror a paucissimis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prudensque sum: sed me quis est qui consulit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et sum Via: at per me quotusquisque ambulat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum Veritas: quare mihi non creditur?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum Vita: verum rarus est qui me petit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum Vera Lux: videre me nemo cupit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum misericors: nullus fidem in me collocat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu, si peris, non id mihi imputes, homo:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salus tibi est a me parata: hac utere.<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>JESUS CHRIST'S EXPOSTULATION</big></p> + +<p class="center">WITH AN UNGRATEFUL WORLD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am all-fair, yet no one loveth Me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noble, yet no one would My servant be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich, yet no suppliant at My gate appears:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Almighty, yet before Me no one fears:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal, I by very few am sought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise am I, yet My counsel goes for nought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am the Way, yet by Me walks scarce one:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Truth, why am I not relied upon?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Life, yet seldom one My help requires:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The True Light, yet to see Me none desires:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am merciful, yet none is known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To place his confidence in Me alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, if thou perish, 'tis that thou dost choose it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salvation I have wrought for thee, O use it! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_h.png" width="200" height="74" alt="Decoration H" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_2_1" id="Latin_Poems_2_1"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART SECOND. SECULAR.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>I.</h2> + +<p class="center">FROM 'STEPS TO THE TEMPLE' AND 'DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES,' +ETC.</p> + +<p class="center">1646-1648.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Among the English poems of the 'Steps to the Temple' and +'Delights of the Muses' of 1646 were the following, in order: +In Picturam Reverendissimi Episcopi D. Andrews (p. 89)—Epitaphium +in Dominum Herrisium (pp. 92-3)—Principi recens +natae omen maternae indolis (pp. 108-9)—In Serenissimae +Reginae partum hyemalem (pp. 118-9)—Ad Reginam (pp. 121-2)—In +faciem Augustiss. Regis a morbillis integram (p. 127)—Rex +Redux (pp. 131-2), and Ad Principem nondum natum (p. 133). +In the enlarged edition of 1648 besides these, there appeared: +Bulla (pp. 54-58)—Thesaurus Malorum Foemina (p. 59)—In +Apollinea depereuntem Daphnen (pp. 60-1)—Aeneas Patris sui +Bajulus (p. 61)—In Pygmaliona (p. 61)—Arion (pp. 61-2)—Phoenicis +Genethliacon et Epicedion (p. 63)—Epitaphium (p. 64)—Damno +affici saepe fit Lucrum (pp. 64-5)—Humanae Vitae +Descriptio (p. 65)—Tranquillitas Animi, Similitudine ducta ab +Ave captiva et canora tamen (pp. 66-7).</p> + +<p>These Poems I have arranged under two classes: (<i>a</i>) Miscellaneous, +really, not merely formally, poetry: (<i>b</i>) Royal and +other commemorative pieces. The former in the present section, +the latter in the next. See our Essay on each. Nearly +the whole of the translations in this division are by myself, with +additional renderings of some by Rev. Thomas Ashe, M.A., as +before, and others by Rev. Richard Wilton, M.A., as before, as +pointed out in the places.</p> + +<p>As before, I note here the more misleading errors of Turnbull's +text. In 'Bulla,' l. 1, 'timores' for 'tumores;' l. 4, 'dextera +mihi' for 'dextra mei;' l. 54, 'nitent' for 'niteat;' l. 80, 'avis' +for 'uvis;' l. 84, 'nives' for 'niveae;' l. 85, 'sint' for 'sunt;' +l. 154, 'desinet' for 'defluet;' l. 157, 'Tempe' for 'Nempe:' in +Tranquillitas Animi,' l. 13, 'minis minisque' for 'nimis nimisque;' +l. 16, 'patrisque' for 'patreaeque;' l. 20, 'provocabit' for +'provocabat:' in 'Humanae Vitae Descriptio,' l. 13, 'more' for +'mare:' in 'Apollinea depereuntem Daphnen,' l. 12, 'ores' for +'oris:' in Phoenicis Genethliacon et Epicedion,' l. 5, 'teipsum' +for 'teipsam:' in 'Epitaphium,' l. 6, 'tremulum' for 'tremulam;' +l. 7, 'discas' for 'disces,' 'hinc' for 'huc,' and 'reponas' +for 'repones;' l. 10, 'miseris' for 'nimis:' in 'Thesaurus Malorum +Foemina,' l. 16, 'Pietas' for 'Pectus.' <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_m.png" width="550" height="108" alt="Decoration M" /> +</div> + + + + +<h3><a name="BULLA" id="BULLA"></a>BULLA.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid tibi vana suos offert mea Bulla tumores?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid facit ad vestrum pondus inane meum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expectat nostros humeros toga fortior. Ista<br /></span> +<span class="i1">En mea Bulla, lares en tua dextra mei.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quid tu? quae nova machina,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quae tam fortuito globo<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In vitam properas brevem?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Qualis virgineos adhuc<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cypris concutiens sinus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cypris jam nova, jam recens,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et spumis media in suis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Promsit purpureum latus;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Concha de patria micas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulchroque exsilis impetu;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Statim et millibus ebria<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ducens terga coloribus<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Evolvis tumidos sinus<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sphaera plena volubili.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cujus per varium latus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cujus per teretem globum<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iris lubrica cursitans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Centum per species vagas,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +<span class="i2">Et picti facies chori<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Circum regnat, et undique,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et se Diva volatilis<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Jucundo levis impetu<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et vertigine perfida<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lasciva sequitur fuga,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et pulchre dubitat; fluit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tam fallax toties novis,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tot se per reduces vias,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Erroresque reciprocos<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Spargit vena coloribus;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et pompa natat ebria.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tali militia micans<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Agmen se rude dividit;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Campis quippe volantibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et campi levis aequore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ordo insanus obambulans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passim se fugit, et fugat.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passim perdit, et invenit.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulchrum spargitur hic Chaos.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hic viva, hic vaga flumina<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ripa non propria meant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sed miscent socias vias,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Communique sub alveo<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stipant delicias suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quarum proximitas vaga<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tam discrimine lubrico,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tam subtilibus arguit<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> +<span class="i2">Juncturam tenuem notis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pompa ut florida nullibi<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sinceras habeat vias;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nec vultu niteat suo.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sed dulcis cumulus novos<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Miscens purpureus sinus<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flagrant divitiis suis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Privatum renuens jubar.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Floris diluvio vagi,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Floris sidere publico<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Late ver subit aureum,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atque effunditur in suae<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vires undique copiae.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nempe omnis quia cernitur,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nullus cernitur hic color,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et vicinia contumax<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Allidit species vagas.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Illic contiguis aquis<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marcent pallidulae faces.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unde hic vena tenellulae,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flaminis ebria proximis<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Discit purpureas vias,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et rubro salit alveo.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ostri sanguineum jubar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lambunt lactea flumina;<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Suasu caerulei maris<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mansuescit seges aurea;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et lucis faciles genae<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +<span class="i2">Vanas ad nebulas stupent;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Subque uvis rubicundulis<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flagrant sobria lilia;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vicinis adeo rosis<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vicinae invigilant nives;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ut sint et niveae rosae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ut sunt et roseae nives,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Accenduntque rosae nives,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Extinguuntque nives rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Illic cum viridi rubet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hic et cum rutile viret,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lascivi facies chori.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et quicquid rota lubrica<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Caudae stelligerae notat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulchrum pergit et in ambitum.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hic coeli implicitus labor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Orbes orbibus obvii;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">ex velleris aurei,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grex pellucidus aetheris;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Qui noctis nigra pascua<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Puris morsibus atterit;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hic quicquid nitidum et vagum<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Coeli vibrat arenula,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dulci pingitur in joco;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hic mundus tener impedit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sese amplexibus in suis.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Succinctique sinu globi<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Errat per proprium decus.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> +<span class="i2">Hic nictant subitae faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et ludunt tremulum diem,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mox se surripiunt sui et<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quaerunt tecta supercili,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atque abdunt petulans jubar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Subsiduntque proterviter.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atque haec omnia quam brevis<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sunt mendacia machinae!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Currunt scilicet omnia<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sphaera, non vitrea quidem—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ut quondam Siculus globus—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sed vitro nitida magis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sed vitro fragili magis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et vitro vitrea magis.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sum venti ingenium breve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flos sum, scilicet, aëris,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sidus scilicet aequoris;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Naturae jocus aureus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Naturae vaga fabula,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Naturae breve somnium.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nugarum decus et dolor;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dulcis doctaque vanitas.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aurae filia perfidae;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Et risus facilis parens.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tantum gutta superbior,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fortunatius et lutum.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sum fluxae pretium spei;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Una ex Hesperidum insulis.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> +<span class="i2">Formae pyxis, amantium<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clare caecus ocellulus;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vanae et cor leve gloriae.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sum caecae speculum Deae,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sum Fortunae ego tessera,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quam dat militibus suis;<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sum Fortunae ego symbolum,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quo sancit fragilem fidem<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cum mortalibus ebriis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Obsignatque tabellulas.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sum blandum, petulans, vagum,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pulchrum, purpureum, et decens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Comptum, floridulum, et recens,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Distinctum nivibus, rosis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Undis, ignibus, aere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pictum, gemmeum, et aureum,<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O sum, scilicet, ô <span class="smcap">nihil</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si piget, et longam traxisse in taedia pompam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vivax, et nimium Bulla videtur anus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tolle tuos oculos pensum leve defluet, illam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Parca metet facili non operosa manu.<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vixit adhuc. Cur vixit? adhuc tu nempe legebas.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nempe fuit tempus tum potuisse mori?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>A collation of the 'Bulla' with the Tanner <span class="smcap">MS.</span> corrects the +punctuation of the original and subsequent printed texts, and +specially puts right in the last line 'Nempe' for 'Tempe,' so long +retained. In the fourth line from close the printed texts read +'desinet' for 'defluet.' Nothing else noticeable. <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Translation.</span> THE BUBBLE. [<span class="smcap">TO REV. DR. LANY.</span>]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What art thou? What new device,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Globe, chance-fashion'd in a trice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into brief existence bounding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfectly thy circle rounding?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when Cypris, her breast smiting—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgin still, all love inviting—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cypris in young loveliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couch'd rosy where the white waves press<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her to bear and her to bless;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So</i> forth from thy native shell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleamest thou ineffable!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springing up with graceful bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And describing dainty round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousand colours come and go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thou dost thy fair curves show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swelling out—a whirling ball<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meet for Fairy-Festival;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through whose sides of shifting hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through whose smooth-turn'd globe, we view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Iris' gliding rainbow sitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a hundred forms soft-flitting:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And semblance of a troop displaying,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> +<span class="i0">All around dominion swaying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Goddess volatile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With witching step and luring smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follows still with twinkling foot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In link'd mazes involute:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many a sight-deceiving turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flight which makes pursuers burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a graceful hesitation—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only treacherous simulation:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Just so</span>, and no less deceiving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our <span class="smcap">Bubble</span>, all its colours weaving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follows ever-varying courses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in air itself disperses:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here now, there now, coming, going,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wand'ring as if ebbing, flowing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sporting Passion's colours all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ways that are bacchanal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the <span class="smcap">Globes</span> undisciplin'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though driven by the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne along the fleeting plains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light as air; nor order reigns—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the heaven-possess'd array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moving each in its own way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hither now and thither flying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glancing, wavering, and dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Losing still their path and finding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a random inter-winding:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rising, falling, on careering,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +<span class="i0">Vis'ble now, now disappearing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Living wand'ring streams outgoing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n Confusion beauteous showing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowing not each in its course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But each to other joining force;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moving in pleasant pastime still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a mutual good-will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a nearness that's so near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You the contact almost fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet so finely drawn to eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its delicate subtlety<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the procession, blossom-fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowhere has direction clear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor with their own aspect glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the sweet luxuriance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which skiey influences lend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in new windings on they trend:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throwing off the stol'n sunlight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a flood of blossoms bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scatter'd on the fields of light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such a brilliancy of bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As all may share if all will come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now golden Spring advances lightly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreading itself on all sides brightly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of its rich and full supply<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open-handed, lavishly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since all colours you discern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one colour may you learn:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> +<span class="i0">All tints melted into one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a sweet confusion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot tell 'tis that or this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shifting is the loveliness:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams as of the peacock's crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or such as on dove's neck rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opal, edg'd with amethyst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the sunset's purpl'd mist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the splendour that there lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a maiden's azure eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindling in a sweet surprise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flower-tints, shell-tints, tender-dy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save to curious unespied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, one <span class="smcap">Bubble</span> follows t'other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Differing still from its frail brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Striking still from change to change<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a quick and vivid range.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There in the contiguous wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torches palely-glist'ning lave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here what delicate love-lights shine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through them near flames bick'ring shine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Matching flushing of the rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the ruddy channel flows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Milky rivers in white tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucent, hush, still onwards glide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purple rivers in high flood—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red as is man's awful blood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Corn-fields smiling goldenly<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> +<span class="i0">Meet the blue laugh of the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mist-clouds sailing on their way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darken the changeful cheeks of Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beneath vine-clusters red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilies are transfigurèd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here you mark as 'twere the snows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Folding o'er the neighb'ring rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snow into blown roses flushing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses wearied of their blushing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the shifting tints embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their course you scarce can trace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now retiring, now advancing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now in wanton mazes dancing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now a flow'ry red appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now a purpl'd green careers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the signs in heaven that burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the gliding wheel doth turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here in radiant courses go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though 'twere a heaven below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sky's mazes involute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circling onward with deft foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sphere on heavenly sphere attending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coming, going, inter-blending:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the gold-fleec'd flocks of air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wand'ring inviolate and fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flocks that drink in chaste delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dewy pastures of the Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving no trace of foot or bite.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er of change above you note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As these clouds o'er heaven float,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, repeated here we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a sportive mimicry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the tiny tender world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within its own brightness furl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wavers, as in fairy robe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twere a belted linèd globe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lights as of the breaking Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tremble with iridescent play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now swiftly upward going,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Evanescent colours showing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some nook their beams concealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor their wantonness revealing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, what store of wonders here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this short-liv'd slender <span class="smcap">Sphere</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all wonders I have told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are within its <span class="smcap">Globe</span> enroll'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not such globe as skillèd he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fashion'd of old in Sicily:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brighter e'en than crystals are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And than crystal frailer far.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I am Spirit of the Wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a flitting breath design'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am Blossom born of air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm of Ocean, guiding Star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm a golden sport of Nature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frolic stamp'd on ev'ry feature:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +<span class="i0">I'm a myth, an idle theme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brief substance of a dream:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grace and grief of trifles, I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm—a well-skill'd vanity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begotten of the treacherous breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parent of absurdities:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, a drop or mote, at best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Favour'd more than are the rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm price of Hope that no more is,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of the Hesperides:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty's casket, doating eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lovers blinded wilfully:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light Spirit of Vanity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am Fortune's looking-glass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The countersign which she doth pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her troop of warriors:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm the oath by which she swears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wherewith she doth induce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men to trust a fragile truce.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charming, provoking, still astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair and elegant and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trim and fresh and blossom-hu'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interchangeably imbu'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rosy-red and the snow's whiteness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Air and water and fire's brightness:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painted, gemm'd, of golden dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Nothing</span>—after all—am I!'<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> +<span class="i0">If now, O gentle Reader, it appear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Irksome my <span class="smcap">Bubble's</span> chatterings to hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on it frowning, 'Words, words, words!' thou say,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No more I'll chatter, but at once obey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, turn thine eye, my Friend, no more give heed;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My <span class="smcap">Bubble</span> lives but if thou choose to read.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cease thou to read, and I resign my breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cease thou to read, and that will be my death. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="TRANQUILLITAS_ANIMI" id="TRANQUILLITAS_ANIMI"></a>TRANQUILLITAS ANIMI:</h3> + +<p class="center">SIMILITUDINE DUCTA AB AVE CAPTIVA, ET CANORA TAMEN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ut cum delicias leves, loquacem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convivam nemoris vagamque musam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Observans, dubia viator arte<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prendit desuper: horridusve ruris<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eversor, male perfido paratu,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu durus! rapit, atque io triumphans<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vadit: protinus et sagace nisu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Evolvens digitos, opus tenellum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ducens pollice lenis erudito,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgarum implicat ordinem severum,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angustam meditans domum volucri.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa autem, hospitium licet vetustum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mentem solicitet nimis nimisque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et suetum nemus, hinc opaca mitis<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span> +<span class="i0">Umbrae frigora, et hinc aprica puri<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solis fulgura, patriaeque sylvae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nunquam muta quies; ubi illa dudum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Totum per nemus, arborem per omnem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hospes libera liberis querelis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cognatum bene provocabat agmen:<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quanquam ipsum nemus arboresque alumnam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Implorant profugam, atque amata multum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quaerant murmura lubricumque carmen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blandi gutturis et melos serenum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa autem, tamen, illa jam relictae,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simplex! haud meminit domus, nec ultra<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sylvas cogitat; at brevi sub antro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah penna nimium brevis recisa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah ritu vidua sibique sola,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Privata heu fidicen! canit, vagoque<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exercens querulam domum susurro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fallit vincula, carceremque mulcet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec pugnans placidae procax quieti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luctatur gravis, orbe sed reducto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discursu vaga saltitans tenello,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Metitur spatia invidae cavernae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic in se pia mens reposta, secum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alte tuta sedet, nec ardet extra,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aut ullo solet aestuare fato:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quamvis cuncta tumultuentur, atrae<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sortis turbine non movetur illa.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortunae furias onusque triste<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +<span class="i0">Non tergo minus accipit quieto,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam vectrix Veneris columba blando<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admittat juga delicata collo.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torvae si quid inhorruit procellae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si quid saeviat et minetur, illa<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spernit, nescit, et obviis furorem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fallit blanditiis, amatque et ambit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsum, quo male vulneratur, ictum.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curas murmure non fatetur ullo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non lambit lacrymas dolor, nec atrae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mentis nubila frons iniqua prodit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod si lacryma pervicax rebelli<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erumpit tamen evolatque gutta,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invitis lacrymis, negante luctu,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ludunt perspicui per ora risus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Translation.</span> PEACE OF MIND:<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a></p> + +<p class="center">UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A CAPTIVE SONG-BIRD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The time of the singing of birds is come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will away i' the greenwood to roam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will away; and thou azure-ey'd Muse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deign with thy gifts my mind to suffuse.—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So o'erheard I one say, as he withdrew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a fairy scene that well I knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light lac'd with shadow, shadow with light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves playing bo-peep from morn unto night.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> +<span class="i1">But, ah, what is this? Alas, and alas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweet bird flutters upon the grass;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flutters and struggles with quivering wing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempted and snar'd—gentle, guileless thing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain, vain thy struggles; for, lo, a hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hollow'd above, makes thee captive stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Home hies the Captor, loud singing his joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has got a pet song-bird for his boy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now twining and twisting, a cage he makes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wire-wrought and fast'n'd. Ah, my heart aches!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is a prison, for the poor bird prepar'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shut close and netted, netted and barr'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes the flutter and gleam of forest-leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the trellis'd window under the eaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the breath and stir of the vernal wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the goldening sunshine—to remind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that is lost; comes now and again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off a song from the blading grain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calling, still calling the Songster to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back—once more back—to its woodland home.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I mark eyelids rise; mark the lifting wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark the swelling throat, as if it would sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark the weary 'chirp, chirp,' like infant's cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yearning after the free and boundless sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the grand old woods; once more to sit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the swinging bough into blossom smit.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vain, vain, poor bird! thou'rt captive still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou must bend thee to thy Captor's will:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span> +<span class="i0">Thy wing is cut; from thy mate thou'rt taken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All alone thou abidest, sad, forsaken.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The days pass on; and I look in once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the captive bird 'bove the ivied door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetly it sings, as if all by itself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A short, quiet song. O thou silly elf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast forgot the greenwood, the forest hoar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flash of the sky, the wind's soften'd roar?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast forgot that thou still a captive art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prison'd in wire-work? hast forgot thy smart?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis even so: for now down, and now up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now hopping on perch, now sipping from cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mark it sullen and pining no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But keeping within, though open the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">List ye, now list—from its swelling throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of its woodland song you miss never a note.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, it is true, and in a wir'd cage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But kindness has melted the captive's rage.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behold a sweet meaning in this bird's story—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the child of God is ripen'd for glory:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is thus with the child of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smitten and bleeding 'neath His rod:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus 'tis with him; for, tranquil and calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid dangers and insults, he singeth his psalm:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, all alone, deserted of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slander'd and trampl'd and plac'd under ban,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He frets not, he pines not, he plains not still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sees clear in all his dear Father's will:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> +<span class="i0">Come loss, come cross, come bereavement, come wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sets all to music, turns all to song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come terror, come trial, come dark day, come bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still upward he looks, and knows all is right:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wounded, he sees the Hand gives the stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending his neck to bear his Lord's yoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And finds it grow light, by grace from Above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As love's slender collars o' the Queen of Love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the starting tear, 'tis dried with a smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes a cloud, as you look 'tis gone the while;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirs the 'old Adam' to tempt and to dare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thinks Who was tempted and knows what we are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle and meek, murmurs not nor rebels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But serene as in heaven and tranquil dwells:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so the Believer has 'songs in the night,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so every cloud has a lining of light.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thus, even thus, the captive bird's story<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tells how a soul is ripen'd for glory. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="DAMNO_AFFICI_SAEPE_FIT_LUCRUM" id="DAMNO_AFFICI_SAEPE_FIT_LUCRUM"></a>DAMNO AFFICI SAEPE FIT LUCRUM.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Damna adsunt multis taciti compendia lucri,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Felicique docent plus properare mora.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luxuriem annorum posita sic pelle redemit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque sagax serpens in nova saecla subit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cernis ut ipsa sibi replicato suppetat aevo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seque iteret multa morte perennis avis?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> +<span class="i0">Succrescit generosa sibi, facilesque per ignes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perque suos cineres, per sua fata ferax.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae sollers jactura sui? quis funeris usus?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flammarumque fides ingeniumque rogi?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Siccine fraude subis? pretiosaque funera ludis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Siccine tu mortem, ne moriaris, adis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix cui medicae tanta experientia mortis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cui tam Parcarum est officiosa manus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">GAIN OUT OF LOSS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Losses are often source of secret gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delays good-speed, and ease the child of pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The subtle snake, laying aside her fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Casts off her slough, and heals the waste of years.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The phœnix thus her waning pride supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, to be ever-living, often dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold for her good, she makes the fires her friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to begin anew, will plot her end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What skilful losing! what wise use of dying!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What trust in flames! and what a craft in plying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That trick of immolation! Canst thou so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compound with griefs? canst wisely undergo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's losses, crosses? play with gainful doom?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst, to be quicken'd, gladly seek the tomb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice-happy he thus touch'd with healing sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whom night's strife plots but a gracious morrow. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING (<i>more freely</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Suff'ring is not always loss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Often underneath the cross—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heavy, crushing, wearing, slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Causing us in dread to go—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All unsuspected lieth gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like sunshine in vernal rain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the serpent's mottled skin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast, new lease of years doth win:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the phœnix in the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaps immortal from its pyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mystic plumage mewing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life by death renewing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What a wise loss thus to lose!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who will gainsay or abuse?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What strange end to fun'ral pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus in Death's gaunt face to smile!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith still strong within the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith triumphant o'er its ire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How stands it, fellow-man, with thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What meaning in this myth dost see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy thou, if when thou'rt lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thy sick-bed slow a-dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cometh vision of the Eternal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cometh strength for the supernal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cometh triumph o'er the infernal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou canst the Last Enemy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calmly meet, serenely die;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> +<span class="i0">The hard Sisters life's web snipping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thy spirit never gripping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good, not evil, to thee bringing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hushing not thy upward singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Golden City winging.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Even so to die is gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the Harvest's tawnied grain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffering is not always loss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Crown succeeds the Cross. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="HUMANAE_VITAE_DESCRIPTIO" id="HUMANAE_VITAE_DESCRIPTIO"></a>HUMANAE VITAE DESCRIPTIO.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O vita, tantum lubricus quidam furor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoliumque vitae! scilicet longi brevis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erroris hospes! Error ô mortalium!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O certus error! qui sub incerto vagum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suspendit aevum, mille per dolos viae<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fugacis, et proterva per volumina<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluidi laboris, ebrios lactat gradus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et irretitos ducit in nihilum dies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fata! quantum perfidae vitae fugit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Umbris quod imputemus atque auris, ibi<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et umbra et aura serias partes agunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miscentque scenam, volvimur ludibrio<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Procacis aestus, ut per incertum mare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fragilis protervo cymba cum nutat freto;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et ipsa vitae fila, queis nentes Deae<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +<span class="i0">Aevi severa texta producunt manu,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec ipsa nobis implicant vestigia,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retrahunt trahuntque, donec everso gradu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruina lassos alta deducat pedes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix, fugaces quisquis excipiens dies<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gressus serenos fixit, insidiis sui<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec servit aevi, vita inoffensis huic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feretur auris, atque clauda rarius<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Titubabit hora: vortices anni vagi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic extricabit, sanus assertor sui.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Life, or but some evanescent madness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glittering spoil of life snatch'd with blind gladness!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of endless Error, transitory guest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad human Error, which would fain find rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O certain Error, 'neath uncertain sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suspending here our frail mortality;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading us through a thousand devious ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And intricacies of a treacherous maze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our staggering footsteps how dost thou beguile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through wanton rounds of unavailing toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our entangl'd days to nothing bring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fates, how much of our poor life takes wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wasted on winds and shadows! On life's stage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadows and winds a serious part engage,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> +<span class="i0">The scene confusing. On life's billow tost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sport of changeful tide, we're well-nigh lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like a frail boat on a stormy sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We waver up and down uncertainly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, e'en the threads spun by the Fates on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with stern fingers they divinely ply<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The web of life, twine round us as we go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And draw us backwards, forwards, to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Ruin trips us up, and we are found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Helpless and weary, stretched along the ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Happy the man who, welcoming each day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With smiles that answer to its fleeting ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursues with step serene his purpos'd way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The alluring snares peculiar to the age<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>His</i> soul enslave not, nor his mind engage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His life with peaceful tenor glides along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fav'ring breezes fann'd, and sooth'd with song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inspir'd by Heaven with soul-sustaining force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seldom he falls, or falters in his course;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever, as the eddying years roll round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bursting through all the perils that abound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wise assertor of himself is found. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="IN_PYGMALIONA" id="IN_PYGMALIONA"></a>IN PYGMALIONA.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Poenitet artis<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Pygmaliona suae,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +<span class="i0">Quod felix opus esset,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Infelix erat artifex;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sentit vulnera, nec videt ictum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quis credit? gelido veniunt de marmore flammae:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marmor ingratum nimis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Incendit autorem suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concepit hic vanos furores,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opus suum miratur atque adorat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prius creavit, ecce nunc colit manus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tentantes digitos molliter applicat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Decipit molles caro dura tactus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An virgo vera est, an sit eburnea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reddat an oscula quae dabantur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nescit; sed dubitat, sed metuit, munere supplicat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blanditiasque miscet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te, miser, poenas dare vult, hos Venus, hos triumphos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Capit a te, quod amorem fugis omnem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cur fugis heu vivos? mortua te necat puella.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non erit innocua haec, quamvis tua fingas manu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsa heu nocens erit nimis, cujus imago nocet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">ON PYGMALION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Grief for work his hands have done<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Harroweth Pygmalion;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Happy reach of art! yet he<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The artificer, unhappily,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span> +<span class="i0">He feels the wounds: what deals the blow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can it be true? can flames from gelid marble flow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Marble, treacherous and to blame<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To burn your Sculptor with such flame!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What madness in his heart is hid?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wonders at, he adores the work he did.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First he made, and next his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With wandering fingers softly tries<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mystery to understand.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, surely now the hard flesh lies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it a living maiden, see!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O treacherous blisses!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it no marble? can it frail flesh be?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Does it return his kisses?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knows not, he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He doubts, he fears, he prays; what mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All these sweet blandishments between?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Venus, wretched Sculptor, wills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You should suffer these sad ills;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is her triumph over you,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Because at love your lips would curl;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your will not living overthrows yet this dead girl.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weep, ah, weep, Pygmalion!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though you shap'd her with your hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your chisel, out of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not innocuous here she stands.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> +<span class="i1">O image of a maiden!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you so strangely baneful prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With what despair will you come laden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coming alive to claim his love! <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER VERSION (<i>more freely</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pygmalion mourns his own success;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was ever such strange wretchedness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His work itself, a work of Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfect in its every part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But himself? Alas, artist he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his own utmost misery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He feels his wounds, but who shall tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence come the drops that downward steal?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flames leap out from the marble, cold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ice itself by storm-wind roll'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he, contriver of that fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burns self-immolate on his own pyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Furies of his own genius born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast him, adoring and forlorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a strange captivity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his own hands' work; and he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clings to the shapely form, until,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ecstasy of love a-thrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He burning lips to cold lips sets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wild with passion her cheek wets;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strains to his breast insensate stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As 'twere a breathing thing; with moan,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +<span class="i0">With clasp and grasp and tingling touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though he ne'er could grip too much;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wilder'd cry of agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she respond would; by him lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A virgin pure as drifted snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lilies that i' the meadows blow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it ivory? is it stone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives it? or is it clay alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that to flesh the stone would melt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show a soul within it dwelt!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He looks, he yearns, he sighs, he sobs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convulsive his whole body throbs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He doubts, he fears, he supplicates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wistful gaze; he on her waits;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gifts lavish he lays at her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, stung to passion, will entreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though the image he has made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were thing of life he might persuade—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Persuade and woo, and on her stake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His future, all. O sad mistake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee, Pygmalion, Venus sends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These triumphs which thy chisel lends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To punish thee, for that no love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erewhile thy obstinate heart might move.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why flee'st thou the living, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When this image thee doth slay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee doth—ay, slay! Why dost thou stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entranc'd before the work o' thy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> +<span class="i0">None the less hurtful that it is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine own genius yields the bliss?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Venus must thee still deny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sculptured maid must breathless lie. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="ARION" id="ARION"></a>ARION.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Squammea vivae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lubrica terga ratis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam conscendet Arion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merces tam nova solvitur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Navis quam nova scanditur. Illa<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aërea est merces, haec est et aquatica navis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perdidere illum viri<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercede magna, servat hic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercede nulla piscis: et sic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salute plus ruina constat illi;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Minoris et servatur hinc quam perditur.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic dum findit aquas, findit hic aëra:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cursibus, piscis; digitis, Arion:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et sternit undas, sternit et aëra:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carminis hoc placido Tridente<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abjurat sua jam murmura, ventusque modestior<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Auribus ora mutat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ora dediscit, minimos et metuit susurros;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sonus alter restat, ut fit sonus illis<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +<span class="i0">Aura strepens circum muta sit lateri adjacente penna,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambit et ora viri, nec vela ventis hic egent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attendit hanc ventus ratem: non trahit, at trahitur.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION (<i>full</i>).</p> + +<p class="center">ARION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never since ship was set a-float<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have men seen so strange a boat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alive it is from deck to keel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Having the gray gleam of steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slippery as wave-wash'd wreck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or as a war-ship's bloody deck.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Dolphin, lo, its huge back bending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safety to Arion lending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the sailors of Sicily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Covetous of his golden monie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Money that as prize he had won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before all Singers aneath the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing and singing so famouslie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing and playing so wondrouslie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there went up from ev'ry throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The verdict, 'for Arion I vote:'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vote the prize; and gifts as well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crowns of gold and of asphodel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lyres all a-glow with gems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robes bejewell'd to their hems;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand golden pieces and one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the gifted son of Poseidon:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> +<span class="i0">And, hark, as 'twere the bellowing thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In clang'rous shouts men tell their wonder.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arion now homeward takes his way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a fair ship steer'd for Corinth Bay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud of his prizes, proud of his skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud that soon Periander will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome him fondly, and call him friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With words such as no money can send.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alas and alas, such crime to tell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ship-captain and sailors fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Covet his gold, and have it must,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though Arion they murder by blow or thrust.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Apollo at midnight hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sendeth a dream in mystic power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It showeth the men, it showeth their crime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arion awakes with the morning's chime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awakes, and planneth how to escape.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain, vain all; on him they gape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thirsting alike for gold and life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murder and covetousness at strife.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Suffer me, then,' Arion said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'That I may play as I have play'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is my poor Lyre, and, ere I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me prove its minstrelsy.'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He has donn'd him now in gay attire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Festal robes; in his hand his Lyre.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">List ye, list ye; above, below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds such as only the angels know;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds that are born of rapture and bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the throbbing heart and the burning love-kiss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now it is soft, pathetic, low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then 'gins to change to cry of woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now it comes rushing as if the thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came booming from the deep earth under;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulsing along each quivering string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though the Lyre were a living thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Arion's hand had so cunning a spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As should win all heaven—ay and hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, came there never such melodie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From mortal earth or mortal sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He mounted to the good ship's prow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mingling with his song a vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the gods, he himself threw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out 'mid the waves from that damnable crew.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up through the waves the Dolphins bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred bended backs are found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each one more eager than the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To upbear the sweet Player on Ocean's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arion ascends; and, lo, he stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Lyre unwet within his hands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onward and onward careering they go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O soft and true the notes that flow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rising, falling, swelling, dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near and nearer, far-off flying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulsing along each quivering string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though the Lyre were a living thing.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> +<span class="i1">New is the ship, as new the freight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dolphin feels never the weight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New is the ship, and new the fare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That of the water, this of the air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sailors in their greed him lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dolphin bears him withouten cost.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Away and away with a shim'ring track<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arion goes on the Dolphin's back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away and away, still softly playing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each string his lightest touch obeying.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the spell the Sea grows calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listing attent his witching psalm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the spell the air grows mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathing soft as sleeping child.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But who may seek all the tale to tell?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is a tale unspeakable.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Onward and onward careering they go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence above and silence below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Storm-gale shuts its mouth and lists,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Wind folds its pinions and desists,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Following, not blowing, drawing not, but drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From early ev'ning to breaking dawn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenarus at last Arion beheld;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenarus, his own dear home that held;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as together they swiftly come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He claps hands loud and thinks of home.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dolphin seeks a quiet cove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dolphin arching its back above<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +<span class="i0">The azure waters, leaves him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-list'ning still his Lyre to hear.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Homeward to Corinth Arion proceeds:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Periander a tale of suff'ring reads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the thinnèd cheek and the dreamy eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the tremulous words and the laden sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The story is told. O story of wrong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ship returns; and it is not long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere captain and crew, at bar arraign'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must tell where Arion they detain'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'He tarries,' quoth they, 'in Sicily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winning all men by his minstrelsie.'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lies were proven in their throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Periander his hands together smote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swearing a solemn oath that they—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, all—should drown'd be in the Bay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tied hand and foot, pallor'd and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis done as they would ha' done to him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A plunge as of a plunging stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few bubbles—Vengeance is done! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_d.png" width="200" height="90" alt="Decoration D" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN" id="IN"></a>IN</h2> + +<p class="center">APOLLINEA DEPEREUNTEM DAPHNEN.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stulte Cupido,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid tua flamma parat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Annos sole sub ipso<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accensae pereunt faces?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed fax nostra potentior istis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flammas inflammare potest, ipse uritur ignis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce flammarum potens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Majore sub flamma gemit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eheu, quid hoc est? En Apollo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lyra tacente, ni sonet dolores,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coma jacente squallet aeternus decor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oris, en, dominae quo placeat magis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Languido tardum jubar igne promit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pallente vultu territat aethera.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mundi oculus lacrymis senescit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et solvit pelago debita, quodque hauserat ignibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lacrymis rependit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noctis adventu properans se latebris recondit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et opacas tenebrarum colit umbras,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Namque suos odit damnans radios nocensque lumen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An lateat tenebris dubitat, an educat diem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc suadet hoc luctus furens, inde repugnat amor.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION (<i>full</i>).</p> + +<p class="center">ON APOLLO PINING FOR DAPHNE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cupid, foolishest of pets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What woe thy swift-sent flame begets!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely before the flashing Sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torches pale to extinction?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But our torch is mightier far;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It able is 'gainst fire to war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, fire itself to burn and char.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The igni-potent in amaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, groans, his huge heart all a-blaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With keener flame than his own rays.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, what is this? Apollo burns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as distraught in anguish mourns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, see his lyre mute and unstrung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or only grief-notes from it wrung:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, his golden locks neglected,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his radiant face dejected;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty eterne distain'd, rejected.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The great Sun-god is in love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seeks in vain his Fair to move:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence his weird pallor, and those cries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the sky shudd'ring terrifies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence the world's day-bringing eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears dim, such as in mortals' lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence those showers often falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sea her erst gifts recalling;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span> +<span class="i0">Hence welcome the approaching night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mourning he may veil his light—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil his light, and in shadows deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His great anguish in secret weep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor, when vermeil-drapèd Morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her smile the East adorning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touches with her rosy finger<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes that 'neath their lashes linger,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeking to wake the God of Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That round the world his beams may play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does he haste at all to rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his 'fulgent throne i' the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But rather would abide within<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds whereon he rests his chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hating his own beams' splendour now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Daphne scorns to list his vow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus he lingers, and still weighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether Day or Night to raise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raging grief he cannot smother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says the one; and Love the other.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cupid, tricksiest of pets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What woe thy swift-sent flame begets!<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AENEAS_PATRIS_SUI_BAJULUS" id="AENEAS_PATRIS_SUI_BAJULUS"></a>AENEAS PATRIS SUI BAJULUS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moenia Trojae, hostis et ignis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hostes inter et ignes, Aeneas spolium pium<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Atque humeris venerabile pondus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excipit, et 'Saevae nunc ô nunc parcite flammae;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parcite haud, clamat, mihi;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacrae favete sarcinae:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod si negatis, nec licebit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vitam juvare, sed juvabo funus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rogusque fiam patris ac bustum mei.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His dictis, acies pervolat hostium,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gestit, et partis veluti trophaeis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ducit triumphos. Nam furor hostium<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam stupet, et pietate tanta<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Victor vincitur; imo et moritur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Troja libenter, funeribusque gaudet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ac faces admittit ovans, ne lateat tenebras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per opacas opus ingens pietatis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Debita sic patri solvis tua, sic pari rependis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Officio. Dederat vitam tibi, tu reddis huic:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix, parentis qui pater diceris esse tui.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION (<i>full</i>).</p> + +<p class="center">ÆNEAS THE BEARER OF HIS FATHER.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The walls of Troy—the walls of Troy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis an old tale you will enjoy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A foe is there amid the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A foe 'twixt foemen in their ire.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aeneas takes a pious load<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With upward prayer to his god;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en his old father, whose gray head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay 'mong the dying and the dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O venerable spoil in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit from the demons to fetch ruth.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fierce roar the flames, and fiercer still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rages the fight on plain and hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Spare the old man,' Aeneas cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Spare the white hairs; or if he dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be mine the privilege of his pyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be mine with him at once t'expire.'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarcely are the true words spoken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When through line of battle broken<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift he passes; and this brave son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His father bears in triumph on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reck'ning that he a trophy has<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the conquerors' doth surpass.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He safely goes: for, lo, amaz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe upon them wistful gaz'd:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> +<span class="i0">The conquerors the conquer'd are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By filial love so strong, so fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flames Troy willingly receives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jubilant that the old man lives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcomes the torches, that the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May not conceal this deed of light.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All praise to thee, high-hearted son!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou an undying name hast won:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The debt of love thou hast repaid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto thy father, who is made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy debtor now; for life he gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou in turn his life dost save.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy the son whom thus we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Father of his own sire to be. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="PHOENICIS_GENETHLIACON_ET_EPICEDION" id="PHOENICIS_GENETHLIACON_ET_EPICEDION"></a>PHOENICIS GENETHLIACON ET EPICEDION.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Phoenix alumna mortis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam mira tua puerpera!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu scandis haud nidos, sed ignes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non parere sed perire ceu parata:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mors obstetrix; atque ipsa tu teipsam paris,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tu tuique mater ipsa es,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tu tuique filia.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu sic odora messis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surgis tuorum funerum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tibique per tuam ruinam<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> +<span class="i0">Reparata, te succedis ipsa. Mors ô<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faecunda; sancta ô lucra pretiosae necis!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vive, monstrum dulce, vive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tu tibique suffice.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">OF THE GENERATION AND REGENERATION OF +THE PHŒNIX.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Phœnix, nursling of Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How wondrous is thy birth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou gainest not thy breath<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I' nest, like birds of Earth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid fire all flaming hot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou strangely art begot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leaping flames thee cherish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thou seem'st to perish.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, Death thy midwife is;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, thyself thou bearest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O tell me how is this,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That mystery thou preparest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mother of thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou daughter of thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thy 'pointed hour is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou an od'rous nest entwinest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as for thy destruction,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou 'midst its fires reclinest.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most surely thou'rt consum'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most surely thou'rt relum'd.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +<span class="i0">O fruitful Death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O gainful Death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live then, self-containèd bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most pleasing wonder.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old legend is absurd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But truth lies under. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="EPITAPHIUM" id="EPITAPHIUM"></a>EPITAPHIUM.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quisquis nectareo serenus aevo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et spe lucidus aureae juventae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nescis purpureos abire soles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nescis vincula ferreamque noctem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imi careris horridumque Ditem,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et spectas tremulam procul senectam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc disces lacrymas, et huc repones.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic, ô scilicet hic brevi sub antro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spes et gaudia mille, mille, longam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu longam nimis! induere noctem.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flammantem nitidae facem juventae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Submersit Stygiae paludis unda.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo, si lacrymas neges doloris,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huc certo lacrymas feres timoris.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>I correct, in l. 6, 'tremulam' for 'tremulum;' l. 7, 'disces' +for 'discas,' and 'huc' for 'hinc.' G.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">EPITAPH.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye that still, serene in peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lying in the lap of ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe the hopes of golden youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have not heard the bitter truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shining suns fade at a breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye, with little dread of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fear of chains and iron night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man's last prison, or the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gloomy Dis; that think to keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old age away,—look here, and weep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, to this one narrow room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand joys and hopes have come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here bright minutes many a one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have a lasting night put on:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth's torch, that flash'd such light about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is in the Stygian wave put out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, if you grudge poor grief a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heave, at least, a sigh for fear. <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">ANOTHER RENDERING (<i>more freely</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er ye be, upgazing here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm, unruffl'd, without tear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyous in your golden prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unwitting of the time<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +<span class="i0">When shall pale Life's glowing sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the web of years be spun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking not o' the iron night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where grim Pluto reigns in might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking not of the nether world,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With its clanking chains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither damnèd souls are hurl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the Judge arraigns;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seeing old age far away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making Life one holiday;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here perceive that Grief shall yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your ruddy cheeks with sorrow wet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here musing upon this poor stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye may learn prevention.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Earth, what is it but a home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fugitive as sea-wave's foam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark where breaks the whit'n'd wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid the cliffs—an archèd cave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light and shadow play within,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flick'ring o'er its walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the gloom—with Hell akin—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A dull stream slowly crawls.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">E'en such is Life, how bright soe'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope and Joy lure to Despair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Life's stream goes plunging down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into dark drear Acheron;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth's bright torch extinguish'd quite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden Day exchang'd for Night:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +<span class="i0">To long night of changeless woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift the Christless souls shall go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shun not therefore in thy prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shun not whilst thou art in Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears of penitence over sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or bitterly shalt thou rue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Death shall fling his javelin,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Hell's prison thee immew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bethink thee in thy golden prime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bethink thee whilst thou'rt yet in Time. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="ELEGIA" id="ELEGIA"></a>ELEGIA.<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ite, meae lacrymae, nec enim moror, ite; sed oro<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tantum ne miserae claudite vocis iter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O liceat querulos verbis animare dolores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et saltem 'Ah periit!' dicere noster amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce negant tamen; ecce negant, lacrymaeque rebelles<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pergunt indomita praecipitantque via.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Visne, ô care, igitur te nostra silentia dicant?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vis fleat assiduo murmure mutus amor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flebit, et urna suos semper bibet humida rores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et fidas semper semper habebit aquas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interea, quicunque estis, ne credite mirum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Si verae lacrymae non didicere loqui.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">ELEGY.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flow, flow, my tears; I stay you not; but pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my unhappy voice close not the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My plaintive griefs with words, O let me move;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To say, 'Alas, he died!' allow my love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, they say, no—the rebel tears say, no!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with unconquer'd headlong torrent flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wouldst thou, O dear one, that our silence speak?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute love with ceaseless sob moisten our cheek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shall; and still thine urn drink its own dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never its own faithful waters lose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile let no one think a wonder wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If real tears to speak could not be taught. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="THESAURUS_MALORUM_FOEMINA" id="THESAURUS_MALORUM_FOEMINA"></a>THESAURUS MALORUM FOEMINA.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quis deus, ô quis erat, qui te, mala foemina, finxit?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proh, crimen superum, noxa pudenda deum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae divum manus est adeo non dextera mundo?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In nostras clades ingeniosa manus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parcite; peccavi: nec enim pia numina possunt<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam crudele semel vel voluisse nefas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vestrum opus est pietas; opus est concordia vestrum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vos equidem tales haud reor artifices.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heus, inferna cohors, foetus cognoscite vestros.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Num pudet hanc vestrum vincere posse scelus?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +<span class="i0">Plaudite Tartarei proceres Erebique potentes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nae mirum est tantum vos potuisse malum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam vestras laudate manus. Si forte tacetis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Artificum laudes grande loquetur opus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam bene vos omnes speculo contemplor in isto?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pectus in angustum cogitur omne malum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin dormi, Pluto; rabidas compesce sorores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam non poscit opem nostra ruina tuam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec satis in nostros fabricata est machina muros,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mortales furias Tartara nostra dabunt.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">WOMAN A TREASURY OF EVILS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What god? or who was it? I ask, contriv'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, O Woman, evil Woman? who conniv'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together—who—in this supremest crime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the divinities, before old Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was born? Alas, most dire calamity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As e'er has come upon humanity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence was the hand, ye Powers, so evil-skill'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sin and mischief, so perversely will'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To curse this world of ours? But hold! I blunder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must to the dark regions lying under,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n Hell, descend. Not Thee, O God above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Thou art pitiful, for Thou art Love:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of all the gracious Pow'rs supernal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye, O Furies, from the pit infernal,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span> +<span class="i0">Ye, ye the work devis'd, matur'd, achiev'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought to Man; to Man—frail Man! deceiv'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, hosts of evil! ho! on you I call:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold your offspring diabolical.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does it a blush raise?—Spirits of evil, speak!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as expos'd crime brings to mortal cheek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, these your works yourselves surpass, I wis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clap hands, ye potentates of the Abyss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rulers of Erebus, is it not a wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worthy of Hell's most resonant swift thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ye such thing contrivèd have as Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never cast out, nor e'er to Hell was driven?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take ye your praise, your praise; this work o' your hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absolute in mischief 'bove compar'son stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or if ye silent be, your work will speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your praise. Ha, ha! what mean ye that ye shriek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus as I meditate with pulse of fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this monster, Woman? Ah, 'tis clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see your guile and skill. The gods above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would have all ills within one scant breast move!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bed, Pluto, king of the nether world;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep on in peace; be every banner furl'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye fires, go out; Man's ruin is complete;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No need of you—in Woman all woes meet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her, ye devils, ye have so contriv'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Tempter, who—better than had ye div'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To furthest Tartarus—Man's protecting wall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall breach. Earth's fury—Woman—passes all! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span></div></div> + + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_2_2" id="Latin_Poems_2_2"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART SECOND. SECULAR.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>II.</h2> + +<p class="center">MISCELLANEOUS AND COMMEMORATIVE.</p> + +<p class="center">NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Once more the Sancroft <span class="smcap">MS.</span> furnishes the Poems of this +division, all hitherto unprinted. In this section I have again +been largely and finely aided in the translations by my already-named +friend the Rev. Richard Wilton, as before. G.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_q.png" width="550" height="122" alt="Decoration Q" /> +</div> + + +<h3><a name="PULCHRA_NON_DIUTURNA" id="PULCHRA_NON_DIUTURNA"></a>PULCHRA NON DIUTURNA.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Eheu</span>, ver breve et invidum!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eheu, floriduli dies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo curritis improba,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et quae nunc face fulgurat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulcis forma tenacibus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immiscebitur infimae:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heu, noctis nebulis; amor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fallax, umbraque somnii.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin incumbitis; invida<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic dictat colus, et rota<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cani temporis incito<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Currens orbe volubilis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O deprendite lubricos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Annos; et liquidum jubar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verni sideris, ac novi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floris fulgura, mollibus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae debetis amoribus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non impendite luridos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In manes avidum et Chaos.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quanquam sidereis genis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae semper nive sobria<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinceris spatiis vigent,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> +<span class="i0">Floris germine simplicis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flagrant ingenuae rosae:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quanquam perpetua fide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illic mille Cupidines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Centum mille Cupidines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pastos nectarea dape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blandis sumptibus educas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis qui spatiis vagi,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plenis lusibus ebrii,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Udo rore beatuli,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uno plus decies die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis ex oculis tuis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis ex oculis suas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sopitas animant faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et languentia recreant<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Succo spicula melleo:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tum flammis agiles novis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lasciva volitant face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tum plenis tumidi minis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tum vel sidera territant,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et coelum et fragilem Jovem:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quanquam fronte sub ardua<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Majestas gravis excubans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulces fortiter improbis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leges dictat amoribus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quanquam tota, per omnia,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coelum machina praeferat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tanquam pagina multiplex<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span> +<span class="i0">Vivo scripta volumine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terris indigitans polos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et compendia siderum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Istis heu tamen heu genis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Istis purpureis genis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oris sidere florido,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regno frontis amabili;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mors heu crastina forsitan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crudeles faciet notas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naturaeque superbiam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Damnabit tumuli specu.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">THE BEAUTIFUL NOT LASTING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, how brief and grudg'd our Spring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, flow'ry days how vanishing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en so ye hasten on and on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an unceasing motion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, sweet Beauty, brightly flashing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all too soon thy fairness dashing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To depths of lowest Night must go:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, losing there thy hasty glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark'ning mists around thee clinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy loveliness swift-winging:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A love that brightens to deceive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dream-shadow, fugitive.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +<span class="i1">Ye therefore o'er whom Life's young Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shineth still with golden ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seize—Fate's harsh distaff makes appeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hoary Time's quick-whirling wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As round and round the circle spins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to furthest distance wins—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seize ye the gliding seasons fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dews of vernal Phosphor sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And new-blown flowers' brightness meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, what to tender loves ye owe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waste not on Chaos dark below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where pallid ghosts dim-gleaming go.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though, Beauty, on thy starry cheeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where snow's white pureness ever breaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where gazing, we see born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses fresh without all thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buds intertwining undefil'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spotless as e'er a grace-born child:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though thou with everlasting faith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fosterest with thy nectar'd breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myriad Loves, and dost them feed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With honey'd feast of heavenly mead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In gentle draughts; and they roam round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy realms, and aye are found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surfeiting themselves with play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one amorous holiday;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy in the drenching dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seeking ever to renew<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +<span class="i0">Their torch-flames at thy fair eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whet blunt arrows' ecstasies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sweet juice that in honey lies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, with their flame relumèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deftly hover, airy-plumèd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving higher still and higher<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their torches that raise soft desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Menacing the very stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea the old heavens i' their wars:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Although beneath thy high-arch'd brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sits Majesty, nor doth allow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wanton loves such liberty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As mocks the Ruler of the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in their wild career gives pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imposing on them Love's sweet laws:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though thy whole frame in every part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sets forth the sky as in a chart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thy fair face in every look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shows heaven in page of living book;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Earth reveals the starry skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the bright glances of thine eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet, alas, on these fair cheeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the rose all-blushing speaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall come the snow's sad whiteness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the red, heart-breaking brightness:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the 'human face divine,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That as a star doth radiant shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall come the deep'ning shadow,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> +<span class="i0">As clouds across the dappl'd meadow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the high state of the brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow Death may make his blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all of Nature's bravery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone, in the Grave's cavern lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, the fairest is the fleetest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, how short-liv'd is the sweetest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, the richest is the rarest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, that Death doth spoil the fairest! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="HYMNUS_VENERI" id="HYMNUS_VENERI"></a>HYMNUS VENERI,</h3> + +<p class="center">DUM IN ILLIUS TUTELAM TRANSEUNT VIRGINES.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu tuis adsis, Venus alme, sacris:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rideas blandum, Venus, et benignum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quale cum Martem premis, aureoque<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Frangis ocello.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rideas ô tum neque flamma Phoebum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec juvent Phoeben sua tela; gestat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te satis contra tuus ille tantum<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tela Cupido.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe in ipsius pharetra Dianae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic suas ridens posuit sagittas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ausus et flammae Dominum magistris<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Urere flammis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virginum te orat chorus—esse longum<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> +<span class="i0">Virgines nollent—modo servientum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tot columbarum tibi passerumque augere catervam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dedicant quicquid labra vel rosarum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Colla, vel servant tibi liliorum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dedicant totum tibi ver genarum,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ver oculorum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc tuo sumas licet arma nato,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu novas his ex oculis sagittas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seu faces flamma velit acriori<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Flave comatas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sume, et ô discant quid amica, quid nox,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid bene et blande vigilata nox sit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid sibi dulcis furor, et protervus<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Poscat amator.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sume per quae tot tibi corda flagrant,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per quod arcanum tua cestus halat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per tuus quicquid tibi dixit olim aut<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Fecit Adonis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">A HYMN TO VENUS,</p> + +<p class="center">WHILE THE VIRGINS PASS UNDER HER PROTECTION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile, Venus, with the smile that charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Mars enfolds thee in his arms,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> +<span class="i0">O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renownèd from the ages olden.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile; then Phœbus' flame shall fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor Phœbe her own darts avail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Cupid only against thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wields successful weaponry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft and oft the laughing Boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the wildness of his joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has slipt into Diana's quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His keen arrows, that a shiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasant-painful send through all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he, trickster, doth enthral.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of Fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flames more burning, in his ire.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it but to offer here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the flock that hovers near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their prayer there's no denying.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, they dedicate in posies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All their lips supply of roses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All their necks, of lilies, white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the dewy stainless light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that which from their eyes doth break.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thy wanton Boy to make<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +<span class="i0">Arrows from their fire-darting eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or torches flame-tipp'd that surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Love's delicious agonies.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Take them, and see thou lett'st them know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What means a 'mistress;' and then show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the Night all-wakeful is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the rapture of its bliss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the bold lover shall demand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all charms he doth command.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Take them: by all the hearts that burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And passionate unto thee turn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the mysteries that are breath'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all to thee Adonis e'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or said or did, when he would swear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er i' the world was one so fair! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="VERIS_DESCRIPTIO" id="VERIS_DESCRIPTIO"></a>VERIS DESCRIPTIO.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tempus adest, placidis quo sol novus auctior horis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purpureos mulcere dies, et sidere verno<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floridus, augusto solet ire per aethera vultu,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naturae communis amor; spes aurea mundi;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virgineum decus, et dulcis lascivia rerum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ver tenerum, ver molle subit; jam pulchrior annus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pube nova, roseaeque recens in flore juventae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felici fragrat gremio, et laxatur odora<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> +<span class="i0">Prole parens; per aquas, perque arva, per omnia late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipse suas miratur opes, miratur honores.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam Zephyro resoluta suo tumet ebria tellus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et crebro bibit imbre Jovem, sub frondibus altis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flora sedens, audit, felix! quo murmure lapsis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fons patrius minitetur aquis, quae vertice crispo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Respiciunt tantum, et strepero procul agmine pergunt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Audit, et arboreis siquid gemebunda recurrens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Garriat aura comis, audit, quibus ipsa susurris<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Annuit, et facili cervice remurmurat arbor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin audit querulas, audit quodcunque per umbras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flebilibus Philomela modis miserabile narrat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tum quoque praecipue blandis Cytherea per orbem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spargitur imperiis; molles tum major habenas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Incutit increpitans, cestus magis ignea rores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ingeminat, tumidosque sinus flagrantior ambit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nympharum incedit late, Charitumque corona<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amplior, et plures curru jam nectit olores:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin ipsos quoque tum campis emittit apricis<br /></span> +<span class="sidenote">Venus</span> +<span class="i0">Laeta parens gremioque omnes effundit Amores. <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille ruunt equites blandi, peditumque protervae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille ruunt acies: levium pars terga ferarum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Insiliunt, gaudentque suis stimulare sagittis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pars optans gemino multum properare volatu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aërios conscendit equos; hic passere blando<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Subsiliens leve ludit iter; micat huc, micat illuc<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hospitio levis incerto, et vagus omnibus umbris:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verum alter gravidis insurgens major habenis<br /></span> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span></p><span class="i0">Maternas molitur aves: illi improbus acrem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Versat apem similis, seseque agnoscit in illo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et brevibus miscere vias ac frangere gyris:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pars leviter per prata vagi sua lilia dignis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contendunt sociare rosis; tum floreus ordo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consilio fragrante venit; lascivit in omni<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Germine laeta manus; nitidis nova gloria pennis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Additur; illustri gremio sedet aurea messis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaudet odoratas coma blandior ire sub umbras.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excutiunt solitas, immitia tela, sagittas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ridentesque aliis pharetrae spectantur in armis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flore manus, et flore sinus, flore omnia lucent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Undique jam flos est. Vitreas hic pronus ad undas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ingenium illudentis aquae, fluitantiaque ora,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et vaga miratur tremulae mendacia formae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inde suos probat explorans, et judice nympha<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Informat radios, ne non satis igne protervo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ora tremant, agilesque docet nova fulgura vultus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Atque suo vibrare jubet petulantius astro.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To climb with face august the heavenly way;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +<span class="i0">All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which for garlands virgins are beholden.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a glad plenty of all living things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delicious odours pours from happy breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unbound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with curl'd head—alas, unduteous daughters—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only look back, and then a garrulous band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursue their laughing way o'er all the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lists how the sighing, oft-returning air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And calls the world to worship at her feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> +<span class="i0">More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her warm swelling bosom girds around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She marches forth, and to her chariot-traces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her maternal bosom see her pour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand horsemen sweet career around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so ascend each one an airy steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only another self in him to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In tiny circles they awhile revolve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New glory on their shining pinions rests,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +<span class="i0">A golden harvest settles on their breasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While other arms their smiling quivers show.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On every side appears a flowery sheen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liquid likeness of his wavering face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence, his own rays examining, he tries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rays more wanton, bickering like a star. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="PRISCIANUS_VERBERANS_ET_VAPULANS" id="PRISCIANUS_VERBERANS_ET_VAPULANS"></a>PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>The two following poems—somewhat out of character, so +to say, with Crashaw—were probably prepared for a tractate, +which it has been our good fortune to hap on in the Bodleian. +It is a Latin burlesque Poem, filling a small 4to of 20 pages, +with this title:</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8 smcap">En<br /></span> +<span class="i6 smcap">Priscianus<br /></span> +<span class="i6 smcap">Verberans<br /></span> +<span class="i8 smcap">et<br /></span> +<span class="i6 smcap">Vapulans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam publicato verberans aures stylo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> +<span class="i6">Londini</span> +<span class="i0">Excudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roberti Mulbourne ad insigne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canis venatici in coemeterio Paulino. <span class="source">1632.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The words 'Priscianus Verberans et Vapulans' remind us of +the once-famous 'Comoedia' of Nicodemus Freschlin; but the +later poem shows no reminiscence of the earlier. These details +will doubtless interest and amuse in relation to Crashaw's +pieces. Priscianus, otherwise Nisus, a schoolmaster, whips a +boy who broke and dirtied his whipping-horse, and the boy's +parents bring an action against him for assault. The place is +evidently Aldborough in Suffolk—illumined by the genius of +Crabbe—and the name of the boy's family Coleman. The +poem thus begins and proceeds—the marginal notes being +placed at the bottom of our pages:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> arvis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adepta<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Villa<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He describes the school:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vicinae senior Carbonius<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> incola villae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Lingua vernacula idem quod <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἀνθράκανδρος</span>,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20<i>s.</i> a year:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De stipe<a name="FNanchor_103_103b" id="FNanchor_103_103b"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which +saves boys from the gallows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Iste caballus<br /></span> +<span class="sidenote">the Trojan</span> +<span class="i0">Non in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinam <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A triplici ligno<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> lignum hoc penate tuetur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praecipitem aetatem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Young Coleman plays truant from school, and one day, when +the school is empty, breaks and defiles the horse. He openly +boasts of his feat, and returning another day to repeat his misdeed, +is caught by Nisus, who mounts him on the injured +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span>horse, which, by poetical license, is made to whinny with content. +The youth expects twenty cuts, and receives four:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quattuor<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Coleman senior calls on the Schoolmaster, who remarks that +payment for his son's schooling is in arrear. Coleman returns +with Mrs. Coleman, and demands a receipt for the payment, +which he makes, as Nisus discovers, lest a counter-action be +brought against him:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vult sibi ut absolvens<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> accepti latio detur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">..... bona Carbonissa<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Digna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> cathedra,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the +marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qui populo Placita ad Communia<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> panditur, exit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Schedula quod vulgo<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> Regis Breve dicitur: illo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In responsurum praescripto tempore: tempus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cunctarum<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> lux est animarum crastini. Verum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Actor quis?<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a> Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armis<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> +<span class="i0">Insultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericli<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De pueri vita ut desperaretur.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first law-suit:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Ecce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and the marginal note is 'In causis litigiosis sive casibus +inscriptionum stylus Johannes de Stiles versus Johannem de +Nokes.' A concluding chronogram gives the year 1629:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Schoolmaster's friends have written him complimentary +epigrams, which are prefixed to his poem. One is worth reproducing, +ae it has an echo of Crashaw's:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ad <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">κοπροχρυσοῦντα</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In black-letter, as follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.</p> + +<p>There seems little doubt that Crashaw's two poems were +born of this anonymous tractate. Cf. 'rixivomas' (p. 310) with +'vomitivam' and 'rixosa volumina linguae.' Biographically +they and others secular have a special interest and value. My +good friend Rev. Richard Wilton, as before, has very happily +translated these playthings. <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span> +<span class="i0">Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iram<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In such adornment shall he brightly shine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> +<span class="i0">In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again he bore thee—in a better way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mother furious raves and wildly splutters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such words as in no law-court ever rung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever judge such nasty action tries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See that he blow his nose well, I advise.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span> +<span class="i0">But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="AD_LIBRUM" id="AD_LIBRUM"></a>AD LIBRUM</h3> + +<p class="center">SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR +'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sordes ô tibi gratulamur istas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Musa, ô tibi candidas, suoque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacro carmine quippe delinitae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Se nunc, ô bene nesciunt, novaque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mirantur facie novum nitorem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsas tu facis ô nitere sordes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si non hic natibus procax malignis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foedo fulmine turpis intonasset,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Docto et murmure carminis severi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulces fortiter aggregaret iras?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsae ô te faciunt nitere sordes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turpi quam bene degener parenti!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span> +<span class="i0">Foedi filia tam serena fontis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has de stercore quis putaret undas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surge inter medias serena sordes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spumis qualiter in suis Dione,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ortu purpureo movebat undas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT</p> + +<p class="center">PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, +WHICH IS CALLED 'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET +VAPULANS.'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On this vile theme thee we congratulate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O golden Muse, pleasing and delicate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fair white vileness, Muse, which by its own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or name or face is now no longer known.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, charm'd by thy poetic sacred strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It knows not, happily, itself again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with new face wonders at its new splendour—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For splendid e'en a vile theme thou canst render:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Congratulations for vile theme we tender.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For had not <i>he</i>,<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> with headlong buttocks base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone flashing foully on with thunderous pace,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> +<span class="i0">From whence would this avenging plant have sprung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This solemn strain with polish'd music rung?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whence had gather'd these brave angers tender?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Muse, the vilest theme can bring thee splendour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which congratulations now we render.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy Hippocrenè comes with a fair face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Finely unworthy of its father base;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a foul fountain so serene a daughter:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From dunghill, who would dream such crystal water?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thus rise, O Muse, O rise, a milk-white queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the midst of vileness rise serene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as Venus rising from her spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she discover'd to the light of day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her golden limbs, the billowy waves surprising<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the first glory of her purple rising;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So rise, O Muse, thy milk-white grace unfold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ennius' dunghill will be Virgil's gold! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="MELIUS_PURGATUR_STOMACHUS_PER" id="MELIUS_PURGATUR_STOMACHUS_PER"></a>MELIUS PURGATUR STOMACHUS PER</h3> + +<p class="center">VOMITUM QUAM PER SECESSUM.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dum vires refero vomitus et nobile munus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Da mini de vomitu, grandis Homere, tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nempe olim, multi cum carminis anxia moles<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vexabat stomachum, magne Poeta, tuum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aegraque jejuno tenuebat pectora morsu,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jussit et in crudam semper hiare famem:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span> +<span class="i0">Phoebus, ut est medicus, vomitoria pocula praebens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Morbum omnem longos expulit in vomitus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protinus et centum incumbunt toto ore Poetae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Certantes sacras lambere relliquias.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod vix fecissent, scio, si medicamen ineptum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Venisset misere posteriore via.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe per anfractus caecique volumina ventris<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sacra, putas, hostem vult medicina sequi?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam turpes tenebras haec non dignatur, at ipsum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sedibus ex imis imperiosa trahit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ERGO:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Per vomitum stomachus melius purgabitur, alvus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam qua secretis exit opaca viis.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>While we do not deem it expedient to translate this somewhat +coarse <i>jeu d'esprit</i>, its sentiment and allusions will be +found anticipated in the lines 'To the Reader, upon the Author +his Kins-man,' prefixed to 'Follie's Anatomie; or Satyres and +Satyricall Epigrams; with a compendious History of Ixion's +Wheele. Compiled by Henry Hutton, Dunelmensis.' London, +1619 (pp. 3-4)—which we give here:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Homer in his time made a great feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every Poet was thereat a guest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All had their welcome, yet not all one fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To them above the salt (his chiefest care)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spread a banquet of choice Poesie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon they fed even to satietie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lower end had from that end their cates;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Homer, setting open his dung-gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delivered from that dresser excrement,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereon they glutted, and returned in print.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let no man wonder that I this rehearse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought came from Homer but it turned to verse.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> +<span class="i0">Now where our Author was, at this good cheere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where was his place, or whether he were there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether he waited, or he tooke away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this same point I cannot soothly say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this I ghesse: being then a dandiprat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some witty Poet took him on his lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fed him, from above, with some choice bit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence his acumen, and a ready wit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But prayers from a friendly pen ill thrive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And truth's scarce truth, spoke by a relative.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let envy, therefore, give her vote herein:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envy and th' Author sure are nought akin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He personate bad Envy; yet say so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lickt at Homer's mouth, not from below. <span class="smcap source">R[alph] H[utton].</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Percy Society edit. (Rimbault), 1842. Both Hutton and Crashaw +remind us of the like sportiveness (rough) in Dryden and +Byron. G.</p></blockquote> + + +<h3><a name="CUM_HORUM_ALIQUA_DEDICARAM" id="CUM_HORUM_ALIQUA_DEDICARAM"></a>CUM HORUM ALIQUA DEDICARAM</h3> + +<p class="center">PRAECEPTORI MEO COLENDISSIMO, AMICO AMICISSIMO, +R. BROOKE.<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a></p> + +<p class="center">En tibi Musam, Praeceptor colendissime, quas ex +tuis modo scholis, quasi ex Apollinis officina, accepit +alas timide adhuc, nec aliter quam sub oculis tuis jactitantem.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Qualiter e nido multa jam floridus ala<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Astra sibi meditatur avis, pulchrosque meatus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aërios inter proceres, licet aethera nunquam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expertus, rudibusque illi sit in ardua pennis<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span> +<span class="i0">Prima fides, micat ire tamen, quatiensque decora<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veste leves humeros, querulumque per aëra ludens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil dubitat vel in astra vagos suspendere nisus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At vero simul immensum per inane profundis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exhaustus spatiis, vacuoque sub aethere pendens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arva procul sylvasque suas, procul omnia cernit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cernere quae solitus: tum vero victa cadit mens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spesque suas, et tanta timens conamina, totus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Respicit ad matrem, pronisque revertitur auris.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Quod tibi enim haec feram, vir ornatissime, non +ambitio dantis est, sed justitia reddentis; neque te +libelli mei tam elegi patronum, quam dominum agnosco. +Tua sane sunt haec et mea; neque tamen ita mea sunt, +quin si quid in illis boni est, tuum hoc sit totum, neque +interim in tantum tua, ut quantumcumque est in illis +mali, illud non sit ex integro meum. Ita medio quodam +et misto jure utriusque sunt, ne vel mihi, dum me in societatem +tuarum laudum elevarem, invidiam facerem; +vel injuriam tibi, ut qui te in tenuitatis meae consortium +deducere conarer. Ego enim de meo nihil ausim boni +mecum agnoscere, nedum profiteri palam, praeter hoc +unum, quo tamen nihil melius, animum nempe non +ingratum tuorum beneficiorum historiam religiosissima +fide in se reponentem. Hoc quibuscumque testibus +coram, hoc palam in os coeli meaeque conscientiae meum +jacto effero me in hoc ultra aemuli patientiam. Enim +vero elegantiore obsequio venerentur te, et venerantur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> +scio, tuorum alii: nemo me sincero magis vel ingenuo +poterit. Horum denique rivulorum, tenuium utcunque +nulliusque nominis, haec saltem laus erit propria, quod +suum nempe norint Oceanum.</p> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">WHEN I HAD DEDICATED CERTAIN OF MY POEMS</p> + +<p class="center">TO MY MOST ESTIMABLE PRECEPTOR AND MOST FRIENDLY +FRIEND, R. BROOKE.</p> + +<p>'Well done, Muse!' was thy encouraging word, +most estimable Præceptor; 'Well done, Muse!' fluttering +its wings, which it received from thy School of late, +as from Apollo's workshop, timidly as yet, nor otherwise +than beneath thine eyes.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like as a nestling, feather'd gaily o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is meditating towards the stars to soar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in ambitious flights already vies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the wing'd chiefs that skim along the skies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though he never has essay'd the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And needs must trust in plumes untried to bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwonted burden heavenward? yet he quivers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stretch his wings, and his fair plumage shivers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round his light shoulders till he flits away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While whispering airs against his pinions play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dreams he will suspend his wandering flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anywhere short of regions starry bright.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when exhausted by the spaces high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the immeasurable void of sky,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> +<span class="i0">Hovering in empty air, far off he sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fields and hedges and familiar trees—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, how far off!—which used his sight to please;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sudden overpower'd behold him sink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from his hopes and lofty soarings shrink:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his dear mother his whole soul looks back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down he flutters on the homeward track.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That I offer thee these poems, most honourable Sir, +is not the ambitious desire to give, but the righteous +wish to restore what is due. And I have not chosen +thee so much the patron of my little book, as I recognise +thee to be its owner. Thine indeed these things +are, and mine: nor yet are they so much mine, but +that if there is anything good in them, this is wholly +thine; nor at the same time are they so far thine, that +everything bad in them is not entirely mine. Thus, +by a sort of common and joint right, they belong to +each of us; lest either I should bring envy to myself, +while I presumed to a share of thy praises, or injury +to thee, by endeavouring to drag thee down to association +with my feebleness. For concerning anything +belonging to me, I should not venture even to myself +to admit any merit, much less to proclaim it openly, +except this one thing, than which there is nothing +more excellent—namely, a mind not ungrateful, and +cherishing in itself with most punctilious fidelity the +record of thy kindnesses.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span></p> + +<p>This in the presence of any witnesses, this openly +in the face of heaven and to my own conscience, I boast +of as my own. I proclaim myself in this particular incapable +of enduring a rival; for others of thy admirers +[pupils] may venerate thee, and do venerate thee, with +more polite attention, but none will be able to do so +with observance more sincere and felt. In conclusion; +of these rivulets, however slender they may be and of +no name, this at least will be the fitting praise—that +at all events they know their own Ocean. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span></p> + + +<h3><a name="IN_OBITUM_REV_V_D_MANSELL" id="IN_OBITUM_REV_V_D_MANSELL"></a>IN OBITUM REV. V. D<sup>ris</sup> MANSELL,</h3> + +<p class="center">COLL. REGIN. M<sup>ri</sup> QUI VEN. D<sup>s</sup> BROOKE [M<sup>ri</sup> COLL. TRIN.], +INTERITUM PROXIME SECUTUS EST.<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ergo iterum in lacrymas et saevi murmura planctus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ire jubet tragica mors iterata manu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet illa novas quae jam fert dextra sagittas,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dextra priore recens sanguine stillat adhuc.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vos ô, quos socia Lachesis prope miscuit urna,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et vicina colus vix sinit esse duos;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ite ô, quos nostri jungunt consortia damni;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Per nostras lacrymas ô nimis ite pares;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span> +<span class="i0">Ite per Elysias felici tramite valles,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et sociis animos conciliate viis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illic ingentes ultro confundite manes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Noscat et aeternam mutua dextra fidem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communes eadem spargantur in otia curae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque idem felix poscat utrumque labor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nectarae simul ite vagis sermonibus horae;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nox trahat alternas continuata vices.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Una cibos ferat, una suas vocet arbor in umbras;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ambobus faciles herba det una toros.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Certum erit interea quanto sit major habenda<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam quae per vitam est, mortis amicitia.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">ON THE DEATH OF REV. DR. MANSELL,</p> + +<p class="center">MASTER OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE, WHICH FOLLOWED VERY CLOSELY +THE DECEASE OF REV. DR. BROOKE.<a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In tears once more and sighs of cruel woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's tragic stroke repeated bids us go;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span> +<span class="i0">That fatal hand, which now bears arrows new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still freshly drips with former crimson dew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye whom Fate almost mingl'd in one urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom to be two, close threads forbid discern;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go ye, who equally our sorrows share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By reason of our tears too much a pair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go where Elysian vales your steps invite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In social paths your happy souls unite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There mix your mighty shades with willing mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal faith your blended right-hands find.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let common cares be lost in the same joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the same happy labour both employs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through nectar'd hours in talk together range,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And night continue the sweet interchange:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span> +<span class="i0">One tree bear fruit for both, one tree yield shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the same turf your pleasant couch be made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus how much better will be plainly seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friendship of Death than that of life, I ween. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="HONORATISSIMO_DR_ROBERTO_HEATH" id="HONORATISSIMO_DR_ROBERTO_HEATH"></a>HONORATISSIMO DR. ROBERTO HEATH,</h3> + +<p class="center">SUMMO JUSTIT. DE COM. BANCO, GRATULATIO.<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ignitum latus et sacrum tibi gratulor ostrum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O amor atque tuae gloria magna togae:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam video Themis ecce humeris, Themis ardet in istis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque tuos gaudet tota venire sinus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ibi purpureo quam se bene porrigit astro,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et docet hic radios luxuriare suos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imo eat aeterna sic ô Themis aurea pompa;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic velit ô sidus semper habere suum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic flagret, et nunquam tua purpura palleat intus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O nunquam in vultus digna sit ire tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sanguine ab innocuo nullos bibat illa rubores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec tam crudeli murice proficiat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quaeque tibi est (nam quae non est tibi?) candida virtus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fortunam placide ducat in alta tuam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nullius viduae lacrymas tua marmora sudent;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec sit, quae inclamet te, tibi facta domus.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">327</a></span> +<span class="i0">Non gemat ulla suam pinus tibi scissa ruinam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ceu cadat in domini murmure maesta sui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fama suas subter pennas tibi sternat eunti;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illa tubae faciat te melioris opus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thura tuo, quacunque meat, cum nomine migrent;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaeque vehit felix te, vehat aura rosas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vive tuis, nec enim non sunt aequissima, votis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aequalis, quae te sidera cunque vocant.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haec donec niveae cedat tua purpura pallae,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lilium ibi fuerit, quae rosa vestis erat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD ROBERT HEATH,</p> + +<p class="center">ON HIS BEING MADE A JUDGE: A CONGRATULATION.<a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon thy sacred purple, barr'd with fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gratulate thee—glorious, lov'd attire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For on those shoulders I see Justice shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glad to hide within those folds of thine.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">328</a></span> +<span class="i0">O finely there she shoots her purple beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And teaches here her rays brightly to gleam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Justice thus in pomp eternal go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here always wish her golden star to glow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus blaze, and ne'er thy purple pale its blush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never need into thy face to flush.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From innocent blood ne'er drink a deeper dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn more crimson from such cruelty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let all fair virtues—for thou ownest all—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calmly to heaven above thy footsteps call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No widows' tears thy marble halls distil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No house cry out against thee, built by ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No timber cut for thee its downfall groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid its lord's murmurs sadly overthrown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Fame spread out her wings beneath thy feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thee with loud applause her trumpet greet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May incense waft thy name where'er it goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The happy gale which bears thee bear the rose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live equal to thy prayers, most just are they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever stars direct thee on thy way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till this thy purple turn to robe of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where the rose had been, the lily glow! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">329</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="HORATII_ODE" id="HORATII_ODE"></a>HORATII ODE,</h2> + +<p class="center">Ille et nefasto te posuit die, &c. Lib. ii. 13.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἑλληνιστί.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc"> +<span class="i0"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">330</a></span>Ὥρᾳ σε κεῖνος θῆκεν ἀποφράδι<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ὁ πρῶτος ὅστις χειρὶ τε βώμακι<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἔθρεψε, δένδρον, τῆς τε κώμης<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Αἴτιον, ἐσσομένων τ' ἔλεγχος.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Κεῖνος τοκῆος θρύψε καὶ αὐχένα,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Κεῖνος γε, φαίην, ἅιματι ξεινίῳ<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Μυχώτατον κοιτῶνα ῥαῖνε<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Νύκτιος, ἀμφαφάασε κεῖνος<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Τὰ δῆτα Κόλχων φάρμακα, καὶ κακοῦ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Πᾶν χρῆμα, δώσας μοὶ ἐπιχώριον<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Σε στυγνὸν ἔρνος, δεσπότου σε<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ἔμπεσον ἐς κεφαλὴν ἀεικῶς.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Πάσης μὲν ὥρης πᾶν ἐπικίνδυνον<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Τίς οἶδε φεύγειν; δείδιε Βόσφορον<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Λιβὺς ὁ πλωτὴν, οὐδ' ἀναίκηρ<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Τὴν κρυφίην ἑτέρωθεν ὀκνεῖ.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Πάρθων μάχημον Ῥωμάϊκος φυγὴν,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Καὶ τόξα· Πάρθος Ῥωμαΐκην βίαν,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Καὶ δεσμὰ· λάους ἀλλὰ μοίρας<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Βάλλε, βαλεῖ τ' ἀδόκητος ὁρμή.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Σχέδον σχέδον πῶς Περσεφόνης ἴδον<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Αὔλην μελαίνην, καὶ κρίσιν Αἰακοῦ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Καλὴν τ' ἀπόστασιν μακαίρων<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Αἰολίαις κινύρην τε χορδαῖς<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Σαπφὼ πατρίδος μεμφομένην κόραις,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἠχοῦντα καὶ σε πλεῖον ἐπιχρύσῳ,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἀλκαῖε, πλήκτρῳ σκληρὰ νῆος,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Σκληρὰ φυγῆς, πολέμου τε σκληρά<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Εὐφημέουσαι δ' ἀμφοτέρων σκιαὶ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Κλύουσι θάμβει, τὰς δὲ μαχὰς πλέον,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἀναστάτους τε μὲν τυράννους<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ὠμιὰς ἔκπιεν ὦσι λᾶος.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Τί θαῦμ'; ἐκείναις θὴρ ὅτε τρίκρανος<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ἄκην ἀοιδαῖς, οὔατα κάββαλε,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἐριννύων θ' ἡδυπαθοῦσι<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Βόστρυχες, ἡσυχίων ἐχιδνῶν.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Καὶ δὴ Προμηθεὺς, καὶ Πέλοπος πατὴρ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Εὕδουσιν ἠχεῖ τῷ λαθικήδεϊ·<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ἄγειν λεόντας Ὠρίων δὲ<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Οὐ φιλεέι, φοβεράς τε λύγκας.<br /></span> +</span></div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_r.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration R" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">331</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Latin_Poems_2_3" id="Latin_Poems_2_3"></a>Latin Poems.</h1> + +<h2>PART SECOND. SECULAR.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>III.</h2> + +<p class="center">ROYAL AND ACADEMICAL.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">332</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<blockquote><p>In our Preface to the present Volume we give the title-pages +of the original publications wherein appeared the Royal and +Academical Poems of this section; in the translation of which +I owe again thanks to the friends of the former divisions, as +their initials show; and another, Professor Sole, of St. Mary's +College, Oscott, Birmingham, to whom I am indebted for that +bearing his initials. One to the 'Princess,' celebrated before, is +here printed as well as translated for the first time, as noted +in the place. It was deemed preferable to include it with the +others rather than among those hitherto unprinted. For brief +notices of the various Royal and Academical celebrities of these +poems, see Memorial-Introduction and related English poems +in Vol. I. and notes in their places in the present Volume.</p> + +<p>Once more I note here the chief errors of Turnbull's text: +'Ad Carolum,' &c. l. 11, 'perrerati' for 'pererrati;' l. 26, 'discere' +for 'dicere:' in 'In Serenissimæ Reginæ' &c. the heading is +'Senerissimæ;' l. 14, 'tuos' for 'tuus;' l. 41, 'Namque' for +'Nam quæ;' l. 43, 'Junus' for 'Janus:' in 'Principi recens' &c. +l. 4, 'eum' for 'cum;' l. 10, 'lato' for 'late;' l. 22, 'imperiosus' +for 'imperiosior;' l. 26, 'quoque' for 'quoquo;' l. 30, 'melle' +for 'molle:' in 'Ad Reginam,' l. 35, 'aure' for 'auree:' in 'Votiva +Domus' &c. l. 20, 'teneræ' for 'tremulae;' l. 25, 'jam' for +'bene;' l. 26, 'mulcent' for 'mulceat;' l. 29, 'minium' for +'nimium;' l. 40, 'ora' for 'ara;' l. 45, 'volvit' for 'volvat;' +l. 50, 'motus ad oras' for 'nidus ad aras:' in 'Ejusdem caeterorum' +&c. l. 5, 'natalis' for 'natales;' l. 15, 'qua' for 'quo;' +l. 31, 'longe' for 'longo:' in 'Venerabili viro magistro Tournay' +&c. l. 8, 'vixerit' for 'vexerit;' l. 21, 'tuos est' for 'tuas eat;' +ll. 24, 27, and 28, 'est' for 'eat:' in 'Or. viro praeceptori' &c. l. +6, 'metuendas' for 'metuendus;' l. 20, 'est' for 'eat.' <span class="source">G.</span></p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">333</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_m.png" width="550" height="108" alt="Decoration M" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AD_CAROLUM_PRIMUM" id="AD_CAROLUM_PRIMUM"></a>AD CAROLUM PRIMUM:</h2> + +<p class="center">REX REDUX.<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ille redit, redit. Hoc populi bona murmura volvunt;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Publicus hoc, audin'? plausus ad astra refert:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc omni sedet in vultu commune serenum;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Omnibus hinc una est laetitiae facies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rex noster, lux nostra redit; redeuntis ad ora<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arridet totis Anglia laeta genis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quisque suos oculos oculis accendit ab istis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque novum sacro sumit ab ore diem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forte roges tanto quae digna pericula plausu<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Evadat Carolus, quae mala quosve metus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anne pererrati male fida volumina ponti<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ausa illum terris pene negare suis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hospitis an nimii rursus sibi conscia tellus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vix bene speratum reddat Ibera caput.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nil horum; nec enim male fida volumina ponti<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut sacrum tellus vidit Ibera caput.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Verus amor tamen haec sibi falsa pericula fingit—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Falsa peric'la solet fingere verus amor;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">334</a></span> +<span class="i0">At Carolo qui falsa timet, nec vera timeret—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vera peric'la solet temnere verus amor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illi falsa timens, sibi vera pericula temnens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non solum est fidus, sed quoque fortis amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interea nostri satis ille est causa triumphi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et satis, ah, nostri causa doloris erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Causa doloris erat Carolus, sospes licet esset;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Anglia quod saltem dicere posset, abest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et satis est nostri Carolus nunc causa triumphi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dicere quod saltem possumus: Ille redit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">THE RETURN OF THE KING.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The King returns!' the people cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shouts of greeting scale the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The news sits in each look serene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In each a common joy is seen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our King! our light! she laughs once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad Anglia, as he gains her shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each at the King's eyes lights his eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees new day with his face arise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll ask, what fears beset his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ills, what dangers,—we're so gay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If 'gainst his bark, that sail'd for home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faithless billows dar'd to foam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or if, so seldom blest, you plann'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep him still, Iberian land.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">335</a></span> +<span class="i0">Nor waves have wrong'd his saintly head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor green Iberia felt his tread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet think such fancies true love will—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True love, that feigns false perils still:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Us such fears vex, whose hearts are stout—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True perils still true love will scout:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus fear false perils, scorn the true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will trusty love and brave in you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fitly we kept cloudy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because of him, as laughter now.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we could say, 'Our King's not here,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We griev'd for him, no danger near:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now our hearts can no least joy lack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we say, laughing, 'He's come back.' <span class="source">A.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="AD_PRINCIPEM_NONDUM_NATUM" id="AD_PRINCIPEM_NONDUM_NATUM"></a>AD PRINCIPEM NONDUM NATUM,</h3> + +<p class="center">REGINA GRAVIDA.<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nascere nunc, ô nunc; quid enim, puer alme, moraris?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nulla tibi dederit dulcior hora diem.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">336</a></span> +<span class="i0">Ergone tot tardos, ô lente, morabere menses?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rex redit; ipse veni, et dic, bone, gratus ades.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quid ave nostrum? quid nostri verba triumphi?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vagitu melius dixeris ista tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At maneas tamen, et nobis nova causa triumphi:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic demum fueris; nec nova causa tamen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quoties Carolo novus aut nova nascitur infans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Revera toties Carolus ipse redit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO THE ROYAL INFANT NOT YET BORN,</p> + +<p class="center">THE QUEEN BEING WITH CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be born, O, now; for why, fair child, delay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sweeter hour will bring to thee the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many months wilt linger on the wing?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King returns; come thou, and welcome bring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is our hail? our voice of triumph high?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt have said these better with thy cry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But stay; and soon new cause of triumph be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet in thee no new cause shall we see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft as to Charles is born new girl, new boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure Charles himself returns, and brings us joy. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">337</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN_FACIEM_AUGUSTISSIMI_REGIS" id="IN_FACIEM_AUGUSTISSIMI_REGIS"></a>IN FACIEM AUGUSTISSIMI REGIS</h2> + +<p class="center">A MORBILLIS INTEGRAM.<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Musa redi, vocat alma parens Aeademia: noster<br /></span> +<span class="i1">En redit, ore suo noster Apollo redit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vultus adhuc suus, et vultu sua purpura tantum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vivit, et admixtas pergit amare nives.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune illas violare genas? tune illa profanis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Morbe ferox, tentas ire per ora notis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu Phoebi faciem tentas, vanissime? Nostra<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nec Phoebe maculas novit habere suas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsa sui vindex facies morbum indignatur;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ipsa sedet radiis ô bene tuta suis:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe illic Deus est. coelumque et sanctius astrum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quippe sub his totus ridet Apollo genis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod facie Rex tutus erat, quod caetera tactus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc hominem Rex est fassus, et inde Deum.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">338</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO THE FACE OF THE MOST AUGUST KING.</p> + +<p class="center">UNINJURED BY SMALL-POX.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, Muse, at call of thy Academy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his own face our Phœbus here we see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His face his own yet, with its own red dyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with its whiteness loves to be allied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fierce disease, dost thou, with marks profane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attempt these cheeks, that countenance, to stain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most futile! Dost attempt our Phœbus' face?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in our Phœbe her own spots canst trace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His self-asserting face disdains disease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid its own rays it sits, O well at ease.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure God and heaven and holiest star are here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure 'neath these cheeks smiles Phœbus full and clear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our King being safe in face, but touch'd elsewhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proves he was here a god, though a man there. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="IN_SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE" id="IN_SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE"></a>IN SERENISSIMAE REGINAE</h3> + +<p class="center">PARTUM HIEMALEM.<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non præbeat hortus?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">339</a></span> +<span class="i0">Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Maria, ô divum soboles, genitrixque deorum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumae<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inque uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit nobis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Has per te roseas saepe videre nives.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">340</a></span> +<span class="i0">Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tempus et in titulos transeat omne tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroque:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bona sors anni, cum cuncti ex ordine menses<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN +WINTER.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,—snow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter upon our shores, and snow? the thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">341</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beatings of wild December, Spring is here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreads forth, what clusters on her boughs incline?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, when like this was Winter ever seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offspring of gods, and mother! do we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seasons thus a plaything made for thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do the lilies by thy grace alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring up, and know no snows except their own?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spite of all that Winter may oppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O thou most blest disturber of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We pray thee, thus to force our calendar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thy fair violence; continue still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The months to number at thine own sweet will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make all things subject to thy royal womb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, by thy grace, may it be often ours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see dethronèd Winter deck'd in flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">342</a></span> +<span class="i0">Let others by the stars compute their year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And count their days as wandering signs appear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With cruel change our seasons dare deform;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O spend it all i' those rich births of thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the whole year shall own thy womb to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merge all its titles. Where's the month could bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A more delicious name, or ever wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More whiteness? Janus, for his double crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Covets this laurel; Maius for his own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take their empire. O blest year, how bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Mary or from Charles its mighty name! <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="AD_REGINAM_1" id="AD_REGINAM_1"></a>AD REGINAM</h3> + +<p class="center">ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Huc ô sacris circumflua coetibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huc ô frequentem, Musa, choris pedem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fer, annuo doctum labore<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Purpureas agitare cunas.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">343</a></span> +<span class="i0">Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maria partu nobilis altero,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prolemque Musarum ministram<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Egregius sibi poscit infans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sibive soli facta puerpera est:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Partu repercusso, vel absens,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Perpetuos procreat gemellos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae spiritum vitamque donat<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Principibus simul et Camaenis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Possit Camaenas, non sine numine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lassare nostras diva puerpera,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et gaudiis siccare totam<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Perpetuis Heliconis undam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quin experiri pergat, et in vices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Certare sanctis conditionibus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!—vices.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">344</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO THE QUEEN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hither, Muse, and bring again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy august surrounding train;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With measur'd tread of practis'd feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the voice of loyal cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A princely cradle year by year.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, our noble Queen on thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls in fruitful rivalry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By another birth; and he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illustrious infant, needs must have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muses' offspring for his slave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never has she yet been known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mother for herself alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by a reflected might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even in absence doth delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In twins ever, and while she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus augments her progeny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gives vigour to the lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She doth at once with life inspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young princes, and the Muses' quire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These, though not untouch'd they be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sacred flame, may she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tire in her fruitful deity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with joys that theirs outrun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dry at last all Helicon!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">345</a></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her powers, she deigns by rule to move;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor an unbecoming stain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the dust that they must gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in such contest can but fight in vain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A better Nature, with a rule how rare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Day. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE_LIBRUM_SUUM" id="SERENISSIMAE_REGINAE_LIBRUM_SUUM"></a>SERENISSIMAE REGINAE LIBRUM SUUM</h3> + +<p class="center">COMMENDAT ACADEMIA.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hunc quoque materna, nimium nisi magna rogamus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut aviae saltem sume, Maria, manu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Est Musa de matre recens rubicundulus infans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cui pater est partus—quis putet?—ille tuus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Usque adeo impatiens amor est in virgine Musa:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam nunc ex illo non negat esse parens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De nato quot habes olim sperare nepotes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Qui simul et pater est, et facit esse patrem!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">346</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO HER MOST SERENE MAJESTY</p> + +<p class="center">THE UNIVERSITY COMMENDS ITS BOOK.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deign, Queen, to this, unless we ask too much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mother's, or at least grandmother's, touch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the Muse's rosy infant fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its father—who would think?—this Child of thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So unrestrain'd the love of virgin Muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be a mother thus she can't refuse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From <i>him</i> what grandsons round thee soon will gather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who at once father is, and makes a father! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="PRINCIPI_RECENS_NATAE" id="PRINCIPI_RECENS_NATAE"></a>PRINCIPI RECENS NATAE</h3> + +<p class="center">OMEN MATERNAE INDOLIS.<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cresce, ô dulcibus imputanda divis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O cresce, et propera, puella princeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In matris propera venire partes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et cum par breve fulminum minorum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illinc Carolus, et Jacobus inde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In patris faciles subire famam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ducent fata furoribus decoris;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum terror sacer Anglicique magnum<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">347</a></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur nominis increpabit omnem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Late Bosporon Ottomanicasque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Non picto quatiet tremore Lunas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te tunc altera nec timenda paci<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poscent praelia; tu potens pudici<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vibratrix oculi, pios in hostes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Late dulcia fata dissipabis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O eum flos tener ille, qui recenti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pressus sidere jam sub ora ludit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Olim fortior omne cuspidatos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Evolvet latus aureum per ignes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quique imbellis adhuc, adultus olim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puris expatiabitur genarum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Campis imperiosior Cupido;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quam certa superbiore penna<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ibunt spicula melleaeque mortes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exultantibus hinc et inde turmis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoquo jusseris, impigre volabunt!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quot corda calentium deorum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De te vulnera delicata discent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quot pectora principum magistris<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fient molle negotium sagittis!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nam quae non poteris per arma ferri,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cui matris sinus atque utrumque sidus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magnorum patet officina amorum?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hinc sumas licet, ô puella princeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quantacunque opus est tibi pharetra.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Centum sume Cupidines ab uno<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">348</a></span> +<span class="i0">Matris lumine Gratiasque centum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et centum Veneres: adhuc manebunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Centum mille Cupidines; manebunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tercentum Veneresque Gratiaeque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puro fonte superstites per aevum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">OF THE PRINCESS MARY.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grow, maiden Princess, and increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who with the sweet goddesses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy place shalt have; O haste to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy mother's own epitome;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when that pair of minor flames,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy princely brothers Charles and James,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apt in the footsteps of their sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lead on the Fates in glorious ire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When o'er the Bosphorus shall creep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thrill of dread, as rolls full deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The murmur of the British name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with no feign'd alarm shall shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Turkish Crescent—other wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And such as bring sweet Peace no tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall call thee forth; and from on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flashing of thy modest eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall scatter o'er adoring foes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick volleys of delicious woes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, when that tender bloom which now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plays, lately born, beneath thy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">349</a></span> +<span class="i0">In time to come with mightier blaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall dart around its pointed rays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he, the Cupid now so mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer but a harmless child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall range in youth's imperious pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O then with what unerring skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many god-like breasts shall learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How often shall thy mastering darts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Work their sweet will on princely hearts!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what may she not do in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose mother's breast—with each bright star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rul'd her birth—to her but proves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A storehouse of all-conquering loves?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred Cupids be thy prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From one of thy bright mother's eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred graces add to these,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then a hundred Venuses:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred-thousand Cupids still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are hers; three hundred Graces will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Venuses in equal store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunt that pure fount for evermore. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">350</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN_NATALES_MARIAE_PRINCIPIS126" id="IN_NATALES_MARIAE_PRINCIPIS126"></a>IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS.<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Parce tuo jam, bruma ferox, ô parce furori,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pone animos; ô pacatae da spiritus aurae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet hoc decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attollit series, adeo commune serenum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luxurie, tanta ô circum cunabula surgat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">351</a></span> +<span class="i1">Quippe venit, sacris iterum vagitibus ingens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aula sonat, venit en roseo decus addita fratri<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blanda soror. Tibi se brevibus, tibi porrigit ulnis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magne puer, facili tibi torquet hiantia risu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ora; tibi molles lacrymas et nobile murmur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temperat, inque tuo ponit se pendula collo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tale decus juncto veluti sub stemmate cum quis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dat sociis lucere rosis sua lilia. Talis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fulget honos medio cum se duo sidera mundo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulcibus intexunt radiis: nec dignior olim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flagrabat nitidae felix consortio formae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc cum sidereos inter pulcherrima fratres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erubuit primum, et Laedaeo cortice rupto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tyndarida explicuit tenerae nova gaudia frontis.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sic socium ô miscete jubar, tu candide frater,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tuque serena soror. Sic ô date gaudia patri,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic matri cumque ille olim subeuntibus annis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ire inter proprios magna cervice triumphos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Egregius volet, atque sua se discere dextra;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te quoque tum pleno mulcebit sidere, et alto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flore tui dulcesque oculos maturior ignis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indole divina, et radiis intinget honoris.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc ô te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Esse suam Phoeben fulsus jurabit Apollo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc ô te quoties, nisi quod tu castior illa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Esse suam Venerem Mavors jurabit inanis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felix, ah, et cui se non Mars, non aureus ipse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Credet Apollo parem; tanta cui conjuge celsus<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">352</a></span> +<span class="i0">In pulchros properare sinus, et carpere sacras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delicias oculosque tuos, tua basia solus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tum poterit dixisse sua; et se nectare tanto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dum probat esse Deum, superas contemnere mensas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCESS MARY.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forbear thy fury, Winter fierce, forbear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay down thy wrath, and let the tranquil air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With inspiration mild soothe the stern year:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This time deserves it, and occasion dear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild North-wind may rage and wildly bluster;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gusty South its rainy clouds may muster;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet here at least, if thou but will it so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neither wild North nor gusty South will blow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For were it seemly, when events so bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exalt us, and the universal light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joy and vernal pleasure thrills the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim lines of battling tempest-clouds should roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the air, and drown the year with rain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better old Winter should bright youth regain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn at once to Spring; with tumult sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hasten his purple stores, and joyful greet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all his outpour'd heart this shining Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid its fragrant hours for ever stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making a radiant wealth of flowers abound<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">353</a></span> +<span class="i0">Where in her cradle that sweet Child is found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her tender limbs caress and softly compass round.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She comes! Once more are heard those blessèd cries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the palace. See a glory rise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A star-like glory added to the other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A charming sister to a rosy brother!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this she stretches out her tiny arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Boy—for thee displays the winsome charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her sweet smiles, and checks her gentle tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And coos and prattles to delight thine ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fondly hangs upon thy neck. Such grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleases the eye, when, their stalks joined, you place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilies with roses to combine their splendour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then appears such lustrous glory tender,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in the midst of heaven, at dewy eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two stars their gentle radiance interweave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor loftier grace that beauteous union show'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from her egg the fairest Helen glow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betwixt her starry brothers, and display'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her tender brow with new delights array'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So mix your common beam, thou brother fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sister mild. Such joys your father share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mother dear! And when, as seasons roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He moves with head erect and princely soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid his proper triumphs, and shall learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself by his own deeds, thou shalt discern<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A riper flame within thee, heavenly dower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And star full-orb'd shalt shine, and full-grown flower;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">354</a></span> +<span class="i0">While a soft beauty bathes thy lustrous eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rays of majesty the world surprise.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then O how oft, but that thou art more fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will some imaginary Phœbus swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou art his own Phœbe! or again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that thou art more chaste, some Mars in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will swear thou art his Venus, love's soft strain!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, happy he, to whom nor Mars will dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor golden Phœbus he can equal seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with a wife so sweet, so fair is blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the fond affection of thy breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tender, pure endearments; who alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can call thy eyes and kisses all his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while he quaffs such nectar'd wine of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feels like a god, and scorns the feasts above. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="AD_REGINAM_2" id="AD_REGINAM_2"></a>AD REGINAM.<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Et vero jam tempus erat tibi, maxima mater,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dulcibus his oculis accelerare diem:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempus erat, ne qua tibi basia blanda vacarent;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sarcina ne collo sit minus apta tuo.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">355</a></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet ille tuus, timor et spes ille suorum,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quo primum es felix pignore facta parens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille ferox iras jam nunc meditatur et enses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam patris magis est, jam magis ille suus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indolis ô stimulos; vix dum illi transiit infans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jamque sibi impatiens arripit ille virum.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improbus ille suis adeo negat ire sub annis:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam nondum puer est, major et est puero.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Si quis in aulaeis pictas animatus in iras<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stat leo, quem docta cuspide lusit acus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hostis, io, est; neque enim ille alium dignabitur hostem;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nempe decet tantas non minor ira manus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tunc hasta gravis adversum furit; hasta bacillum est;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mox falsum vero vulnere pectus hiat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stat leo, ceu stupeat tali bene fixus ab hoste,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ceu quid in his oculis vel timeat vel amet,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam torvum, tam dulce micant: nescire fatetur<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mars ne sub his oculis esset, an esset amor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quippe illic Mars est, sed qui bene possit amari;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Est et amor certe, sed metuendus amor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talis amor, talis Mars est ibi cernere; qualis<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seu puer hic esset, sive vir ille Deus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic tibi jam scitus succedit in oscula fratris;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Res, ecce, in lusus non operosa tuos.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Basia jam veniant tua quantacunque caterva;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jam quocunque tuus murmure ludat amor.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">En, tibi materies tenera et tractabilis hic est;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic ad blanditias est tibi cera satis.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">356</a></span> +<span class="i0">Salve infans, tot basiolis, molle argumentum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Maternis labiis dulce negotiolum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O salve; nam te nato, puer auree, natus<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Et Carolo et Mariae tertius est oculus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">TO THE QUEEN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas now the time for thee, Mother most great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these sweet eyes the day to accelerate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time thy soft kisses should not idle be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or from fit burden thy fair neck be free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he, his parents' fear and hope confest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whom thou first wast made a mother blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wraths and swords designs, courageous grown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now more his father's is, and more his own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O spurs of nature! yet an infant, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He catches at the man impatiently,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rogue declines to keep in his own years;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not yet a child, he more than child appears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on the tapestry, with feign'd anger fraught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lion stands, by skilful needle wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A foe behold; such foe to fight he deigns;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lesser wrath his mighty hand disdains.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce spear he brandishes; a wand his spear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon in false breast behold true wound appear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lion stands, maz'd by such enemy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearing or loving something in his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">357</a></span> +<span class="i0">So sternly, sweetly bright; nor can he tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether beneath that eye Mars or Love dwell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sooth, a Mars who may be lov'd is here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love indeed, but Love deserving fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such Love, such Mars, 'tis easy here to scan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This god or that, as he is boy or man.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy babe now comes to take the endearing place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A creature not beyond thy fond embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let thy troops of kisses have their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let thy love with brooding murmur play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is material tractable and tender,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which waxen surface to soft touch shall render.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail, infant! gentle subject for caresses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Employment sweet a mother's lips which blesses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O hail; for with thy birth, thou golden boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, to thy parents a third eye brings joy! <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="VOTIVA_DOMUS_PETRENSIS" id="VOTIVA_DOMUS_PETRENSIS"></a>VOTIVA DOMUS PETRENSIS</h3> + +<p class="center">PRO DOMO DEI.<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ut magis in mundi votis aviumque querelis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jam veniens solet esse dies, ubi cuspide prima<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Palpitat, et roseo lux praevia ludit ab ortu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cum nec abest Phoebus, nec Eois laetus habenis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Totus adest, volucrumque procul vaga murmura mulcet:<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">358</a></span> +<span class="i1">Nos ita; quos nuper radiis afflavit honestis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Relligiosa dies; nostrique per atria coeli—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacra domus nostrum est coelum—jam luce tenella<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Libat adhuc trepidae fax nondum firma diei:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos ita jam exercet nimii impatientia voti,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speque sui propiore premit.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Quis pectora tanti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tendit amor coepti, desiderio quam longo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lentae spes inhiant, domus o dulcissima rerum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plena Deo domus! Ah, quis erit, quis, dicimus, ille—<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O bonus, ô ingens meritis, ô proximus ipsi,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quem vocat in sua dona, Deo—quo vindice totas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excutiant tenebras haec sancta crepuscula?<br /></span> +<span class="i16">Quando,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quando erit, ut tremulae flos heu tener ille diei,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qui velut ex oriente suo jam altaria circum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lambit, et ambiguo nobis procul anuit astro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plenis se pandat foliis, et lampade tota<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laetus, ut e medio cum sol micat aureus axe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attonitam penetrare domum bene possit adulto<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sidere, nec dubio pia moenia mulceat ore?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quando erit, ut convexa suo quoque pulchra sereno<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Florescant, roseoque tremant laquearia risu?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae nimium informis tanquam sibi conscia frontis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perpetuis jam se lustrant lacrymantia guttis?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quando erit, ut claris meliori luce fenestris<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plurima per vitreos vivat pia pagina vultus?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quando erit, ut sacrum nobis celebrantibus hymnum<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">359</a></span> +<span class="i0">Organicos facili et nunquam fallente susurro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobile murmur agat nervos; pulmonis iniqui<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fistula nec monitus faciat malefida sinistros?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Denique, quicquid id est quod res hic sacra requirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fausta illa et felix—sitque ô tua—dextra, suam cui<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Debeat haec Aurora diem. Tibi supplicat ipsa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ipsa tibi facit ara preces. Tu jam illius audi,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Audiet illa tuas. Dubium est, modo porrige dextram,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Des magis, an capias: audi tantum esse beatus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et damnum hoc lucrare tibi.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Scis ipse volucres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quae rota volvat opes; has ergo, hic fige perennis<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fundamenta Domus Petrensi in rupe, suamque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortunae sic deme rotam. Scis ipse procaces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divitias quam prona vagos vehat ala per Euros;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divitiis illas, age, deme volucribus alas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Facque suus nostras illis sit nidus ad aras:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remigii ut tandem pennas melioris adeptae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Se rapiant, dominumque suum super aethera secum.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Felix ô qui sic potuit bene providus uti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortunae pennis et opum levitate suarum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divitiisque suis aquilae sic addidit alas.<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">THE PRAYER OF PETERHOUSE FOR THE HOUSE +OF GOD [=<span class="smcap">ITS CHAPEL</span>].</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As bids the Day a keener longing stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waking world, and warblings cheerier<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">360</a></span> +<span class="i0">To birds inspires, when comes she o'er the hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As quivering dart the streaks of Morn, and thrills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through lattic'd sky from roseate East the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Presaging his approach; nor absent quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor glorying in his slacken'd reins, the Sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is present all; and birds, to music won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By gentle touch, are murmuring far and near,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So we, on whom with radiance severe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solemn day begins to dawn; whose eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now sees glide through the heavenly courts which lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With portals wide—God's house is heaven, we say—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flame unsteady of still wavering Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slenderly stealing in; the prospect nigher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hearts too labour with extreme desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And throb with hopes impatient of their end.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How love of such a work our heart doth rend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How long desire makes hopes in leash restrain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pant! O sweetest House, on which has rain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torrent of God's fulness. Ah, who is he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, who—O good, O huge in charity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O nigh to God Himself,—Whom to descend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On His own gracious gifts he prays—shall lend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This sacred twilight power to drive away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All gloom, and shake her raiment into day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, when, thou pitifully trem'lous bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of glimmering Day, that as from bridal room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the Orient cam'st to kiss our altar-stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beckonest to us from a star alone,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">361</a></span> +<span class="i0">In yonder distance shining doubtfully,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, when wilt thou expand to Day, and, free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In conscious joy of thy full splendour, pour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flood of light, as when the Sun doth soar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In golden mid-day, and, to full age grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine through and through the pile, and make it own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With awe thy sway, nor let the sacred walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubt thy embrace?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Blest he to whom befalls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the vaulted roofs span their fair sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And break in flowers, while fretted ceilings lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling with rosy laughter; which do now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As wearing of their shame a conscious brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bedew their formless face with dropping tear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When shall it be? the window growing clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With better light, that many a page devout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May live, and life from glassy face breathe out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, when, as hymn of praise we celebrate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall solemn-breathing murmur make vibrate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The organ's nerves with graceful ceaseless hum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor pipe of lung unjust intruding come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each harsh, uncertain note for ever dumb?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whatever else, in fine, this Sanctuary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May need, that right-hand bless'd and happy be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be it thine! to which the Dawn shall owe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its day. The altar kneels to thee. Do thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">List to her prayer, and she will thine allow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch out thy laden hand, and doubtful live<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">362</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whether thou dost not more receive than give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou art happy do thou only hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn thy loss to gain in yonder sphere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st what wheel makes riches fly away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These riches therefore here securely lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fountains of a House perennial,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the Petrensian rock; from Fortune shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own wheel thus be wrench'd. Thou knowest how prone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wing bears up unconstant riches, blown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On vagrant, veering winds. Come, take away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These wings from fleeting riches, make them stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At these our altars, and build here their nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till arm'd with wings to better flight redress'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They may transport themselves to the home of rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bearing their master with them.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Blest that man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knowing prudently the times to scan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The airiness of wealth to profit brings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And him on Fortune's pinions deftly flings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to his riches adds an eagle's wings. <span class="source">S.S.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">363</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN_CAETERORUM_OPERUM" id="IN_CAETERORUM_OPERUM"></a>IN CAETERORUM OPERUM</h2> + +<p class="center">DIFFICILI PARTURITIONE GEMITUS.<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O felix nimis illa, et nostrae nobile nomen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invidiae volucris, facili quae funere surgens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mater odora sui, nitidae nova fila juventae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et festinatos peragit sibi fata per ignes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illa, haud natales tot tardis mensibus horas<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tam miseris tenuata moris, saltu velut uno<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In nova secla rapit sese, et caput omne decoras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explicat in frondes, roseoque repullulat ortu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cinnameos simul illa rogos conscenderit, omnem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laeta bibit Phoebum, et jam jam victricibus alis<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plaudit humum cineresque suos.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Heu, dispare fato<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos ferimur; seniorque suo sub Apolline phoenix<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Petrensis mater, dubias librata per auras<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pendet adhuc, quaeritque sinum in quo ponat inertes<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exuvias, spoliisque suae reparata senectae<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ore pari surgat, similique per omnia vultu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At nunc heu nixu secli melioris in ipso<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deliquium patitur!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At nunc heu lentae longo in molimine vitae<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">364</a></span> +<span class="i0">Interea moritur! Dubio stant moenia vultu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parte sui pulchra, et fratres in foedera muros<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invitant frustra, nec respondentia saxis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saxa suis; moerent opera intermissa, manusque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Implorant.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i10">Succurre piae, succurre parenti,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O quisquis pius es. Illi succurre parenti,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quam sibi tot sanctae matres habuere parentem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quisquis es, ô tibi, crede, tibi tot hiantia ruptis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moenibus ora loqui. Matrem tibi, crede verendam<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muros tam longo laceros senioque situque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ceu canos monstrare suos. Succurre roganti.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per tibi plena olim, per jam sibi sicca precatur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ubera, ne desis senio. Sic longa juventus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te foveat, querulae nunquam cessura senectae.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>A GROAN</big></p> + +<p class="center">ON OCCASION OF THE DIFFICULT PARTURITION OF THE REMAINING +WORKS OF PETERHOUSE.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O bird too fortunate, whose glorious name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fills us with envy of her happy fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which by an easy death on soaring wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet mother of herself, doth upwards spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assumes afresh her shining youth's attire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wins new lease of life through hasten'd fire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She—not through slow-revolving natal days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a thin shadow worn by sad delays—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">365</a></span> +<span class="i0">Transports herself into another round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of centuries, as by a single bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With beauteous leaves her head she covers o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a rosy birth shoots forth once more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as she climbs the spicy funeral pyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyful she drinks the sun, and mounting higher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, now the ground her wings victorious strike,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her own ashes.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But, alas, we follow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No such example. 'Neath her own Apollo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Mother Peterhouse, now ancient grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our agèd Phœnix, hither, thither blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And balancing herself on doubtful air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hovers with wing uncertain, seeking where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her relics she may lay, worn out with toils,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in a nest, and from the very spoils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her own age renew'd, she may arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In perfect comeliness of face and eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in the days of old, to mount the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But now, alas, e'en in the very throes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her reviving age our Phœnix knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And keenly feels a sad deficiency.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, in life's long lingering effort she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now in the mean while dies. Of doubtful face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her buildings seem in part bedeck'd with grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But elsewhere, heedless of inviting calls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To union, stand the unfinish'd brother walls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On unresponsive ears the summons falls;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">366</a></span> +<span class="i0">As stones to fellow-stones appealing turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The interrupted works together mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beg a helping hand. O, succour bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er is pious, to the parent wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shelter'd thee beneath its holy shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave so many mother churches<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> aid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parental; O, be now thy help display'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er thou art, the ruin'd courts to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gaping mouths are speaking audibly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy reverend mother would thine eyes engage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To view thy walls, dismantled long with age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And base neglect, and ponder her gray hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the full breasts which once she offer'd thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the dry breasts which she is doom'd to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now for herself, she cries imploringly:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'My age to help, O fail not to appear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So may long-lasting youth thy bosom cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth which complaining age shall never fear.' <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION (<i>more freely</i>).</p> + +<p class="center"><big>A LAMENT</big></p> + +<p class="center">OVER THE SLOW RESTORATION OF PETERHOUSE-COLLEGE BUILDINGS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Phœnix, all-too-happy bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who enviless thy fame has heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, thine own mother, from the pyre—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spices mix'd with flickering fire—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetly didst thy breath suspire;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">367</a></span> +<span class="i0">Then rose again, and thy age gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a swift resurrection—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone! by wondrous mystic skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wearing a richer plumage still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth renew'd from feet to bill,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst not linger in thine age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor a slow weary struggle wage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With changing cures and long delay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Searching for life in every way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; but a quick fate self-choosing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hindering self-ruth refusing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst raise thy funeral pyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst hovering i' the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From amidst the perfum'd flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring up, immortal as thy fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst lift thy comely head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'ry moulting feather shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst raise thy radiant breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blazing to the blazing West.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Phœnix, thou'rt an awful bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who enviless thy fame has heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climbing to thy funeral pyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climbing self-martyr'd to the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetly there to bear thine ire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fetching down from the great sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pilèd nest of cinnamon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rays intense; then upward winging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden from thine ashes springing;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">368</a></span> +<span class="i0">Victorious by this quaint mewing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life strangely out of death renewing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now i' the red fire consuming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next at the sun thine eyes reluming.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alas, how different is the fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this our later age, ingrate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her, my mother-college, lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All desolate and slowly dying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifting but a feeble wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though once, as Phœnix of the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springing immortal from its pyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Apollo and the Graces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reign'd where Ruin now defaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave her, when she shone in splendour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Orator, sage, and poet tender;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave her sons, noble and good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better than the bluest blood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how chang'd, since those days olden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as in the ages golden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I behold her, smitten, lorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by every Fury torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hanging in uncertain strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it were 'twixt death and life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubting whether e'en she shall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have so much as funeral;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her corpse laid in some quiet bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the sea-waves softly play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Willing they should take her bones—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">369</a></span> +<span class="i0">Her time-stain'd, rent, and shatter'd stones;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only thus but once again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebuilded, she might yet attain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To something of her old renown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By such resurrection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, phœnix-like, herself out-do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her best days when she was new.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ye sons, your mother own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her desolation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own her, though in aging years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shows few and thin gray hairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where once,—ah—in brave times of old—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd her proud locks with sheen of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, Peter nam'd, thou art denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus is thy name verified.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a spectacle for tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a spectacle for fears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a spectacle for wonder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a crime deserves the thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from base to gold-touch'd ceiling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day by day her halls are reeling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mullion'd window torn and rent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And destruction imminent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everywhere such gaping wounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a stranger e'en astounds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what was in faith begun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left in desolation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stone to stone in mute appealing,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">370</a></span> +<span class="i0">Cold neglect and scorn revealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the font of tears unsealing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons of my Mother-College lying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in ruins and slow dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ye have aught of piety<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or least touch of charity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on these broken walls, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your mother in her misery;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding up, in vain appealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wither'd hands, her woes revealing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the rank growths tangled there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See her dishonourèd gray hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Woe is me, her genial breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which so many sons has blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each all welcoming that came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drawn by her renownèd name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wither'd, shrunk, can quench no thirst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, my heart with grief will burst.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my dim eye there rises clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The full tide that once roll'd here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now shingle, sand, and fest'ring mud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell of the far-refluent flood.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O, pity her, ye sons, and vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more to crown your mother's brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more to rear her crumbling walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more to gather in her halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young, the brave, the true, the good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise, the noble; and the Rood<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">371</a></span> +<span class="i0">Over all shall bless and keep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So in old age ye shall not weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever shall your fair fame sleep. <span class="source">G.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="VENERABILI_VIRO_MAGISTRO_TOURNAY" id="VENERABILI_VIRO_MAGISTRO_TOURNAY"></a>VENERABILI VIRO MAGISTRO TOURNAY,</h3> + +<p class="center">TUTORI SUO SUMME OBSERVANDO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Messis inauravit Cereri jam quarta capillos,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vitis habet Bacchum quarta corona suae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nostra ex quo, primis plumae vix alba pruinis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ausa tuo Musa est nidificare sinu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic nemus, hic soles, et coelum mitius illi;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic sua quod Musis umbra vel aura dedit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sedit ibi secura malus quid moverit Auster,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae gravis hibernum vexerit ala Jovem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nescio quo interea multum tibi murmure nota est:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nempe sed hoc poteras murmur amare tamen.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tandem ecce, heu simili de prole puerpera! tandem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc tenero tenera est pignore facta parens.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jamque meam hanc sobolem, rogo, quis sinus alter haberet?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quis mihi tam noti nempe teporis erat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed quoque et ipsa meus, de te, meus, improba, tutor,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quam primum potuit dicere, dixit, erit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has ego legitimae, nec laevo sidere natae<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non puto degeneres indolis esse notas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nempe quod illa suo patri tam semper apertos,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">372</a></span> +<span class="i1">Tam semper faciles norit adire sinus.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo tuam tibi sume: tuas eat illa sub alas:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoc quoque de nostro, quod tuearis, habe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic quae Suada tuo fontem sibi fecit in ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sancto et securo melle perennis eat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic tua, sic nullas Siren non mulceat aures,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aula cui plausus et sua serta dedit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sic tuus ille, precor, Tagus aut eat obice nullo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aut omni, quod adhuc, obice major eat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>TO THE VENERABLE MAN MASTER TOURNAY,</big></p> + +<p class="center">MY TUTOR MOST REVERED.<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A fourth time now our glebe for Ceres bears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden locks of harvest; Bacchus wears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the fourth season his bright vine-leaf crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since, scant'ly hoar as yet with the soft down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her first plumage, in thy gentle breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My young Muse dar'd to build herself a nest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here found she sun and shade and gentler heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what with these is by the Muses given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were hers. Here sat she careless how the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might darken, or the blasts of winter rise;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">373</a></span> +<span class="i0">And here her voice reach'd thee, but by what move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fate I know not, only that thy love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her voice did win; and now at length behold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ah, how much the child her arms enfold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is like the mother!—she in tender years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The parent of a tender babe appears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lap, then, for this infant shall I find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fitter than thine, or known by me so kind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, soon as she could speak, the wanton, she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said, 'He shall be my guardian,' meaning thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no ill forecast I would deem is this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Genius true and favouring deities,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she so early should a sire divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Always so open, always so benign.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take, then, thine own—she is beneath thy wing—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of this gift accept the offering.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So may Persuasion, who her fount has made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon thy lips, still pour from thence unstay'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sacred honey; so be at the Court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereto with plausive wreaths she doth resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No ears thy Siren move not; so, I pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hindering bar thy Tagus strive to stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or only such as erst thy stream has swept away. <span class="smcap source">Cl.</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">374</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="ORNATISSIMO_VIRO_PRAECEPTORI_SUO" id="ORNATISSIMO_VIRO_PRAECEPTORI_SUO"></a>ORNATISSIMO VIRO PRAECEPTORI SUO</h2> + +<p class="center">COLENDISSIMO MAGISTRO BROOK.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mihi qui nunquam nomen non dulce fuisti,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tunc quoque cum domini fronte timendus eras;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille ego pars vestri quondam intactissima regni,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">De nullo virgae nota labore tuae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do tibi quod de te per secula longa queretur,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod de me nimium non metuendus eras:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod tibi turpis ego torpentis inertia sceptri<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tam ferulae tulerim mitia jura tuae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet in foliis quicquid peccabitur istis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quod tua virga statim vapulet, illud erit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo tibi haec poenas pro me mea pagina pendat.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hic agitur virgae res tibi multa tuae.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In me igitur quicquid nimis illa pepercerit olim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Id licet in foetu vindicet omne meo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic tuus inveniet satis in quo saeviat unguis,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quodque veru docto trans obeliscus eat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scilicet haec mea sunt; haec quas mala scilicet: ô si,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quae tua nempe forent, hic meliora forent!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qualiacunque, suum norunt haec flumina fontem—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nilus ab ignoto fonte superbus eat—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec certe nihil est qua quis sit origine. Fontes<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">375</a></span> +<span class="i1">Esse solent fluvii nomen honorque sui.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hic quoque tam parvus, de me mea secula dicant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Non parvi soboles hic quoque fontis erat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoc modo et ipse velis de me dixisse: Meorum<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ille fuit minimus—sed fuit ille meus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><big>TO THAT MOST CULTURED MAN,</big></p> + +<p class="center">HIS MOST ESTIMABLE TUTOR MASTER BROOK.<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O thou, whose name to me was still endear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en when the master's brow was justly fear'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, of thy realm the most inviolate part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By touch of thy birch-rod ne'er taught to smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give thee what through long years complains of thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou wast not enough a fear to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, base subject of thy sceptre slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy ferule's milder sway should only know.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sooth, in these leaves what faults soe'er thou see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy rod in every case should punish'd be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then let this page for me the suffering pay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here certainly thy rod may have full play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Howe'er that rod to me was once too mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It may revenge it all on this my child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here will thy nail discover where to rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scratch a learnèd blot across the page.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">376</a></span> +<span class="i0">These which are bad, forsooth, these things are mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would they were better, that they might be thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er they are, these streams their fountain know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nile from an unknown fount may proudly go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not lightly what one's source may be we deem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fountains give name and honour to their stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So small—my times perhaps may say of me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An offspring of no fountain small was he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to say of me may it be thine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'He was my least indeed—but he was mine!' <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="IN_REV_DRE_BROOKE_EPITAPHIUM" id="IN_REV_DRE_BROOKE_EPITAPHIUM"></a>IN REV. DRE. BROOKE EPITAPHIUM.<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Posuit sub ista, non gravi, caput terra<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille, ipsa quem mors arrogare vix ausa<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didicit vereri, plurimumque suspenso<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dubitavit ictu, lucidos procul vultus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et sidus oris acre procul prospectans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cui literarum fama cum dedit lumen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accepit, atque est ditior suis donis.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cujus serena gravitas faciles mores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muliere novit; cujus in senectute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Famaeque riguit, et juventa fortunae.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">377</a></span> +<span class="i0">Ita brevis aevi, ut nec videri festinus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ita longus, ut nec fessus. Et hunc mori credis?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">EPITAPH ON REV. DR. BROOK.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath this earth, strew'd lightly, lies the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one whom Death himself had learnt to dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce venturing to claim; and falter'd much<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere he allow'd his threatening stroke to touch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sacred presence. These bright eyes from far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He view'd; from far that face ray'd like a star.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On whom when fame of letters lustre drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took it as his right, and richer grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his own gifts to learning; whose serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Severity of manners seem'd to have been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temper'd by woman's softness; whose good name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In later as in early years the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood firm; his fortune equal to his fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His life so short, that not in haste he seem'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So long, that weary he might not be deem'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That such a one is dead, can it be dream'd? <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 119px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_l.png" width="119" height="141" alt="Decoration L" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">378</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"><a name="EPITAPHIUM_IN_GULIELMUM_HERRISIUM" id="EPITAPHIUM_IN_GULIELMUM_HERRISIUM"></a> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h3>EPITAPHIUM IN GULIELMUM HERRISIUM.<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Siste te paulum, viator, ubi longum sisti<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Necesse erit, huc nempe properare te scias quocunque properas.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Morae pretium erit<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Et lacrymae,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Si jacere hic scias<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Gulielmum<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Splendidae Herrisiorum familiae<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Splendorem maximum:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Quem cum talem vixisse intellexeris,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Et vixisse tantum;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Discas licet<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In quantas spes possit<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Assurgere mortalitas,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">De quantis cadere.<br /></span> + +<table style="margin: 0 10% 0 10%;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="in poem1"> +<tr><td align="right" rowspan="2" class="pad">Quem</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">Infantem </td><td align="left" class="pad">Essexia</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="2" class="pad">vidit.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">Juvenem</td><td align="left" class="pad">Cantabrigia</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +</table> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">379</a></span> +<span class="i6" style="clear:both;">Senem, ah infelix utraque<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Quod non vidit.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Qui<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Collegii Christi Alumnus<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Aulae Pembrokianae socius,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Utrique ingens amoris certamen fuit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Donec<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dulciss. lites elusit Deus,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Eumque coelestis collegii,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Cujus semper alumnus fuit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">socium fecit;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Qui et ipse collegium fuit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In quo<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Musae omnes et Gratiae,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Nullibi magis sorores,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sub praeside religione,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In tenacissimum sodalitium coaluere.<br /></span> + +<table style="margin: 0 10% 0 10%;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="in poem2"><tr> +<td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Quem</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">Oratoria</td><td align="left" class="pad">Oratorem</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">agnovere.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetica</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetam</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Utraque</td><td align="left" class="pad">Philosophum</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">Christianum </td><td align="left" class="pad">Omnes</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Qui</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">Fide</td><td align="left" class="pad">Mundum</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">superavit.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Spe</td><td align="left" class="pad">Coelum</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Charitate</td><td align="left" class="pad">Proximum</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">Humilitate</td><td align="left" class="pad">Seipsum</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +</table> + +<span class="i8" style="clear:both;">Cujus<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sub verna fronte senilis animus,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sub morum facilitate, severitas virtutis;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">380</a></span> +<span class="i6">Sub plurima indole, pauci anni;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sub majore modestia, maxima indoles<br /></span> +<span class="i8">adeo se occuluerunt<br /></span> +<span class="i10">ut vitam ejus<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pulchram dixeris et pudicam dissimulationem:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Imo vero et mortem,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ecce enim in ipso funere<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dissimulari se passus est,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sub tantillo marmore tantum hospitem,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Eo nimirum majore monumento quo minore tumulo.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Eo ipso die occubuit quo Ecclesia<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Anglicana ad vesperas legit,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Raptus est ne malitia mutaret intellectum ejus;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Scilicet Id. Octobris anno S. 1631.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<p class="center">EPITAPH FOR WILLIAM HARRIS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stay thee a short space here, good passer-by,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Upon thy way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein a little while thou too must lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Haste as thou may.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Certes thou knowest that thy life-long quest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leads hither—to the long, long sleep and rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grudge thee not, then, the tribute of a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst, ling'ring, to this stone thou drawest near.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It will reward thy stay,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">381</a></span> +<span class="i6">It will thy tears repay,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To know<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Below<br /></span> +<span class="i8">lies<br /></span> +<span class="i8">William,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of the family of Harris,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The most splendid name<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Where all have fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowing that such an one did live,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And how he liv'd—great, noble, wise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know how all mortal hopes are fugitive;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Height gauging depth with 'Here he lies.'<br /></span> + +<table style="margin: 0 10% 0 10%;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="in poem1"> +<tr><td align="right" rowspan="2" class="pad">Whom</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">As infant</td><td align="left" class="pad">Essex</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="2" class="pad">saw.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">As youth</td><td align="left" class="pad">Cambridge</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +</table> + +<span class="i0" style="clear:both;">Ah, miserable and lamenting both, that they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See not his golden locks in years grow gray!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He was<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A student of Christ College,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A fellow of Pembroke Hall:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To have him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The two Colleges did strive<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In rivalry of love:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the great God put in His negative,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Calling him Above,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To gain ampler knowledge<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In the Heavenly College,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of which he was on earth a student consecrate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, when Death summon'd him, he went elate.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">382</a></span> +<span class="i8">So wise his wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">By genius lit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In himself alone<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Many in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">You had a College, where<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Graces and Muses fair<br /></span> +<span class="i6">With Religion, you might see<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Twin'd hand in hand in amity.<br /></span> + +<table style="margin: 0 10% 0 10%;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="in poem2"><tr> +<td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Whom</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">Eloquence as an</td><td align="left" class="pad">Orator</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">owned.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetry as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poet</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">Each as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Philosopher</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">All as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Christian</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Who</td> +<td align="left">┌</td><td align="left" class="pad">By faith the</td><td align="left" class="pad">world</td><td align="left">┐</td> +<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">conquered.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">By hope</td><td align="left" class="pad">Heaven</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">│</td><td align="left" class="pad">By love his</td><td align="left" class="pad">fellow-men</td><td align="left">│</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">└</td><td align="left" class="pad">By himself</td><td align="left" class="pad">himself</td><td align="left">┘</td></tr> +</table> + +<span class="i8" style="clear:both;">Of whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ripen'd mind under a youthful face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Severest virtue under courtliest grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few years his, yet mellow'd as in age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A modesty that did all hearts engage:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These self-reveal'd and self-revealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all his life seem'd but a fine concealing.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yea, ev'n in his death 'twas so;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For being thus at length laid low,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He chose no boastful tomb to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How good the life that in him fell:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">383</a></span> +<span class="i4">By so much greater is the guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Smaller the mound where he doth rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yea, in his death there was diminution:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Great was the guest, but see how small the stone.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On that very day he died in which the<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Church of England reads its even-song:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was snatch'd away, lest the wickedness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">of the times should contaminate his understanding,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">viz. 15th October <span class="smcap">A.S.</span> 1631.<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="IN_EUNDEM_SCAZON" id="IN_EUNDEM_SCAZON"></a>IN EUNDEM SCAZON.<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Huc, hospes, oculos flecte, sed lacrimis caecos,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Legit optime haec, quem legere non sinit fletus.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ars nuper et natura, forma, virtusque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aemulatione fervidae, paciscuntur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Probare uno juvene quid queant omnes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fuere tantae terra nuper fuit liti,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ergo huc ab ipso Judicem manent coelo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">384</a></span></p> +<p class="center">TRANSLATION.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stranger, bend here thine eyes, but dim with tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom weeping blinds, best reader here appears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art, Nature, Beauty, Virtue, all agree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contending late with a warm rivalry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show what in one youth all join'd would be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So great the strife they caus'd on earth of late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That here from heaven itself the Judge they wait. <span class="smcap source">R. Wi.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="IN_PICTURAM_REVERENDISSIMI_EPISCOPI" id="IN_PICTURAM_REVERENDISSIMI_EPISCOPI"></a>IN PICTURAM REVERENDISSIMI EPISCOPI</h3> + +<p class="center">D. ANDREWS.<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haec charta monstrat, fama quem monstrat magis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sed et ipsa necdum fama quem monstrat satis;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ille, ille totam solus implevit tubam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tot ora solus domuit, et famam quoque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fecit modestam: mentis igneae pater<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Agilique radio lucis aeternae vigil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per alta rerum pondera indomito vagus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cucurrit animo, quippe naturam ferox<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exhausit ipsam mille foetus artibus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et mille linguis ipse se in gentes procul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Variavit omnes, fuitque toti simul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cognatus orbi, sic sacrum et solidum jubar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saturumque coelo pectus ad patrios libens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Porrexit ignes: hac eum, lector, vides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hac, ecce, charta ô utinam et audires quoque.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">385</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="p6"><a name="GLOSSARIAL_INDEX" id="GLOSSARIAL_INDEX"></a>GLOSSARIAL INDEX.</h2> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>As in the other Worthies, this Index is intended to guide to +Notes and Illustrations of the several words in the places; +but mainly in Vol. I., as Vol. II. consists wholly of the Latin +and Greek and their translations. <span class="source">G.</span></p> + + +<ul class="index"> + +<li class="ifrst">A.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_22">Acidalian, ii. 22.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_144">Adult'rous, ii. 144.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_181">Alas, i. 181.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_59">All-Hallow, ii. 59.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_59">All-mischiefe, ii. 59.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_32">Alps, ii. 32.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_90">Ambush, i. 90.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_269">Apricockes, i. 269.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_176">Archer [badly misprinted 'anchor'], i. 176.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_30">Assyrian, ii. 30.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">B.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_133">Baal-zebub, i. 133.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_26">Bilbilician, ii. 26.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_41">Black-fac'd, ii. 41.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_28">Blossome, i. 28,</a><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_207"> 207.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Bottles, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_35">Brag, ii. 35.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Breakfast, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Brisk, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_93">Bud, i. 93.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_245">Bulla, ii. 245, 251.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_72">Buried, ii. 72.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">C.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_17">Cadence, i. 17.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_16">Calls 't, i. 16.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xlviii">Canary scribblers, i. xlviii.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Case, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_184">Cast, ii. 184.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_43">Cast away, ii. 43.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_214">Ceaze, i. 214.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xv">Chaplaine [of Virgin], i. xv.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_267">Cherrimock, i. 267.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_28">Child, ii. 28-9.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_90">Clouds [mortal], i. 90.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_14">Crawles, i. 14.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Cruzzle, i. 15.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">D.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Deaw, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Deliquium, i. 89.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_140">Devil, speaking and dumbe, ii. 140.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_24">Divident, i. 24.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xvi">Doome, i. xvi.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">E.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Ease, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_13">Epigram, sacred, ii. 13.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">F.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_16">Faithful, i. 16.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_101">Fides, ii. 101.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_258">Flight, i. 258.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_175">Fly, i. 175.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_41">Food, ii. 41.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_41">Forlorne, ii. 41.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_133">Forswearing, i. 133.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_157">Fragrant, i. 157.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_118">Fries, i. 118.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_144">Frighted, ii. 144.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_137">Froward, ii. 137.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_53">Full-fac't, ii. 53.</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">386</a></span></li> + +<li class="ifrst">G.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_43">Gaie, ii. 43.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_41">Gloomy, ii. 41.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_16">Gold, i. 16.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_45">Golden, ii. 45.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_93">Groves, i. 93.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">H.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_36">Heaven-burthen'd, ii. 36.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Horn [guilded], i. 89.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_74">Husband-showrs, i. 74.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">I.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_239">Illustrious, i. 239.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Indifferent, i. 89.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_169">Ite, i. 169.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">K.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Kist, i. 89.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">L.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_78">Laces, i. 78.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_233">Large-look't, i. 233.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Least and last, i. 89.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_89">Legible, i. 89.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_46">Lightness, ii. 46.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_119">Lin'age, i. 119.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_69">Looke up, looke downe, ii. 69.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">M.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">May balsame, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Med'cinable, i. 15.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_16">Mint, i. 16.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">N.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_90">Negotiate, i. 90.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_78">Nest, i. 78.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_43">Nightening, i. 43.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15">Nuzzeld, i. 15.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">O.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_90">Oblique, i. 90.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_75">Officious, i. 75.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_46">One-mouth'd, ii. 46.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_24">One, owne, i. 24.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">P.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_17">Paire, i. 17.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xv">Paradise, bird of, i. xv.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_78">Paramours, i. 78.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_79">Pearle-tipt, ii. 79.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_54">Pharian, i. 54.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_118">Phosporos, i. 118.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_75">Points, i. 75.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_123">Posts, i. 123.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_12">Precocious, ii. 12.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_90">Price=prize, i. 90.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_16">Prouoke, i. 16.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_164">Purple, ii. 164.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_27">Pyx, ii. 27.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">R.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_253">Rampart, i. 253.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_144">Rape, ii. 144.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_68">Rub, i. 68.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">S.</li> + +<li class="indx">Sages [sue], i. 92-3.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_13">Sanite, i. 13.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_123">Score, ii. 123.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xlv">Seized, i. xlv.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_35">Send, ii. 35.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xlvi">Seven shares and a half, i. xlvi.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_91">Shadow ['brighter'], i. 91.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_49">Shipwrack, ii. 49.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_14">Silver-forded, footed, i. 14.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_144">Silver-tipt, ii. 144.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_17">Simpering, i. 17.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_xlvii">Sixpenny soule, suburb sinner, i. xlvii.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_18">Sluttish, i. 18.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_99">Staine, ii. 99.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_227">Steely, i. 227.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_240">Stooped, i. 240.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_140">Strings, i. 140.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_12">Subtracts, ii. 12.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_179">Sugar, i. 179.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_256">Sydnæan, i. 256.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">T.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_24">Then=than, i. 24, <i>et frequenter</i>.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_177">Thinne, i. 177.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_9">Threasure, i. 9.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_24">Tree=cross, i. 24,</a><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_46"> 46.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_123">Trims't, ii. 123.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_242">Twin'd, i. 242.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">U.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_242">Uncontrouled, i. 242.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_68">Unpearcht, i. 68.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_49">Unwounded, ii. 49.</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">387</a></span></li> + +<li class="ifrst">V.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_25">Veronian, ii. 25.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_5">Violls, i. 5.</a><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_15"> 15.</a></li> + + +<li class="ifrst">W.</li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_81">Washt, ii. 81.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_46">Wayd, i. 46.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_14">Wee, i. 14.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_149">White, i. 149;</a><a href="#Page_41"> ii. 41,</a><a href="#Page_165"> 165.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_28">Wine, i. 28.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38549/38549-h/38549-h.htm#Page_119">Worm, i. 119.</a></li> + +<li class="indx"><a href="#Page_137">Wrack, ii. 137.</a></li> +</ul> + + +<h3 class="p2"> +END OF VOL. II.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Finis.</h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"> +LONDON:<br /> +ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES"></a>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Crashaw's version is inadvertently inserted here instead of at p. 201. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> See p. 261 (ll. 13-14 of the Poem) for the subject of the above +vivid illustration of the captive Bird, by Mrs. Blackburn, as before, +specially for us (in 4to).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Not to be confounded with Handsworth in Staffordshire, or +Hensworth near Doncaster.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> In his Will (as before) he leaves 'to my aunt Rowthe my owne +works.' She was Dorothy, daughter of John Eyre, of Laughton, co. +York.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Mr. Hunter cannot have gone about his inquiries at Handsworth +with his usual persistence, for he says (as <i>supra</i>), 'I conjecture +that he may have been born about 1575, but I do not remember of +his baptism in my extracts from the Parish Register of Hansworth, +nor indeed any notice of the name of Crashaw,' &c. The Register, +as shown above, abounds in the name of Crashaw. For the 'conjecture' +of 1575 it is gratifying to be able to substitute the baptism-record +in 1572. Later, indeed, Mr. Hunter discovered his mistake. +It is not very creditable to the Rev. Dr. Gatty that in his edition of +Hunter's 'Hallamshire'—a district which includes Handsworth—he +has left the interesting facts laid to his hand unused. Surely it was +worth while to claim Crashaw as sprung of Handsworth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> I have very specially to thank Dr. Henry Hunter, of Taunton, +the Rector of Handsworth (Rev. John Hand, M.A.), and Mr. +Henry Cadman, of Ballifield Hall, for continued help in these local +searches and recoveries. Dugdale's 'Visitation of Yorkshire' (under +Strafford and Tickhill Wapentake) has other Crashaws.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> His Will, as before.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Communicated by W. Aldis Wright, Esq. M.A., as before. The +remainder of the note refers to after-matters not necessary to be recorded +here.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Communicated to me by Professor Mayor, of Cambridge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> On Alvey, see Brook's Puritans, ii. 85-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> From the 'Honovr of Vertve' we also learn that Usher had +baptised our Richard; another very interesting fact. We give the +opening words, after the monumental inscription: 'The Funerall +Sermon was made by Doctor Vsher of Ireland, then in England, +and now Lord Bishop of Meath, in Ireland. It was her owne earnest +request to him, that he would preach at the baptisme of her sonne, +as he had eight yeares afore, being then also in England, at the baptisme +<i>of her husband's elder sonne</i>. Now because it proued to be both +the baptisme of the sonne and buriall of the mother, as she often +said it would, he therefore spake out of this text, 1 Sam. iv. 2.' It will +be noticed that 'eight years' from 1620 take us back to 1612-13, our +Crashaw's birth-year. I add farther this on Mrs. Crashaw: 'Being +yong, faire, comely, brought vp as a gentlewoman, in musick, dancing, +and like to be of great estate, and therefore much sought after +by yong gallants and rich heires, and good joinctures offered, yet +she chose a Divine twise her owne age.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The longest poem is anonymous. It commences with a curious +enumeration of popular 'omens' supposed to precede death or misfortune. +The lines onward put some of the sweet commonplaces of our +Literature very well: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Her time was short, the longer is her rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God takes them soonest whom He loveth best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he that's borne to-day and dyes to-morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looseth some dayes of ioy, but yeares of sorrow.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +A fragment of it is in the Dr. Farmer Chetham <span class="smcap">MS.</span> (as edited by us).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The title-page of the 'Iesvites' Gospell,' is extremely disingenuous, +as there is no hint whatever of a prior publication, and the wording +indeed is such as to make it seem that the Author, though dead +well-nigh a quarter of a century at the time, was still living; for it +thus runs: 'By W.C. And now presented to the Honourable the +House of Commons in Parliament Assembled' (1641). Crashaw +senior was Ultra-Protestant, but he is made insulting and offensive +beyond his intention, as his own title-pages show. Any title-page +after 1626 was not his.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Robert Dixon, gent., proved the Will on 16th October 1626, and +power was reserved for farther proof by Richard Crashaw, who, as +under age, could not then act. Except that young Richard is named +executor, there is no special provision made for him; and we must +assume that as only son and child he necessarily inherited his portion +over and above the (considerable) legacies. It was no uncommon +thing at the period to name one young as Master Richard an executor; +there are instances even of an unborn child being nominated.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Yet is it notable that the elder Crashaw instituted 'a daily +Morning Exercise'—reckoned High-churchly then and since. The +'Honour of Vertue' records that 'many hundred poore soules' had +to bless God for the 'Exercise.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Thomas Baker's note in W. Crashaw's 'Romish Forgeries' (as +partly quoted before) is utterly mistaken and misdirectedly strong: +'Erat ille [the elder Crashaw] acerrimus Propugnator Religionis +Reformatæ, quam Filius ejus Ric. Crashaw, injuriis vexatus, pressus +inopia, Patria extorris, et complexu Matris Ecclesiæ avulsus, abjuravit.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> The passage occurs in his Sermon before 'Lord Lawarre' on +setting out for Virginia (see its title-page <i>ante</i>). After disposing +of (1) the divels, (2) the Papists, he comes, as follows, to (3) the +Plaiers. 'As for the Plaiers: (pardon me, right honourable and +beloued, for wronging this place and your patience with so base a +subject), they play with Princes and Potentates, Magistrates and +Ministers, nay with God and Religion and all holy things: nothing +that is good, excellent, or holy can escape them: how then can this +action? But this may suffice, that they are Players: they abuse +Virginia, but they are Players: they disgrace it; true, but they are +but Players, and they haue played with better things, and such as +for which, if they speedily repent not, I dare say, vengeance waites +for them. But let them play on; they make men laugh on earth, +but "Hee that sits in heaven laughes them to scorne;" because like +the flie, they so long play with the candle, till first it singe their +wings, and at last burnes them altogether. But why are the Players +enemies to this Plantation and doe abuse it? I will tell you the +causes. First, for that they are so multiplied here, that one cannot +liue by another, and they see that wee send of all trades to Virginia, +but wee send no Players, which if wee would doe, they that remaine +would gaine the more at home. Secondly, as the diuell hates vs +because wee purpose not to suffer Heathens, and the Pope because +wee have vowed to tolerate no Papists, so doe the Players, because +wee resolue to suffer no idle persons in Virginia; which course, if it +were taken in England, they know they might turne to new occupations' +[sheet H 3, unpaged]. The 'Talk' in Selden's 'Table-Talk' +is as follows: 'I never converted but two; the one was Mr. Crashaw, +from writing against Plays, by telling him a way how to understand +that place [of putting on women's apparel], which has nothing to do +in the business [as neither has it]—that the Fathers speak against +Plays in their time with reason enough, for they had real idolatries +mixed with their Plays, having three altars perpetually upon the +stage' ('Poetry,' § 3). In confirmation farther of our correction of +a long-continued error, I find the elder Crashaw in another of his sermons +touching incidentally on the very point of 'women's apparel,' +as follows: 'The ungodly playes and enterludes so rife in this nation: +what are they but a bastard of Babylon, a daughter of error +and confusion, a hellish device (the divel's own recreation to mock +at holy things), by him delivered to the heathen, from them to the +Papists, and from them to us?... They know all this, <i>and that +God accounts it abomination for a man to put on woman's apparel</i>, +and that the ancient Fathers expounded that place against them' +(Sermon preached at the Crosse, Feb. 14, 1607 ... justified by the +Author ... 1609, 4to, p. 169). Probably the preacher intimated +his intention to pursue his condemnation farther, and so the great +Scholar put him right on the well-known text.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> See Professor Mayor's 'Nicholas Ferrar' (1855), pp. vi. vii. 330. +He has satisfied us that Crashaw was not the author of the Epitaph +on Nicholas Ferrar, as Sancroft supposed. See p. 144.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> His reading included Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, Spanish. +His 'exercises' were 'Poetry, Drawing, Limming, Graving' ('exercises +of his curious invention and sudden fancy'). See our vol. i. +p. xlvii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> 'Pope Alexander the Seventh and the College of Cardinals.' +By John Bargrave, D.D., Canon of Canterbury [1662-1680]. With +a Catalogue of Dr. Bargrave's Museum. Edited by J.C. Robertson, +M.A., Canon of Canterbury. Camden Society, 1867, 4to. Todd, in +his Milton (i. 250-1), first quoted the above from the <span class="smcap">MS.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Crashaw's name is duly entered in the list of Converts of the +1648-9 edition of Dr. Carier's 'Missive to his Majesty of Great Britain +... containing the Motives of his Conversion to Catholike +Religion'—thus: 'Mr. Richard Crashaw, Master of Arts of Peterhouse, +Cambridge, now Secretary to a Cardinall in Rome, well known +in England for his excellent and ingenious Poems.' The Countess +of Denbigh is also in the list.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> In its place (vol. i. p. 234) an Epitaph is headed 'Vpon Doctor +Brooke.' This may possibly have been Brook of the Charterhouse; +but I had thought it the brother of Christopher Brook (or Brooke)—Dr. +Samuel Brooke, the associate of Dr. Donne, and author of a +dainty little poem on 'Tears.' I am not aware that the Master of +the Charterhouse was 'Doctor.' But his name is spelled Brooks in +'Domus Carthusiana,' p. 139. With reference to 'Priscianus' +and 'Stomachus' and 'Hymn to Venus,' &c., two things are noticeable: +(1) that earlier Crashaw was of the 'earth earthy,' as +much as any of his contemporary poets;—his 'Royal' and other +early poetry (as above) is heathenish almost—in strange and suggestive +contrast with his later, when every atom of him was religious: +(2) that he was not without humour or power of satire. It +is a man's loss to be without humour—he has a poorer nature if he +be without it; and for myself, I relish the human-ness of some of +Crashaw's earlier Verse, as distinguished from his after intensely-unearthly +spiritual Poetry.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> The following entry from the Admission-Book of Pembroke +College refers to Crashaw's Tournay: 'Mar. 1, 1620. Joannes Turney, +Cantianus, annos habens [blank] admissus est sizator sub custodia +Mri Duncon.' In another account of the Fellows of Pembroke +by Attwood in continuation of Bishop Wren is this: 'Joannes +Tourney, Cantianus, scholaris Collegii Mro Vaughan [<i>i.e.</i> 20 Oct. +1627] titulum obtinet eodem anno. An. 1632 Prædicator Academiæ. +An. 1634, Thesaurarius Junior et S. Theologiæ Baccalaureus. Thesaurarius +Senior an. 1635, et Attornatus Collegii cum Mro Vaughan +in negotiis collegium quocunque modo spectantibus.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> From the Admission-Book of Christ's College I get the following: +'Gulielmus Harris, Essexiensis, filius Gulielmi Equitis de Margret-Ing. +institutus in rudimentis grammaticis sub Mro Plumtræ +Scholæ publicæ de Brentwood Archididasculo, admissus Mar. 2, 1623, +ætatis 16, sub Mro Siddall.' The family of Harris, lords of the +manor of Shenfield in the parish of Margaret-Ing in Essex, occurs +in Morant's 'Essex.' Sir William Herrys married Frances Astley. +From Attwood (as before) I glean these farther entries: 'Gulielmus +Herrys, Essexiensis, Colegii Christi alumnus, Artium Baccalaureus; +electus et ille Jan. 8, an. 1630. An. 1631 incipit in Artibus. Monitor +autem illo anno, Oct. 15. Optimæ spei juvenis.' He may +have died of the plague (cf. Cooper's 'Annals of Cambridge,' iii. +243). (From Mr. Wright, as before.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Stanynough has also verses in the Univ. Collections of 1625 and +1633. He was buried in Queen's College Chapel, 5 March 1634-5 +(St. Bot. Regr.). I do not deem it necessary to record the college +entries concerning him, from his admission as pensioner, 30 April +1622, to 'leave to forbear to take orders,' Sept. 1631: renewed 22 +July 1633.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> The whole §, pp. 34-37, is full of anecdote and of rare interest, +and sorrowfully confirmatory of Crashaw's words.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> I find I cannot spare room for Cowley's own separate poem on +Hope. It is in all the editions of his Poems.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Bishop Laud, in his Defence, pleads that he had retained many +in the Church of England, and names the Duke of Buckingham, +spite of his mother's and sister's influence (Works, <i>s.n.</i>). Buckingham's +mother was a fervent Catholic, and here his 'sister,' <i>i.e.</i> Susan +first Countess of Denbigh, is placed with her as Roman Catholic. +Other references go to make the fact certain. I hope to be called on +hereafter to give details (as <i>supra</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The poems entitled 'Prayer: an Ode which was prefixed to a +little prayer-book given to a young gentlewoman,' and 'To the same +Party: covncel concerning her choise' (vol. i. pp. 128-137), have much +of the sentiment and turn of wording of the Verse-Letters to the +Countess of Denbigh; but I have failed to discover who is designated +by their 'M.R.' It is clear she was a 'gentle'-born Lady. 'Mrs.' +does not necessarily designate a married person. She may have been +a 'fair young Lady.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> The 'Epiphanie' has some of the grandest things of Crashaw, +and things so original in the thought and wording as not easily to be +paralleled in other Poets: <i>e.g.</i> '<i>Dread Sweet</i>' (l. 236), and the superb +'Something a <i>brighter shadow</i>, Sweet, of thee' (l. 250). The most +Crashaw-like of early 'Epiphany' or Christmas Hymns is that of +Bishop Jeremy Taylor, from which I take these lines: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Awake, my soul, and come away!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put on thy best array;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Least if thou longer stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou lose some minitts of so blest a day.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Goe run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid good-morrow to the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome his safe return<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Capricorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that great Morne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein a God was borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose story none can tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But He whose every word's a miracle.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="right"> +(Our ed. of Bp. Taylor's Poems, pp. 22-3.) +</p> +<p> +<i>En passant</i>, since our edition of Bishop Taylor's Poems was issued +we have discovered that a 'Christmas Anthem or Carol by T.P.,' +which appeared in James Clifford's 'Divine Services and Anthems' +(1663), is Bishop Taylor's Hymn. This we learn from 'The Musical +Times,' Feb. 1st, 1871, in a paper on Clifford's book. Criticising the +words as by an unknown T.P.—ignorant that he was really criticising +Bp. Jeremy Taylor—the (I suppose) learned Writer thus appreciatively +writes of the grand Hymn and these passionate yearning +words: 'Who, for instance, could seriously sing in church such stuff +as the following Christmas Anthem or Carol, by T.P.? which Mr. +William Childe (not yet made Doctor) had set to music.' Ahem! +And so on, in stone-eyed, stone-eared stupidity.—Of modern celebrations +I name as worthy of higher recognition than it has received +the following 'Hymn to the Week above every Week,' by Thomas +H. Gill; Lon., Mudie, 1844 (pp. 24). There is no little of the rich +quaint matter and manner of our elder Singers in this fine Poem.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Cf. vol. i. p. 143.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Like Macaulay in his History of England (1st edition), Dr. +Macdonald by an oversight speaks of Crashaw as 'expelled from +<i>Oxford</i>,' instead of Cambridge (cf. our vol. i. p. 32).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> The Letter of Pope to Mr. Henry Cromwell is in all the editions +of his Correspondence. Willmott (as before) also gives it <i>in +extenso</i>. Of The Weeper Pope says: 'To confirm what I have said, +you need but look into his first poem of The Weeper, where the 2d, +4th, 6th, 14th, 21st stanzas are as sublimely dull as the 7th, 8th, 9th, +16th, 17th, 20th, and 23d stanzas of the same copy are soft and +pleasing. And if these last want anything, it is an easier and more +unaffected expression. The remaining thoughts in that poem might +have been spared, being either but repetitions, or very trivial and mean. +And by this example one may guess at all the rest to be like this; a +mixture of tender gentle thoughts and suitable expressions, of forced +and inextricable conceits, and of needless fillers-up of the rest,' &c. &c. +'Sweet' is the loftiest epithet Pope uses for Crashaw, and that in the +knowledge of the 'Suspicion of Herod.' In The Weeper he passes +some of the very finest things. In his Abelard and Eloisa he incorporates +felicities from Crashaw's 'Alexias' within inverted commas; +but elsewhere is not very careful to mark indebtedness.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> He also quotes, as complete in themselves and 'best alone,' +these two lines from No. <span class="smcap">LI.</span>: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twas once <i>look up</i>, 'tis now look down to heaven.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Dr. Robert Wilde in his Epitaph upon E.T. has the same idea, and +puts it quaintly: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Reader, didst thou but know what sacred dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou tread'st upon, thou'dst judge thyself unjust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouldst thou neglect a shower of tears to pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wash the sin of thy own feet away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That actor in the play, who, looking down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he should cry 'O heaven!' was thought a clown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guilty of a solecism, might have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Applause for such an action o'er this grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here lies a piece of Heaven; and Heaven one day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will send the best in heaven to fetch't away.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="right"> +(Hunt's edition, p. 30.) +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> The 'conceit' is found in Vida's Christiad, lib. ii. 431, iii. 984: +also in a Hymn of St. Ambrose. Cf. too Psalm lxvii. 16. Victor +Hugo has adapted it as follows: 'Here is a whimsical explanation +of the miracle of the wedding at Cana in Galilee: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">La nymphe de ces eaux aperçut Jésus-Christ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et son pudique front de rougeur se couvrit.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nymph of these waters perceived Jesus Christ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her modest brow was dyed with shame.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +(Victor Hugo: a Life, 1863, i. 269). Whence the brilliant Frenchman +fetched his 'whimsical explanation' is not doubtful. In the +last line of Crashaw's epigram the reading in Poemata Anglorum +Latina is +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Vidit et erubuit nympha pudica Deum.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +'Lympha' is inferior, and a (mis)reading for 'nympha.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> From <i>Prolusiones</i> of Strada.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Gifford here has one of his many singular notes, because he +could think of no other meaning than 'merriment' for 'mirth,' which, +as 'joy' or 'gladness,' is quite in place, and indeed accurately descriptive +of the combined gladness and sadness of the pathetic contest.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Professor M'Carthy, who finds the influence of Crashaw in +Shelley, has suggested one line from the 'Suspicion' as a motto for +Hood's 'Song of the Shirt,' viz. in st. xliii. +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="right"> +(N. and Q. 2d S. v. 449-52.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> I place here a copy of the document that had gone astray (Vol. I. +p. xxxv.): 'It results from a Papal Bull dated 24th April 1649, that +Richard Crashaw, an Englishman, was admitted to a benefice ('Beneficiato') +of the Basilica-Church of our Lady of Loreto, through strong +interest in his favour by Cardinal Pallotta, then Protector of the so-called +Holy House of Loreto, and in whose service Richard Crashaw +was. But as it appears from another Bull dated 25th August 1649, +that a successor was named to Richard Crashaw, it is evident that +he was a Beneficiary in Loreto for only about three months—too +short a time to furnish sufficient materials for the illustration of his +biography.—N.B. A Beneficiary in ecclesiastical hierarchy is a grade +under a Canon, and his duty in church is more assiduous than that +of the Canon; but it is not necessary to be a Beneficiary before becoming +a Canon.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> See our Essay for notice of Lany. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> See our Essay in the present volume for notices of Lany. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Perhaps a virgin-priestess being dedicated is intended. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Balaami asinus. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> By a singular misprint Barksdale thus reads: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The thief which bless'd upon the Cross with Me,' &c. G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Barksdale thus renders the first couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Magdalen! thou prevent'st the morning light; =anticipatest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thy Sun was already in thy sight.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Phil. i. 23, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν ἔχων εἰς τὸ ἀναλύσαι</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'All things subside by their own weight: I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lightness only, Peter, makes thee sink.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Christi scilicet. C. [The reference is to a runaway slave, +whose punishment would be crucifixion. G.]</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'After so many miracles done well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He that believes not is a miracle.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Query: Is there a punning-play on Judas' 'All Hail' (<i>i.e.</i> +All Hallow) before the Betrayal? G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Cf. Crashaw's own hitherto unpublished poem, amplifying +the epigram, in 'Airelles,' vol. i. pp. 185-6. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thou receiv'st and receiv'st not Christ; for He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes not into thy house, but into thee.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, translates the last couplet thus: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Enough! I have seen, have seen my Saviour:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside Thee, Christ, I would see nothing more.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Joan. vii. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Cf. our vol. i. pp. 50-1. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> See vol. i. pp. 47-8, for Crashaw's own poem enlarging the +epigram. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'That Saul was blind, I will not say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure Saul was <i>captus lumine</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Ver. 24. Non enim mortua est puella, sed dormit. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> For Crashaw's own full rendering of this epigram, see our +vol. i. pp. 48-9. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Barksdale thus renders one couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'See, O my guests, a Deity is here:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chast nymph saw a God, and blusht for fear.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +For Dryden's and others, see our Essay in this volume. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'To see Christ was first in my desire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next, having seen Thee, forthwith to expire.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, inserts an anonymous epigram on +the same subject as <i>supra</i>, being the only one not by Crashaw +in the volume. It is as follows: '40. Mulier Canaanitis. Matt. +15. <i>Femina tam fortis, &c.</i> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O woman, how great is that faith of thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Fides</i> more than a grammar's feminine.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In another application, quaint old Dr. Worship, in his 'Earth +raining upon Heaven' (1614), in rebuking the unfeminine boldness +of the sex, says, 'Harke yee grammarians: <i>Hic mulier</i> +ere long will be good Latin' (pp. 5, 6). G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> For Crashaw's own rendering of this epigram or poem, +see our vol. i. pp. 50-1. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Cf. St. Matt. iv. 3. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Joan. xix. 41. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐν ᾧ οὐδέπω οὐδεὶς ἐτέθη</span> <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Ver. 2. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">σεισμὸς ἐγένετο μέγας.</span> <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Ver. 4. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">ἐσείσθησαν οἱ τηροῦντες, καὶ ἐγένοντο ὥσει νεκροί.</span> <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, renders the closing couplet thus: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Is He the Christ? And the inquiry is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Himself? Why, the dumb can answer this.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or—To the Jews it is not fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the name best tells Heav'n's ire. G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Most worthy nest this for the Bird above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most worthy of this nest is th' holy Dove.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'These loaves of Christ are well bestow'd: if fed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these, they hunger after living bread.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'By your opposing force, Greeks, what is meant?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you have no convincing argument.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, renders the opening couplet. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> = reckoning or debt to be paid. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> By an oversight Willmott renders <i>ora</i> 'regions' instead +of 'eyes.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Barksdale thus renders the second couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'This house a stable! No: Thy blessèd birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jesus, converts it to a heaven on earth.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'John is Christ's flame; Domitian, in thine ire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou e'er hope with oil to extinguish fire?' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Do, Dragon, do, thy snakes together call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That by Christ's virtue they may perish all.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Shine forth, my Sun: soon as Thy beams are felt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy gracious healing beams, my snow will melt.' G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Ver. 31. Sustulerunt lapides. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> ... Et continuo exivit sanguis et aqua. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Act. i. Nubes susceptum eum abstulit. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Crashaw must have stopped short in his Greek version of +the present and succeeding epigram. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Rev. i. 16. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Is the allusion to Peter's following 'afar off,' and after-denial +of the Lord? G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> The allusion in l. 5 is to wrestlers anointing themselves +to prevent their adversaries grasping them. <span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> See the above Epigram, with only a few verbal changes, +at pp. 160-1, with translation by Rev. Richard Wilton. I add +my own, as the inadvertent repetition was not observed until +too late. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> This was overlooked in its proper place as Crashaw's own +rendering of Epigram VI. p. 39. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> LVI. and LVII. from Tanner <span class="smcap">mss.</span>, as before. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> Ecclesia. <span class="smcap">Cr.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Cf. Wordsworth's 'A faculty for storms' ('Happy Warrior'). G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> <span class="smcap">ms.</span> has no stop here, and leaves a space nearly wide +enough for a line. Mr. Wilton has excellently supplied it. +Doubtless it was left blank by Sancroft in order to consult the +Text, or as unable to decipher the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> I have ventured to supply a connecting line in place of the +pentameter here dropt out; which might have been something +like this: +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Inque brevi vita splendida facta micent.' R. Wi.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> From 'The Recommendation' illustration in 'Carmen D. +nostro' (Paris, 1652). See vol. i. in 4to, p. 43. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> See Illustration (in 4to) by Mrs. Blackburn to ll. 13-14 as +vignette in Essay. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Query, in the heading (Latin), 'In Apolline<i>m</i>'? but +'Apolline<i>a</i>' is in all the texts. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> Appeared originally in 1648 edition (pp. 63-4), under the +title of 'Elegia.' It was subsequently headed 'In eundem,' following +the Epitaph-poem on Harris (see above). G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> In agro Sudovolgorum.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Nomen Elda (<i>Cancrorum idiomate</i>) [backwards].</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> Pretium annuum haud invidendum, <span class="smcap">XX</span><i>s.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Patibulo, quod tribus constat lignis, arrectariis binis, et trabe +transversa.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> Quattuor, quia equus quadrupes videbatur in eam sententiam +quasi pedibus ire.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Vulgo acquietantia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Organum est librite hydrobapticum ad omnium ripas situm, +linguæ fervore refrigerando.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> The Common Pleas in Westminster Hall.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> A writ.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> The return of the writ [the morrow of All Souls].</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> The plaintiff.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Stylus curiae. Si quis alicui in jurgio pilum imminuerit, prodit +tragica accusatio de insultu et vulnere, ita quod de ejus vita desperabatur. +O forensem exaggerationem!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> It is not easy to bring-out the play on <i>terga dabit</i>—'terga +dare' being equivalent to 'fugere'—and yet indicative of the +boy's punishment on the back of the whipping-horse.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Alluding to Pegasus, and the fountain caused by stroke +of hoof.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i., and our Essay in the +present Volume, for notices of Brooke. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> See notice of Dr. Mansell in note to the translation. The +present poem is printed by Mr. Searle in his 'History of the +Queen's College &c.' 1871, pp. 448-9. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> 'John Mansel or Mansell was of the county of Lincoln, +and was entered at the college (Queen's) as a sizar 29th March +1594, under Clement Smith, nephew of Sir Thomas Smith. He +was B.A. 1597-8, was made scholar in 1598, and elected fellow +of the college 31st June 1600. Romney and Bilsington, priories +in Kent, were founded in 1257 by John Maunsell, provost of +Beverley, treasurer of York, rector of Maidstone, Kent, and of +Wigan, Lancashire; he was also Chief-justice of England. "I +have seen a pedigree of the Mansels, from Philip de Mansel, +who came in with the Conqueror, untill our times. Of this +name and familie is that orthodoxall sound Divine and worthy +Master of Queen's Colledge in Cambridge, <i>John Mansel</i>, Doctor +of Divinitie, and a generall schollare in all good literature." +(Weever, <i>Fun. Mon.</i> 273-4.) He commenced M.A. in 1601, and +was B.D. in 1609. From the year 1604 to the year 1617 he +seems to have been in residence, as he held various college +offices and college lectureships in every year of that period. +He was senior bursar for the two years 1609-10 and 1610-11. +He was vicar of Hockington from 2d September 1614 to May +1616. He vacated his fellowship in the course of the year +1616-17, receiving his stipend for three and half weeks in the +third quarter, so that he ceased to be fellow towards the end of +July 1617. He became D.D. in 1622. He was elected president +[of Queen's College] 29th April 1622.... Dr. Mansel +died 7th October 1631.' (From Mr. Searle's 'History of the +Queen's College &c.,' as before, pp. 447-8.) Agreeably to the +heading, Dr. Samuel Brooke died September 1631 (<span class="smcap">MS.</span> Baker +xxvi. 167; Wood's Fasti (Bliss), pt. i. p. 400. Crashaw celebrated +Brooke, as did Dr. Donne. See English Poems in vol. i., +and Epitaphium onward. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> See notice of Heath in note to the translation. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> 'Lord' is titular, not of the peerage. Doubtless Crashaw +celebrates Sir Robert Heath, Kt., who was successively +Recorder of London, Solicitor-General, Attorney-General, and +finally, 26th October 1631, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas. +From this post he appears to have been dismissed three years +later; but in 1641 he was appointed a Judge of the King's +Bench, and in 1643 Chief-Justice of that court, when he would +be commonly called '<i>Lord</i> Chief-Justice of England.' Being a +Royalist, he fled into France in 1646, and died at Calais 30th +August 1649. His remains were brought to England and buried +at Brasted, Kent, in which church there is a fine monument. +His age was seventy-five. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> That is, from the Scotch trip of 1663. This appeared in +the University collection, 'Rex Redux' &c. (see Preface in present +Volume), 1633. Among other contributors were Edward +King ('Lycidas'), Thomas Randolph, Waller, and Henry More. +G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> The following is a note of Charles I.'s family: +</p> +<p> +Charles James, born May 13, 1628; died same day. +</p> +<p> +Charles, born May 29, 1630; afterwards Charles II. +</p> +<p> +Mary, born November 4, 1631; afterwards mother of William III. +</p> +<p> +James, born October 14, 1633; afterwards James II., probably +the unborn child of this poem. +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth, born December 28, 1635; died of grief for her father +5th September 1650 (see Vaughan's fine poem to her memory, +Works by us, <i>s.n.</i>). +</p> +<p> +Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; died December 8, 1640. +</p> +<p> +Henry, born July 8, 1640; afterwards Duke of Gloucester and +Earl of Cambridge. +</p> +<p> +Henrietta-Anne, born June 16, 1644. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> The King (Charles I.) had the small-pox in 1632. This +appeared originally in the University Collection on the occasion, +'Anthologia in Regis,' &c. (see Preface to present volume). +Henry More and Edward King ('Lycidas') contributed also. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> See note to preceding poem. From Voces Votivæ &c. (see +Preface to this volume). G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> From 'Delights of the Muses,' 1648, pp. 47-8; not in +Turnbull. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> Turnbull gives simply as the heading 'Natales Principis +Mariae.' The date is Nov. 4, 1631. This Princess was born +Nov. 4, 1631. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> From Tanner <span class="smcap">MS.</span>, as before; hitherto unprinted. See +note to preceding poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> Originally headed 'Natalis Ducis Eboracensis;' but altered +as above, as the English poem on this subject was so changed +when other children were born, and the earlier title became inapplicable. +Appeared originally in the University collection 'Ducis +Eboracensis' &c. (see Preface in present volume). This was +afterwards James II. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> On 'Peterhouse' see our Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and +Essay in the present volume. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> See Memorial-Introd. vol. i., and Essay in the present vol. +as below. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> Apparently the churches in the gift of the College. W.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> John Tournay was of Kent: B.A. 1623; M.A. 1627; B.D. +1634; elected Fellow of Pembroke Hall 20th October 1627, and +had the College title for orders the same year (Loder's Framlingham, +p. 250). See our Essay in present volume on the +group of College friends. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and our Essay, for +notices of Brooke; also present volume for other poems, &c. +addressed to him. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> Dr. Samuel Brooke, brother of Christopher Brooke, author +of sweet lines, as 'Tears,' and others. He died in September +1631. See note on Dr. Mansell <i>ante</i>. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> For notice of Herres or Harris, see Essay in the present +volume. Curiously enough, in line 2, the original misprints +'tempe' for 'nempe,' as in the 'Bulla' is misprinted 'nempe' for +'tempe;' and onward 'morte' for 'mortem;' while 'Oratorem' +and 'Poetam' are exchanged wrongly. In the heading too it is +'Dominum' for 'Gulielmum.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> In 1648 (last four lines), l. 2 is misprinted 'Anglica nec' +for 'Anglicana,' and l. 3 'militia' for 'malitia' of 1646 edition. +There is some obscurity in the 'ad vesperas legit.' The intransitive +use seems unusual, unless it means as above = the +Anglican Church performs the evening service at the close of +its day, or before it ceased to exist as the Church of the land. +Laud was now commencing those innovations which led to the +destruction of the Church of England. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> From 'Delights of the Muses,' after 'Upon the Death of +Mr. Herrys' (of vol. i. pp. 220-1). Not given by Turnbull. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> For Crashaw's own translation of this see vol. i. p. 217. G.</p></div> + +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 38550-h.txt or 38550-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/5/5/38550">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38550</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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