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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume
+II (of 2), by Richard Crashaw, Edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+
+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 www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Richard Crashaw
+
+Editor: Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+Release Date: January 13, 2012  [eBook #38550]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD
+CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has Volume I of this work.
+      See http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38549
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft
+
+
+Transcriber' note:
+
+      A character following a carat is supercripted (example:
+      y^e). When two or more characters are superscripted they
+      are enclosed in curly brackets (example: D^{ris}).
+
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+ESSAY ON LIFE AND WRITINGS.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA ET POEMATA LATINA: TRANSLATED FOR THE
+FIRST TIME. GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London:
+Robson and Sons, Printers, Pancras Road, N.W.
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+For the First Time Collected
+and Collated with the Original and Early Editions,
+and Much Enlarged with
+
+    I. Hitherto unprinted and inedited Poems from Archbishop Sancroft's
+        MSS. &c. &c.
+   II. Translation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata.
+  III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes.
+   IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own
+       Illustrations of 1652, with others specially prepared.
+
+Edited by the
+
+REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART,
+
+St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Printed for Private Circulation.
+1873.
+
+156 copies printed.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+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. RICHARD
+WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory, Market Weighton.
+
+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. HOLDEN, Ipswich, Rev. Dr.
+JESSOPP, Norwich, and W. ALDIS WRIGHT, 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.
+
+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.
+
+(_a_) Anthologia in Regis exanthemata; seu gratulatio Musarum
+Cantabrigiensium de felicissime conservata Regis Caroli valetudine,
+1632.
+
+(_b_) Ducis Eboracensis Fasciae a Musis Cantabrigiensibus raptim
+contextae, 1633.
+
+(_c_) Rex Redux; sive Musa Cantabrigiensis Voti ... et felici reditu
+Regis Caroli post receptam coronam comitaque peracta in Scotia, 1633.
+
+(_d_) Carmen Natalitium ad cunas illustrissimae Principis Elizabethae
+decantatum intra Nativitatis Dom. solemnia per humiles Cantabrigiae
+Musas, 1635.
+
+(_e_) Συνῳδία, sive Musarum Cantabrigiensium concentus et
+congratulatio ad serenissimum Britanniarum Regem Carolum de quinta sua
+sobole clarissima Principe sibi nuper felicissime nata, 1637.
+
+(_f_) Voces votivae ab Academicis Cantabrigiensibus pro novissimo Caroli
+et Mariae Principe Filio emissae, 1640.
+
+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.
+
+By the liberality of F. MADOX-BROWN, 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 W.J. LINTON, Esq. and Mrs. BLACKBURN 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. CHARLES ROBSON (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 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.
+
+  A.B.G.
+
+  Park View, Blackburn, Lancashire,
+  March 4, 1873.
+
+P.S. Three small overlooked items bearing on Crashaw having been
+recovered from a missing Note-book, I add them here.
+
+(_a_) 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 _Richard Bently_, _Jacob Tonson_, _Francis
+Saunders_, and _Tho. Bennett_.' It is from the same type, and identical
+in every way except the fresh title-page, with the (so-called) '2d
+Edition.'
+
+(_b_) 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:
+
+                    'Soft, sir,--stand!
+    You are arraign'd for theft; hold up your hand.
+    Impudent theft as ever was exprest,
+    Not to steal jewels only, but the chest;
+    Not to nib bits of gold from Crashaw's lines,
+    But swoop whole strikes together from his mynes.'
+
+Another piece, 'The Promise. To F.L. Esq., with Crashaw's Poems (1653),'
+has nothing quotable.
+
+(_c_) 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. G.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    As neither Crashaw nor his early Editors furnished Contents to the
+    Epigrammata et Poemata, we are left free to decide thereon; and
+    inasmuch as (_a_) our translations are intended to make Vol. II. as
+    generally accessible and understood as Vol. I, and as (_b_) 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. G.
+
+
+I. SACRED EPIGRAMS, 1-164. 1634-1670.
+
+                                                           TRANS.      PAGE
+
+Note                                                                      2
+
+‡        Dedication: Latin, pp. 7-11; English              G., CL.       11
+
+‡        To the Reader: Latin, pp. 16-22; English          G.            22
+
+*     1. Two went up into the Temple to pray               CR., B.       35
+
+      2. Upon the asse that bore our Saviour               CR., G.       36
+
+      3. The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own
+         people                                            B.            37
+
+‡     4. The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda               CL., G.       37
+
+‡     5. Christ to Thomas                                  CL., A.       38
+
+      6. Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall
+         find it                                           A., CR.  39, 206
+
+‡     7. Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark,
+         cometh unto the sepulchre                         G.            40
+
+‡     8. On the miracle of multiplyed loaves               G.            40
+
+      9. On the baptized Ethiopian                         CR., B.       41
+
+     10. The publican standing afar off, smote on his
+         breast                                            G.            42
+
+*‡   11. The widow's mites                                 CR.           43
+
+‡    12. Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard
+         His word                                          G.            43
+
+‡    13. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.            44
+
+     14. On the Prodigall                                  CR.           45
+
+     15. I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye[1]    CR., G.       45
+
+‡    16. On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms      CL.           46
+
+‡    17. When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid,
+         &c.                                               G.            46
+
+‡    18. He offered them money                             CL.           47
+
+‡    19. The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick            G.            47
+
+     20. The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned
+         silence                                           CR., G.       48
+
+     21. And a certaine priest comming that way looked on
+         him, &c.                                          CR., G., A.   49
+
+‡    22. The ungrateful lepers                             G.            50
+
+‡    23. Be ye not fretted about to-morrow                 G., A.        51
+
+‡    24. Matthew called from the receipt of custom         R. WI.        52
+
+‡    25. The dead son re-delivered to his mother           CL.           52
+
+     26. It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.  CR., G.       53
+
+‡    27. The man ill of dropsy cured                       G.            54
+
+‡    28. There was no room for them in the Inn             G.            55
+
+     29. Upon Lazarus his teares                           CR., G.       55
+
+‡    30. Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the
+         Christ                                            G.            56
+
+‡    31. But though He had done so many miracles, &c.      CL.           56
+
+‡    32. To S. Andrew, fisherman                           G.            57
+
+‡    33. I am the voice                                    G.            57
+
+‡    34. The chains spontaneously fall off                 G.            58
+
+‡    35. On All-Saints' Day                                R. WI.        58
+
+     36. Upon the Powder-day                               CR.           59
+
+‡    37. God in the Virgin's womb                          R. WI.        59
+
+‡    38. To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen             G.            61
+
+‡    39. St. John in exile                                 G.            61
+
+     40. To the infant martyrs                             CR., B.       62
+
+‡    41. The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus                    G.            63
+
+     42. I am not worthy, &c.                              CR.           63
+
+     43. And He answered them nothing                      CR., G.       64
+
+‡    44. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           65
+
+‡    45. The Word among thorns                             G.            65
+
+‡    46. The Judaic and Christian Sabbath                  G.            66
+
+     47. The blind cured by the word of our Saviour        CR.           67
+
+‡    48. My burden is light                                G.            67
+
+     49. On the miracle of loaves                          CR., R. WI.   67
+
+‡    50. Now we know Thee to have a devil                  G.            68
+
+     51. On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness               CR.           69
+
+‡    52. On the wounds of our crucified Lord               R. WI.        69
+
+‡    53. Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?      G.            71
+
+*    54. Come, see the place where the Lord lay
+         Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord                    CR.           72
+
+‡    55. The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)      G.            72
+
+     56. On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's
+         wounds                                            CR., G.       73
+
+     57. The sick implore St. Peter's shadow               CR., G.       74
+
+‡    58. Why are ye troubled? Behold My hands, &c.         G.            75
+
+‡    59. The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, &c.     G.            75
+
+‡    60. From his body there were brought ...
+         handkerchiefs, &c.                                R. WI.        76
+
+‡    61. Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father         G.            76
+
+‡    62. Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.      CL.           77
+
+     63. But men loved darkness rather than light          CR., B., G.   77
+
+     64. Dives asking a drop                               CR.           78
+
+‡    65. How can a man be born when he is old?             R. WI.        79
+
+‡    66. The tree dried up by the word of Christ           G.            80
+
+‡    67. Zacharias incredulous                             CL.           80
+
+     68. On the water of our Lord's baptisme               CR., B.       81
+
+‡    69. The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, &c.      G.            81
+
+‡    70. Neither durst any man ... ask Him any more
+         questions                                         G.            82
+
+     71. St. John and his mother                           B.            82
+
+     72. If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down      B.            83
+
+     73. The Lord weeping over the Jews                    B.            83
+
+‡    74. Nor even as this publican                         G.            84
+
+‡    75. On Saul blinded with too much light               R. WI.        84
+
+     76. Blessed are the eyes which see                    B., G.        85
+
+‡    77. Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier
+                                                           R. WI.        85
+
+‡    78. On the wise of this world                         R. WI.        86
+
+‡    79. The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a
+         precipice                                         G.            87
+
+‡    80. The casting down of the dragon                    G.            87
+
+‡    81. The blessed Virgin believing                      G.            87
+
+‡    82. Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar?            G.            88
+
+‡    83. The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the
+         dead                                              G.            89
+
+     84. The fishermen called                              B., G., A.    89
+
+     85. Give to Cæsar ... and to God                      CR., G.       90
+
+     86. The Lord borne on the ass                         B., R. WI.    90
+
+‡    87. They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud   G.            91
+
+‡    88. Except I shall put my fingers, &c.                G.            91
+
+‡    89. To the Jews stoning Stephen                       G.            92
+
+‡    90. To St. John the beloved disciple                  G.            92
+
+     91. Upon the infant martyrs                           CR., G.       93
+
+‡    92. God with us                                       G.            93
+
+     93. The circumcision of Christ: Vol. I. pp. 48-9;
+         and                                               CR.           94
+
+‡    94. The Epiphany of our Lord                          CL.           94
+
+‡    95. Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.                      G.            95
+
+     96. Water turned into wine                            G., CL., A.   96
+
+‡    97. The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant,
+         &c.                                               G.            97
+
+     98. Why are ye so fearful?                            B.            97
+
+‡    99. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           98
+
+‡   100. Good seed in the field                            G.            99
+
+    101. She began to wash His feet, &c.                   CR., CL.      99
+
+‡   102. What seekest that I do to thee?                   G.           100
+
+‡   103. The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan      G.           101
+
+    104. Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked        CR.          101
+
+‡   105. Christ the Vine (including the branches)          G.           102
+
+    106. Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and
+         lament                                            CR.          102
+
+    107. Christ the good Shepherd                          B., CL.      103
+
+    108. On the wounds of the crucified Lord               CR., G.      104
+
+‡   109. The paralytic healed                              G.           104
+
+‡   110. Then took they up stones                          G.           105
+
+‡   111. On the Resurrection of the Lord                   R. WI.       105
+
+‡   112. But some doubted                                  R. WI.       106
+
+‡   113. The scars of the wounds which the Lord
+         showed, &c.                                       G.           106
+
+‡   114. John sends to Jesus, &c.                          CL.          107
+
+    115. On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare         CR.          108
+
+    116. The withered hand healed                          G., B.       108
+
+    117. To Pontius washing his hands                      CR., B.      108
+
+‡   118. The stater-giving fish                            G.           109
+
+    119. I have overcome the world                         B., A.       110
+
+‡   120. On the ascension of our Lord                      R. WI.       111
+
+*‡  121. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.           112
+
+‡   122. God so loved the world, that He gave His
+         ... Son                                           R. WI.       112
+
+‡   123. I have bought five yoke of oxen                   G.           113
+
+‡   124. St. Paul healing the lame man with a word, &c.    R. WI.       113
+
+*   125. To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of
+         Christ                                            W.           114
+
+‡   126. The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter     G.           115
+
+    127. The Pharisees murmured, &c.                       G., B.       116
+
+‡   128. On the beam of the Pharisee                       R. WI.       116
+
+‡   129. They determined ... he should be put out
+         of the synagogue                                  A.           117
+
+    130. Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee      CL., B.      117
+
+‡   131. To the guests at the miraculous supper of the
+         five loaves                                       R. WI.       118
+
+‡   132. Christ overcoming the world                       G.           119
+
+    133. The Grecian disputants go about to kill St.
+         Paul                                              R. WI.       119
+
+‡   134. He that is greatest among you, let him be as
+         the younger                                       B.           120
+
+‡   135. He beheld the city, and wept over it              R. WI.       120
+
+    136. Christ in Egypt                                   R. WI.       121
+
+‡   137. The blind confessing Christ, &c.                  G., B.       121
+
+    138. If any man will come after Me, &c.                G.           122
+
+    139. And he left all ... and followed Him              B., G.       122
+
+    140. Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets           CR., G.      123
+
+‡   141. The man with the withered hand, &c.               G.           123
+
+‡   142. Luke the beloved physician                        B., A.       124
+
+    143. The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ        G.           125
+
+    144. To the assembly of all the S                      W., A.       125
+
+‡   145. Christ heals in absence                           CL.          127
+
+‡   146. The man born blind                                B., A.       127
+
+‡   147. And they laughed at Him                           G.           127
+
+‡   148. The wisdom of the world                           CL.          128
+
+*‡  149. On the stable where our Lord was born             A.           128
+
+‡   150. St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument  CL.          130
+
+‡   151. On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a
+         caldron, &c.                                      CL.          130
+
+‡   152. The infant-martyrs                                G.           131
+
+‡   153. They brought unto Him all sick people, &c.        R. WI.       131
+
+‡   154. A sword shall pierce through thy own soul         G.           132
+
+‡   155. On the blood of the Lord's circumcision           R. WI.       133
+
+‡   156. The Child Jesus among the doctors                 R. WI.       134
+
+    157. To our Lord, upon the water made wine             CR., G.      135
+
+‡   158. The Infant Christ is presented to the Father
+         in the Temple                                     R. WI.       135
+
+‡   159. The leper beseeching                              G.           136
+
+    160. Why are ye afraid?                                CR., B.      137
+
+‡   161. They teach customs, &c.                           R. WI.       138
+
+*‡  162. Command that this stone become a loaf             G.           139
+
+    163. The woman of Canaan                               R. WI.       139
+
+    164. Upon the dumbe devill cast out, &c.               CR.          140
+
+‡   165. They said, This is of a truth that Prophet        R. WI.       141
+
+‡   166. It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's
+         porch                                             R. WI.       141
+
+‡   167. They gave large money to the soldiers             R. WI.       142
+
+‡   168. To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic
+         salutation                                        R. WI.       143
+
+    169. To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands        CR.          144
+
+‡   170. On the day of the Lord's Passion                  R. WI.       144
+
+‡   171. On the day of the Lord's Resurrection, &c.        A.           146
+
+‡   172. On the scars of the Lord still remaining          R. WI.       147
+
+‡   173. My peace I give unto you                          R. WI.       149
+
+‡   174. Paul's conversion and blindness                   CL.          149
+
+‡   175. I am the Way, &c.                                 R. WI.       150
+
+‡   176. On the night and winter journey of the Infant
+         Lord                                              R. WI.       150
+
+‡   177. I do not say that I will pray the Father for
+         you                                               A.           157
+
+*‡  178. On the day of the Lord's Ascension                R. WI.       159
+
+*‡  179. The blind man implores Christ                     R. WI.       160
+
+*‡  180. What man of you having an hundred sheep, &c.      R. WI.       161
+
+*‡  181. To Herod beheading St. James                      R. WI.       162
+
+*‡  182. The blind men having received their sight, &c.    R. WI.       163
+
+*   183. Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree                     R. WI.       164
+
+    184. On our crucified Lord, naked and bloody           CR.          164
+
+    185. Sampson to his Dalilah                            CR.          164
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS, 165-6.
+
+      1. Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice'
+         and 'The Broken Heart'                                         165
+
+      2. Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, &c.                                  165
+
+      3. On marriage                                                    165
+
+      4. On Nanus mounted upon an ant                                   165
+
+      5. Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes                           166
+
+      6. Vpon the same                                                  166
+
+      7. Out of Martiall                                                166
+
+
+II. SACRED EPIGRAMS, NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 167-205.
+
+†‡    1. St. Paul and the viper                            G.           169
+
+†‡    2. The miracle of the loaves                         G.           169
+
+†‡    3. Of the tears of the suffering Christ              G.           170
+
+†‡    4. The sepulchre of the Lord                         G.           171
+
+†‡    5. The parting words of Love                         G.           172
+
+†‡    6. Herod devoured of worms                           G.           172
+
+†‡    7. It is good to be here                             G.           173
+
+†‡    8. Look on the lilies, &c.                           R. WI.       173
+
+†‡    9. The deaf healed                                   R. WI.       173
+
+†‡   10. The modesty of the blessed Virgin                 G.           174
+
+†‡   11. I send you as lambs, &c.                          G.           174
+
+†‡   12. Christ carried by the devil                       G.           175
+
+†‡   13. St. John the Baptist a voice                      G.           175
+
+†‡   14. John the Voice, Christ the Word                   G.           176
+
+†‡   15. On the birth of the Lord, &c.                     G.           176
+
+†‡   16. Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians        G.           177
+
+†‡   17. I am the True Vine                                G.           178
+
+†‡   18. The departure of Christ lamented, &c.             G.           178
+
+†‡   19. On the descent of the Holy Spirit                 R. WI.       179
+
+†‡   20. Life and Death                                    G.           179
+
+†    21. I am the Doore                                    CR., G.      180
+
+†    22. Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's
+         head, &c.                                         CR., G.      181
+
+†‡   23. Nicodemus                                         G.           181
+
+†‡   24. To Domitian, concerning St. John, &c.             R. WI.       183
+
+†‡   25. The voice of the Baptist                          G.           183
+
+†‡   26. On St. Peter loosed by the angel                  R. WI.       184
+
+†    27. On St. Peter casting away his nets, &c.           CR., G.      184
+
+†‡   28. The Lamb of God, &c.                              G.           185
+
+†‡   29. The miraculous draught of fishes                  G.           186
+
+†‡   30. Lord, not my feet only, &c.                       G.           186
+
+†‡   31. Though they beheld so many miracles, &c.          G.           186
+
+†‡   32. On the cloud which received the Lord              R. WI.       187
+
+†‡   33. He saw the city, and wept over it                 G.           188
+
+†‡   34. Nor even as this publican                         R. WI.       189
+
+†‡   35. His Disciples came and awoke Him                  R. WI.       189
+
+†‡   36. The woman of Canaan                               G.           189
+
+†‡   37. Wherefore sitteth your Master with sinners, &c.   G.           191
+
+†‡   38. Miracles of healing, &c.                          G.           191
+
+†‡   39. To St. Luke the physician                         R. WI.       192
+
+†‡   40. He bears His own cross                            G.           193
+
+†    41. Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse, &c.   CR., G.      194
+
+†‡   42. And they spat upon Him                            G.           194
+
+†‡   43. He besought that He would go with him, &c.        G.           194
+
+†‡   44. For dread came upon him, &c.                      G.           196
+
+†    45. But now they have seen and hated                  CR., G.      196
+
+†‡   46. The blind suppliant                               G.           197
+
+†‡   47. The Pharisees insidiously watching, &c.           G.           199
+
+†‡   48. Touched the hem of His garment, &c.               R. WI.       200
+
+†‡   49. The departing Saviour                             R. WI.       200
+
+†‡   50. Paul unfearing [page 45, and]                     G.           201
+
+†‡   51. The message of the Baptist to Christ              R. WI.       202
+
+†‡   52. Gifts to Jesus                                    R. WI.       202
+
+†‡   53. On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition          R. WI.       203
+
+†    54. Upon our Saviour's tombe, &c.                     CR., G.      204
+
+†‡   55. On the Holy Spirit descending, &c.                R. WI.       205
+
+†    56. Life for death                                    CR.          205
+
+†‡   57. On the Divine love                                CR.          205
+
+
+III. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED, 207-218.
+
+‡        Faith, which alone justifies, exists not without
+         hope and love                                     G.           209
+
+‡        Baptism cancels not after-sins                    CL.          216
+
+
+IV. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 219-242.
+
+†        Psalm 1.                                                       221
+
+†‡       Wrath of the judgment-whirlwind                   R. WI.       221
+
+†‡       Even so: come, Lord Jesus                         R. WI.       223
+
+†‡       Circumcision of Christ                            R. WI.       225
+
+†‡       The Virgin Mary, on losing the Child Jesus        R. WI.       229
+
+†‡       War in heaven                                     R. WI.       231
+
+†‡       We do not receive, but make, a short life         R. WI.       233
+
+†‡       Martyrs                                           R. WI.       235
+
+†‡       Hope                                              R. WI.       237
+
+†‡       On Stephen's crown                                R. WI.       239
+
+‡        Jesus Christ's expostulation with an ungrateful
+         world                                             R. WI.       241
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 243-92.
+
+I. _From 'Steps to the Temple' and 'Delights of the Muses.'_
+
+‡        The Bubble                                        G.           247
+
+‡        Peace of mind, under the similitude of a captive
+         song-bird                                         G.           258
+
+‡        Gain out of loss                                  G.           263
+
+‡        Description of human life                         R. WI.       266
+
+‡        On Pygmalion                                      A., G.       269
+
+‡        Arion                                             G.           273
+
+‡        On Apollo pining for Daphne                       G.           279
+
+‡        Æneas the bearer of his father                    G.           283
+
+‡        Of the generation and regeneration of the Phœnix  G.           284
+
+‡        Epitaph                                           A., G.       286
+
+‡        Elegy                                             R. WI.       289
+
+‡        Woman a treasury of evils                         G.           290
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 293-330.
+
+II. _Miscellaneous and Commemorative._
+
+†‡       The beautiful not lasting                         G.           296
+
+†‡       A hymn to Venus                                   G.           300
+
+†‡       A description of Spring                           R. WI.       303
+
+†‡       Priscianus beaten and being beaten                R. WI.       308
+
+†‡       To a Tractate on this subject, &c.                R. WI.       315
+
+†        Purgation                                                      317
+
+†‡       To my most estimable preceptor ... R. Brooke      R. WI.       319
+
+‡        On death of Rev. Dr. Mansell                      R. WI.       323
+
+‡        To the Right Hon. Lord Robert Heath, on being
+         made a judge, &c.                                 R. WI.       326
+
+†        Ode on Horace, Lib. ii. 13, in Greek                           329
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 331-84.
+
+III. _Royal and Academical._
+
+‡        The Return of the King                            A.           333
+
+‡        To the royal Infant not yet born                  R. WI.       335
+
+‡        To the King on recovery from small-pox            R. WI.       337
+
+‡        To her serene Majesty child-bearing in winter     R. WI.       339
+
+‡        To the Queen                                      CL.          342
+
+‡        To the Queen ... from the university              R. WI.       345
+
+‡        On birth of Princess Mary                         CL.          346
+
+†‡       On the same                                       R. WI.       350
+
+‡        To the Queen                                      R. WI.       354
+
+‡        The prayer of Peterhouse for the House of God
+         [=its chapel]                                     S.S.         357
+
+‡        A groan on occasion of the difficult parturition
+         of the remaining works of Peterhouse              R. WI., G.   362
+
+‡        To the venerable man, Master Tournay, &c.         CL.          371
+
+‡        To Master Brooke                                  R. WI.       374
+
+‡        Epitaph on Dr. Brooke                             R. WI.       376
+
+‡        Epitaph on William Herries                        G.           378
+
+‡        On the same                                       R. WI.       383
+
+‡        On the Portrait of Bishop Andrewes                CR.          384
+
+
+Glossarial Index                                                        385
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. II. 4TO.
+
+Photograph of the Cartoon for the memorial-window to
+Crashaw in Peterhouse, by F. Madox-Brown, Esq. R.A.    _facing title-page._
+
+The captive Song-bird, by Mrs. Blackburn               _vignette to Essay._
+
+Vignette illustrations, by W.J. Linton, Esq. _pp._  96, 242, 251, 295, 329,
+                                                             350, 373, 377.
+
+
+
+
+ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND POETRY OF CRASHAW.[2]
+
+
+In our Memorial-Introduction (vol. i. p. xxvi.) we make two promises,
+which fall now to be redeemed:
+
+(_a_) A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+(_b_) A MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D., HIS FATHER.
+
+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.
+
+
+I. MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D.
+
+The late laborious and accurate Joseph Hunter, in his MS. collections
+yclept Chorus Vatum, which by rare good fortune are preserved in the
+British Museum (Addl. MSS. 24.487, pp. 34-39), thus begins, _s.n._
+
+'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 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.'
+
+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
+'_his own_' otherwise--though in strong, even fierce, antagonism as
+Divine and Writer to his gentle-natured son's after-opinions.
+
+Hitherto, in the brief and meagre notices of his son, and of the
+paternal Crashaw, it has simply been stated that he was a
+'_Yorkshireman_.' 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 MSS., 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.[3]
+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:
+
+'1572, October 26th, WILL., 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 Eairl [_sic_] 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.
+
+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.[4] That we are right in all this is made
+certain by his Will, wherein our Crashaw (_pater_) 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.'[5] So far as I can
+gather from several family-tables which have been furnished to me,
+_the_ 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: _e.g._ 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.[6] Our Worthy had life-long intercourse and life-long
+friendships with the foremost in Yorkshire, as his Will genially and
+quaintly testifies.
+
+Fatherless in his 13th-14th year, his widowed mother must have been in
+circumstances pecuniarily that enabled her to have William, at least,
+'_prepared_' for the University. He was of renowned 'St. John's,'
+Cambridge, designated by him his 'deere nurse and spirituall mother.'[7]
+A MS. 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.'[8] Such is the 'entry' as given by Baker; 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.e._ 1593-4]. The
+Bishop of Ely had the right of nominating one Fellow.[9] 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 '_deprived_' of a 'little vicarage' ('A Discourse on Popish
+Corruptions requiring a Kingly Reformation:' MS. in Royal Library).
+Inquiries at Bridlington, 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.
+
+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.'
+
+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.'[10] 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 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.
+
+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 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 _to the child of her
+predecessor_--a rare vertue [as he noted] in step-mothers at this
+day.'[11] 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.[12]
+
+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.[13] Next
+is this: 'The Parable of Poyson. In Five 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 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.
+
+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 _by others_--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 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 _my sonne Richarde_ executors of my Will' (10th June
+1622).[14]
+
+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, _as to a trusted friend_, 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.
+
+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;' '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.
+
+
+TO OUR LADY OF HALL AND THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    'My thoughts are at a stand, of milke and blood,
+      Delights of brest and side, which yeelds most good;
+    And say, when on the teates mine eyes I cast,
+      O Lady, of thy brest I beg a taste.
+    But if mine eyes upon the wounds doe glide,
+      Then, Jesu, I had rather sucke Thy side.
+    Long have I mused, now knowe I where to rest;
+      For with my right hand I will graspe the brest,
+    If so I may presume: as for the wounds,
+      With left He catch them; thus my zeale abounds.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'Mother and Son, give eare to what I crave,
+      I beg this milke, that bloud, and both would have.
+    Youngling, that in Thy mother's armes art playing,
+      Sucking her brest sometimes, and sometimes staying,
+    Why dost Thou view me with that looke of scorne?
+      'Tis forceless envie that 'gainst Thee is borne.
+    Oft hast Thou said, being angry at my sinne,
+      Darest thou desire the teates My food lyes in?
+    I will not, oh I dare not, golden Child;
+      My mind from feare is not so farre exild:
+    But one, even one poore drop I doe implore
+      From Thy right hand or side, I ask no more.
+    If neither, from Thy left hand let one fall;
+      Nay from Thy foot, rather than none at all:
+    If I displease Thee, let Thy wounds me wound,
+      But pay my wage if I in grace be found.'
+
+Finally:
+
+    'But ah, I thirst; ah, droght my breath doth smother,
+      Quench me with blood, sweet Son; with milk, good mother
+    Say to Thy mother, See My brother's thirst;
+      Mother, your milke will ease him at the first.
+    Say to thy Son, Behold Thy brother's bands;
+      Sweet Son, Thou hast his ransome in Thy hands.
+    Shew Thy redeeming power to soules opprest,
+      Thou Sonne, if that Thy blood excel the rest.
+    And shew Thyselfe justly so stilde indeed,
+      Thou mother, if thy brests the rest exceed.
+    Ah, when shall I with these be satisfi'd?
+      When shall I swimme in joyes of brest and side?
+    Pardon, O God, mine eager earnestnesse,
+      If I Thy lawes and reason's bounds transgresse;
+    Where thirst o're-swayes, patience is thrust away:
+      Stay but my thirst, and then my cryes will stay.
+    I am better then Thy nailes; yet did a streame
+      Of Thy deere bloud wash both the lance and them.
+    More worthy I then clouts; yet them a flood
+      Moistened of mother's milke and of Son's blood.'
+
+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:
+
+    'In silence of a Winter's night,
+    A sleeping yet a walking spirit;
+      A livelesse body to my sight
+      Methought appeared, thus addight.
+
+    In that my sleepe I did descry
+    A Soule departed but lately
+      From that foule body which lay by;
+      Wailing with sighes, and loud did cry.
+
+    Fast by the body, thus she mones
+    And questions it, with sighes and grones;
+      O wretched flesh, thus low who makes thee lye,
+      Whom yesterday the world had seene so high?
+
+    Was't not but yesterday the world was thine,
+      And all the countrey stood at thy devotion?
+    Thy traine that followed thee when thy sunne did shine
+      Have now forsaken thee: O dolefull alteration!
+
+    Those turrets gay of costly masonry,
+      And larger palaces, are not now thy roome;
+    But in a coffin of small quantity
+      Thou lyest interrèd in a little tombe.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    O wretched flesh, with me that art forlorne,
+      If thou couldst know how sharpe our punishment;
+    How justly mightest thou wish not to be borne,
+      Or from the wombe to tombe to have been hent!
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    How lik'st thou now, poor foole, thy latter lodging,
+      The roofe whereof lyes even with thy nose?
+    Thy eyes are shut, thy tongue cannot be cogging;
+      Nothing of profit rests at thy dispose.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thy garments, wretched fool, are farre from rich;
+      Thy upper garment hardly worth a scute;
+    A little linnen shrouds thee in thy ditch,
+      No rents nor gifts men bring, nor make their suite.'
+
+Again, st. 79-81:
+
+    'If I be clad in rich array,
+    And well attended every day,
+    Both wise and good I shal be thoght,
+    My kinred also shall be sought.
+    I am, say men, the case is cleere,
+    Your cosen, sir, a kinsman neere.
+    But if the world doe change and frowne,
+    Our kinred is no longer knowne;
+    Nor I remembred any more
+    By them that honoured me before.
+    O vanity! vile love of mucke,
+    Foule poyson, wherefore hast thou stucke
+    Thyselfe so deepe, to raise so high
+    Things vanishing so suddenly?'
+
+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).
+
+    'This is Christian faith unfainèd,
+    Orthodoxall, true, unstainèd.
+    As I teach, all understand,
+    Yeelding unto neither hand.
+    And in this my soule's defence,
+    Reiect me not for mine offence:
+    Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation
+    I fly in death to seek salvation.
+    I have no meane Thy love to gain,
+    But this faith which I maintaine.
+    This Thou seest, nor will I cease
+    By this to beg for a release.
+    Let this sacred salve be bound
+    Vpon my sores, to make them sound.
+    Though man be carried forth, and lying
+    In his grave, and putrifying:
+    Bound and hid from mortall eyes;
+    Yet if Thou bid, he must arise.
+    At Thy will the grave will open,
+    At Thy will his bonds are broken.
+    And forth he comes without delay,
+    If Thou but once bid, Come away!
+    In this sea of dread and doubt
+    My poore barke is tost about;
+    With storms and pirats far and wide,
+    Death and woes on every side.
+    Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest,
+    Calme these winds that me molest;
+    Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence,
+    And show me some safe residence.
+    My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead,
+    All the boughs are witherèd;
+    Downe it must, and to the fire,
+    If desert have his due hire.
+    But spare it, Lord, another yeare.
+    With manuring it [yet] may beare.
+    If it then be dead and dry,
+    Burne it; alas, what remedy!
+    Mine old foe assaults me sore
+    With fire and water, more and more.
+    Poore I, of all my strength bereft,
+    Onely unto Thee am left.
+    That my foe may hence be chasèd,
+    And I from Ruin's clawes releasèd,
+    Lord, vouchsafe me every day
+    Strength to fast, and faith to pray:
+    These two meanes Thyself hast taught
+    To bring temptation's force to noght.
+    Lord, free my soule from sin's infection
+    By repentance's direction.
+    Be Thy feare in me abiding,
+    My soule to true salvation guiding.
+    Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love,
+    Zeale of heaven and things above.
+    Teach mee prize the world at nought;
+    On Thy blisse be all my thought.
+    All my hopes on Thee I found,
+    In Whom all good things abound.
+    Thou art all my dignitie:
+    All I have I have from Thee.
+    Thou art my comfort in distresse,
+    Thou art my cure in heavinesse;
+    Thou art my music in my sadnes,
+    Thou art my medicine in my madnesse.
+    Thou my freedom from my thral,
+    Thou my raiser from my fall.
+    In my labour Thou reliev'st me;
+    Thou reform'st whatever grieves me.
+    Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth,
+    And from hurt my soul defendeth.
+    Thou my deepest doubts revealest,
+    Thou my secret faults concealest.
+    O do Thou stay my feet from treading
+    In paths to hel and horror leading,
+    Where eternal torment dwels,
+    With fears and tears and lothsome smels;
+    Where man's deepest shame is sounded,
+    And the guilty still confounded;
+    Where the scourge for ever beateth,
+    And the worme that alwaies eateth;
+    Where all those endless do remain,
+    Lord, preserve us from this paine.
+    In Sion lodge me, Lord, for pitty--
+    Sion, David's kingly citty,
+    Built by Him that's onely good;
+    Whose gates be of the Crosse's wood;
+    Whose keys are Christ's undoubted word;
+    Whose dwellers feare none but the Lord;
+    Whose wals are stone, strong, quicke and bright;
+    Whose Keeper is the Lord of Light:
+    Here the light doth never cease,
+    Endlesse Spring and endles peace;
+    Here is musicke, heaven filling,
+    Sweetnesse evermore distilling;
+    Here is neither spot nor taint,
+    No defect, nor no complaint;
+    No man crookèd, great nor small,
+    But to Christ conformèd all.
+    Blessed towne, divinely gracèd,
+    On a rocke so strongly placèd,
+    Thee I see, and thee I long for;
+    Thee I seek, and thee I grone for.
+    O what ioy thy dwellers tast,
+    All in pleasure first and last!
+    What full enioying blisse divine,
+    What iewels on thy wals do shine!
+    Ruby, iacinth, chalcedon,
+    Knowne to them within alone.
+    In this glorious company,
+    In the streets of Sion, I
+    With Iob, Moses, and Eliah,
+    Will sing the heauenly Alleviah. Amen.
+
+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.
+
+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
+
+
+II. A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+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.
+
+I think I shall be able to say what has struck myself as worth saying
+about Crashaw, under these three things:
+
+I. His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, using the terms
+as historic words, not polemically.
+
+II. His friends and associates, as celebrated in his Writings.
+
+III. His characteristics and place as a Poet. These successively.
+
+I. _His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism._ From our Memoir
+of his Father it will be apparent to all that _he_ 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.[15] 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.[16] 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 MSS. on the _Gunpowder Treason_ (vol. i.
+pp. 188-194) are 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:
+
+
+A CONCLUSION TO THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKE.
+
+    Tradition and antiquitie, the ground
+      Whereon that erring Church doth so relye,
+    Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound
+      The novel doctrine of their heresie,
+    Which plaine by these most sensible degrees
+      Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall;
+    Where each observing iudgement plainely sees,
+      From good to bad, from bad to worst of all
+    It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire,
+      Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may,
+    To blinde this truth; to no step any higher
+      By any policie it can essay.
+    These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale
+      And meditations of most pious use,
+    Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale:
+      Free from impiety, or least abuse,
+    Blot out all merit in ourselves we have,
+      And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye:
+    Offer not prayers for those are in the grave,
+      Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry.
+    Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd
+      From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage,
+    Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd
+      To passe among the good things of this Age,
+    Yet are in this respect of more regard,
+      Since God would have them to these times appeare,
+    So many having perisht; and be heard
+      With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare.
+    By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart,
+      Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not,
+    He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part,
+      That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.
+
+                                                        B.L.
+
+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 '_change_' 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,' _id est_, 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,' 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.[17] 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,
+STEPS 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' 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_est_ 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:
+
+    'Thus haue I back again to thy bright name,
+    Fair floud of holy fires! transfus'd the flame
+    I took from reading thee....
+    ... O pardon, if I dare to say
+    Thine own dear bookes are guilty.'  (vol. i. p. 150.)
+
+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.[18] Going back on the
+'Hymn,' such lines as these show how even then the Poet had drunk-in the
+very passion of Teresa: _e.g._
+
+    'Loue toucht her heart, and, lo, it beates
+    High, and burnes with such braue heates,
+    Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp
+    _A thousand cold deathes in one cup_.
+    Good reason: for she breathes all fire;
+    Her white breast heaues with strong desire.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Sweet, not so fast! lo, thy fair Spouse,
+    Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes,
+    Calls thee back, and bidds thee come
+    T'embrace a milder martyrdom.
+      Blest powres forbid thy tender life
+    Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife:
+    Or some base hand have power to raze
+    Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase
+    A soul kept there so sweet: O no,
+    Wise Heaun will neuer haue it so.
+    Thou art Love's victime, and must dy
+    A death more mystical and high:
+    Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall
+    A still-suruiuing funerall.
+    His is the dart must make the death
+    Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath;
+    A dart thrice dipt in that rich flame
+    Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name
+    Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay
+    It shines; and with a soueraign ray
+    Beates bright vpon the burning faces
+    Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces
+    Find everlasting smiles.  .  .
+    O how oft shalt thou complain
+    Of a sweet and subtle pain;
+    Of intolerable ioyes;
+    Of a death, in which who dyes
+    Loues his death, and dyes again,
+    And would for ever so be slain,
+    And liues and dyes; and knowes not why
+    To live, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy.'
+
+It is deeply significant to find such a Hymn as that written while 'yet
+among the Protestants.' Putting the two things together--(_a_) his
+recluse, shy, meditative life 'under Tertullian's roofe of angels,' and
+his prayers THERE in the night; (_b_) 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 drew him to such literature, and the
+literature fed what perchance demanded rather to be neutralised.[19] 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.e._ 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 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 _the_ 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.
+
+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, 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.
+
+Thus from all sides came potent influences of personal friendship--of
+his friends and associates more onward--to give impulse and _momentum_
+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
+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.
+
+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 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.).
+
+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 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.[20] 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 _Seguita_ (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 '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--(_a_) 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: (_b_) 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: (_c_) 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 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.[21] I pass
+to--
+
+II. _His friends and associates, as celebrated in his writings._ I use
+the word 'Writings' here rather than 'Poems,' because in his Epistles,
+_e.g._ 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.[22]
+Very little has come down to us concerning 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).
+
+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 MSS. 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).
+
+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 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, _pro Gradu_, the last
+week, upon Rom. iii. 28, he said he came not _palinodiam canere, sed
+eandem cantilenam canere_; 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 _Die Comitiorum_, 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).[23]
+
+Robert Shelford, 'of Ringsfield in Suffolk, Priest,' was another
+'_suspect_:' as in Huntley's [ = Prynne] _Breviate_ (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 _ut famosi
+Perni amanuensem possis agnoscere_. 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.).[24] So with James Stanninow (or
+Staninough), 'fellow of Queene's 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).[25] 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).[26]
+
+It only remains that I notice our Crashaw's friendship with (_a_)
+Abraham Cowley; (_b_) the Countess of Denbigh.
+
+(_a_) ABRAHAM COWLEY. 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.[27]
+
+(_b_) COUNTESS OF DENBIGH. 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 MSS. 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 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 _she_ became a Roman Catholic,[28] 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 _supra_). These in order:
+
+
+I. Buckingham to his Mother [undated]:
+
+    Dere Mother,--Give me but as many blessings and pardons as I shall
+    make falts, and then you make happie
+
+  Your most obedient Sonne,
+
+  For my Mother.                          BUCKINGHAM.
+
+
+II. Susan, Countess of Denbigh, to Lord Fielding:
+
+    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.
+
+    Your loveing Mother,
+
+    For my deare Sonne theise.      SU. DENBIGH.
+
+
+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.[29] 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 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
+
+III. _His characteristics and place as a Poet._ 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
+MSS.; 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: (_a_) Imaginative-sensuousness;
+(_b_) Subtlety of emotion; (_c_) Epigrams; (_d_) Translations and
+(briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry. I would say a little on each.
+
+(_a_) _Imaginative-sensuousness._ 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, _sensuous_, and passionate;' and I qualify 'sensuousness' 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!
+
+    'Heauns thy fair eyes be;
+      Heauens of ever-falling starres.
+      'Tis seed-time still with thee;
+      And starres thou sow'st whose haruest dares
+    Promise the Earth to counter-shine
+    Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine.'
+
+How grandly vague is that 'counter-shine _whatever_,' 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.:
+
+      'The deaw no more will weep                                _dew_
+      The primrose's pale cheek to deck:
+      The deaw no more will sleep
+      Nuzzel'd in the lily's neck;
+    Much rather would it be thy tear,
+    And leaue them both to tremble there.'
+
+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, '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:
+
+    'We goe not to seek
+      The darlings of Aurora's bed,
+      The rose's modest cheek,
+      Nor the violet's humble head,
+    Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be,
+    Because they want such teares as we.
+      Much lesse mean to trace
+      The fortune of inferior gemmes,
+      Preferr'd to some proud face,
+      Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems:
+    _Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet_
+    A worthy object, our _Lord's feet_.'
+
+'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.'
+
+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: for the Critic ought to have marked how the
+Poet's 'shoes' are put off his feet in approaching the weeping
+Magdalene; but that _she_ 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 exceptions only
+establishing the rule). His epithets are never superfluous, and are,
+even to surprising nicety, true. Thus he calls Egypt '_white_ 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.[30] Similarly we have '_hir'd_ mist' (vol. i.
+p. 84); '_pretious_ losse' (ib.); '_fair-ey'd_ fallacy of Day' (ib. p.
+85); '_black_ but faithfull perspectiue of Thee' (ib. p. 86); '_abasèd_
+liddes' (ib. p. 88); '_gratious_ robbery' (ib. p. 156); 'thirsts of
+loue' (ib.); '_timerous_ light of starres' (ib. p. 172); '_rebellious_
+eye of Sorrow' (ib. p. 112); and so in hundreds of parallels. Take this
+from 'To the Name above every Name' (ib. p. 60):
+
+            'O come away ...
+    O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope--
+    Love's eastern windowes--all wide ope
+            With curtains drawn,
+    To catch the day-break of Thy dawn.
+    O, dawn at last, long-lookt-for Day,
+    Take thine own wings, and come away.'
+
+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,
+
+    Since 'tis not to be had at home
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    She'l to the Moores and martyrdom.'[31]
+
+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 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 _proper then_ and _true now_, 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.
+
+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).
+
+I thank Dr. George Macdonald[32] (in 'Antiphon') for 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.[33]
+
+(_b_) _Subtlety of emotion._ Dr. Donne, in a memorable passage, with
+daring originality, sings of Mrs. Drury rapturously:
+
+                  'Her pure and eloquent soul
+    Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,
+    That one might almost say her body thought.'
+
+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 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:
+
+    'Incense of love's and fancie's _holy smoak_;'
+
+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):
+
+    'Leaue her ... the flaming heart:
+    Leaue her that, and thou shalt leaue her
+    Not one loose shaft, but Loue's whole quiver.
+    _For in Loue's feild was neuer found
+    A nobler weapon than a wovnd._
+    Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part,
+    The wounded is the wounding heart.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill,
+    And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still.'
+
+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 _Man_, 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 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:
+
+      'So, when the Year takes cold, we see
+      Poor waters _their own prisoners be;
+      Fetter'd and lock'd-up fast they lie
+      In a cold self-captivity_.
+    Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deplore,
+    To find themselves their own severer shoar.'
+
+Young is striking in his use of the ice-metaphor:
+
+                  'in Passion's flame
+    Hearts melt; but _melt like ice, soon harder froze_.'
+
+  (Night-Thoughts, N. II. l. 522-3.)
+
+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: _e.g._
+
+                  'Midnight veil'd his face:
+    Not such as this, not such as Nature makes;
+    A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold;
+    A midnight new; a dread eclipse, without
+    Opposing spheres, from her Creator's frown.'
+
+  (Night IV. ll. 246-250.)
+
+So in 'Gilt was Hell's gloom' (N. VII. l. 1041), and in this portrait of
+Satan:
+
+    'Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll
+    His baleful eyes!'       (N. IX. ll. 280-1.) and
+
+                  'the fiery gulf,
+    That flaming bound of wrath omnipotent;'  (Ib. ll. 473-4)
+
+and
+
+    'Banners streaming as the comet's blaze;' (Ib. l. 323)
+
+and
+
+    'Which makes a hell of hell,' (Ib. l. 340)
+
+we have the impress and inspiration of our Poet.
+
+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!--
+
+    'Peace, good Reader, doe not weep;
+    Peace, the louers are asleep.
+    They, sweet turtles, folded ly
+    In the last knott that Loue could ty.
+    And though they ly as they were dead,
+    Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead
+    (Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm),
+    Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm:
+    Let them sleep; let them sleep on,
+    Till this stormy night be gone,
+    And the æternall morrow dawn;
+    Then ...' (vol. i. pp. 230-1.)
+
+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):
+
+    'In bonds of love united, man and wife,
+    Long, yet too short, they spent a happy life;
+    United still, too soon, however late,
+    Both man and wife receiv'd the stroke of fate:
+    And now in glory clad, enraptur'd pair,
+    The same bright cup, the same sweet draught they share.
+    Thus, first and last, a married couple see,
+    In life, in death, in immortality.'
+
+There is much beauty also in an anonymous epitaph in the 'Festoon' 143,
+'On a Man and his Wife:'
+
+    'Here sleep, whom neither life nor love,
+      Nor friendship's strictest tie,
+    Could in such close embrace as thou,
+      Their faithful grave, ally;
+    Preserve them, each dissolv'd in each,
+      For bands of love divine,
+    For union only more complete,
+      Thou faithful grave, than thine.' (p. 253.)
+
+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 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):
+
+
+'HERBERT AND CRASHAW.
+
+
+    When unto Herbert's Temple I ascend
+    By Crashaw's Steps, I do resolve to mend
+    My lighter verse, and my low notes to raise,
+    And in high accent sing my Maker's praise.
+    Meanwhile these sacred poems in my sight
+    I place, that I may learn to write.'
+
+(_c_) _Epigrams._ 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.
+LIV. (2) and XI.; and continues with No. XIV., and next LIV. (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. I.[34] We too may give
+it:
+
+      '_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.' (vol. ii. p. 35.)
+
+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. XLII., 'containing a
+similar lesson;' and finally No. XLV. p. 196, whereof he says: 'The
+following is a world-wide intercession for them that know not what they
+do. 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).
+
+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. CXVII., '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):
+
+    'O cursèd Pilate, villain dyed in grain,
+    A little water cannot purge thy stain;
+    No, Tanaïs can't do't, nor yet the main.
+    Dost thou condemn a Deity to death,
+    Him whose mere love gave and preserv'd thy breath?'
+
+Similarly, under No. LI. 'On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness,' he has
+this: 'Some lines "To the Blessed Virgin at her Purification," by the
+old epigrammatist Bancroft, are almost as beautiful in sentiment as
+this exquisite piece (Book ii. 86):
+
+    Why, favourite of Heaven, most fair,
+    Dost thou bring fowls for sacrifice?
+    Will not the armful thou dost bear,
+    That lovely Lamb of thine, suffice?'
+
+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):
+
+    'When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine
+    Inspir'd cold water with the warmth of wine;
+    See! cried they, while in red'ning tide it gush'd,
+    The bashful stream hath seen its God, and _blush'd_.'
+
+Dryden's 'The conscious water saw its God, and blush'd,' is a mere
+remembrance of Crashaw.[35]
+
+(_d_) _Translations and (briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry._ 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 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:
+
+    Jam Sol a medio pronus deflexerat orbe
+    Mitius, e radiis vibrans crinalibus ignem.
+    Cum Fidicen, propter Tiberina fluenta, sonanti
+    Lenibat plectra curas, aestumque levabat,
+    Ilice defensus nigra scenaque virenti.
+    Audiit hunc hospes silvae Philomela propinquae
+    Musa loci, nemoris siren, innoxia siren;
+    Et prope succedens stetit abdita frondibus, alte
+    Accipiens sonitum, secumque remurmurat, et quos
+    Ille modos variat digitis, haec gutture reddit.
+    Sensit se Fidicen Philomela imitante referri,
+    Et placuit ludum volucri dare; plenius ergo
+    Explorat citharam, tentamentumque futurae
+    Praebeat ut pugnae, percussit protinus omnes
+    Impulsu pernice fides, nec segnius illa.
+    Mille per excurrens variae discrimina vocis,
+    Venturi specimen praefert argutula cantus.
+    Tunc Fidicen per fila movens trepidantia dextram,
+    Nunc contemnenti similis diverberat ungue,
+    Depectitque pari chordas, et simplice ductu:
+    Nunc carptim replicat, digitisque micantibus urget
+    Fila minutatim, celerique repercutit ictu.
+    Mox silet. Illa modis totidem respondet, et artem
+    Arte refert. Nunc seu rudis aut incerta canendi
+    Projicit in longum, nulloque plicatile flexu
+    Carmen init, simili serie, jugique tenore,
+    Praebet iter liquidum labenti e pectore voce;
+    Nunc caesim variat, modulisque canora minutis.
+    Delibrat vocem, tremuloque reciprocat ore.
+    Miratur Fidicen parvis e faucibus ire
+    Tam varium, tam dulce melos; majoraque tentans
+    Alternat mira arte fides; dum torquet acutas
+    Inciditque, graves operoso verbere pulsat,
+    Permiscetque simul certantia rauca sonoris,
+    Ceu resides in bella viros clangore lacessat.
+    Hoc etiam Philomela canit: dumque ore liquenti
+    Vibrat acuta sonum, modulisque interplicat acquis;
+    Ex inopinato gravis intonat, et leve murmur
+    Turbinat introrsus, alternantique sonore
+    Clarat, et infuscat ceu martia classica pulset.
+    Scilicet erubuit Fidicen, ...
+    Non imitabilibus plectrum concentibus urget.
+    Namque manu per fila volat, simul hos, simul illos
+    Explorat numeros, chordaque laborat in omni,
+    Et strepit, et tinnit, crescitque superbius, et se
+    Multiplicat religens, plenoque choreumate plaudit.[36]
+
+It will be noted by the student that such word-painting as in these
+lines belongs to Crashaw, not Strada:
+
+                            'and streightway she
+    _Carves out her dainty voyce as readily_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Through the sleeke passage of her open throat
+    _A clear unwrinckled song_;
+           .       .       .       .       .
+          closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all,
+    _Hoarce, shrill at once; as when the trumpets call
+    Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo
+    Men's hearts into their hands_:'
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                      staggers in a warbling doubt
+    _Of dallying sweetnesse_, hovers o'er her skill,
+    _And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                              a tide
+    Of streaming sweetnesse, _which in state doth ride
+    On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine,
+    Rising and falling in a pompous traine_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thus high, thus low, _as if her silver throat
+    Would reach the brazen voyce of War's hoarce bird_.
+
+        ... his hands sprightly as fire, he flings
+    And with _a quavering coynesse tasts the strings_.
+    The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted,
+    Singing their feares, are fearefully delighted,
+    _Trembling as when Appolo's golden haires
+    Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres
+    Of his own breath: which marryed to his lyre_
+    Doth tune the spheares.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                      with nectar drop,
+    _Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _The lute's light genius now does proudly rise,
+    Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes,_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone_.'
+
+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 MSS. 3910, pt. lxvi., from which we take
+a specimen:
+
+    'Now the declininge sunn 'gan downward bende
+    From higher heauene, and from his locks did sende
+    A milder flame; when neere to Tyber's flowe
+    A Lutaniste allayde his carefull woe,
+    With sondinge charmes, and in a greeny seate
+    Of shady oake, toke shelter from the heate.
+
+      A nitingale ore-hard hym that did use
+    To soiourne in y^e neighbour groues, the Muse
+    That files the place, the syren of the wood:
+    Poore harmeles Syren, steling neere she stood
+    Close lurkinge in the leaues attentiuely:
+    Recordinge that vnwonted mellodye,
+    She condt it to herselfe, and every straine
+    His fingers playde, her throat return'd againe.'
+
+And so to the end (MS. 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:
+
+    _Menaphon._ A sound of music touched mine ears, or rather,
+    Indeed, entranced my soul. As I stole nearer,
+    Invited by the melody, I saw
+    This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute,
+    With strains of strange variety and harmony,
+    Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challenge
+    To the clear choristers of the wood, the birds,
+    That as they flocked about him all stood silent,
+    Wondering at what they heard. I wondered too.
+
+    _Amethus._ And do so I: good, on.
+
+    _Men._                            A nightingale,
+    Nature's best-skilled musician, undertakes
+    The challenge, and for every several strain
+    The well-shaped youth could touch, she sung her own:
+    He could not run division with more art
+    Vpon his quaking instrument than she
+    The nightingale did with her various notes
+    Reply to: for a voice and for a sound,
+    Amethus, 'tis much easier to believe
+    That such they were, than hope to hear again.
+
+    _Ameth._ How did the rivals part?
+
+    _Men._                            You term them rightly.
+    For they were rivals, and their mistress, Harmony.
+    Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last
+    Into a pretty anger, that a bird,
+    Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes,
+    Should vie with him for mastery, whose study
+    Had busied many hours to perfect practice.
+    To end the controversy, in a rapture,
+    Vpon his instrument he plays so swiftly
+    So many voluntaries, and so quick,
+    That there was curiosity and cunning,
+    Concord in discord, lines of differing method
+    Meeting in one full centre of delight.
+
+    _Ameth._ Now for the bird.
+
+    _Men._                     The bird, ordained to be
+    Music's first master, strove to imitate
+    These several sounds; which when her warbling throat
+    Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute,
+    And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness,
+    To see the conqueror upon her hearse
+    To weep.[37]
+
+Comment is needless on such pale, empty literality, as compared with the
+vitality and _élan_ of Crashaw, in all but Ford's; while even Ford's is
+surpassed in every way by the 'Musick's Duell.'
+
+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. We prefer adducing
+Crashaw, and then giving a close rendering of the original: _e.g._
+
+    'He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,
+    _On which, as on a glorious stranger, gaz'd
+    The golden eyes of Night_.'      (st. xvii.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    '_He sees also shining from heaven,
+    With beauteous ray, the wondrous star_,
+    Which, brilliant and beautiful, goes
+    Pointing the way straight towards Bethlehem.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'He saw how in that blest Day-bearing Night,
+    The Heav'n-rebukèd shades made hast away;
+    _How bright a dawne of angels with new light
+    Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day
+    Of which the Morning knew not_.'      (st. xv.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    'He sees the quiet shades and the dark
+    Horrors of the happy, holy Night
+    Smitten and routed by heavenly voices,
+    And vanquished by angelic splendours.'
+
+Once more: when Alecto, the most terrible of the infernal sisters,
+ascends to Earth at the command of Satan:
+
+    'Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight:
+    The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more,
+    But shut their flowry lids for ever;'      (st. xlviii.)
+
+for
+
+    'Parvero i fiori intorno e la verdura
+    Sentir forza di peste, ira di verno;'
+
+literally:
+
+          'soon as Hell had vomited out
+    This monster from the dark abyss,
+    _The flowers all around and the verdure appeared
+    To feel the strength of the plague, the fury of winter_.'
+
+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, 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: _e.g._
+
+    '_And for the never-fading fields of light;_'      (st. xxvii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Che più può farmi omai chi la celeste
+    _Reggia mi tolse, e i regni i miei lucenti_?'
+
+literally:
+
+    'What more can He now do to me, Who took
+    _From me the heavenly palace and my bright realms_?'
+
+Again:
+
+    '_Bow our bright heads before a king of clay;_'      (st. xxviii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Volle alle forme sue semplici e prime,
+    Natura sovralzar corporea e bassa,
+    E de' membri del ciel capo sublime
+    Far di limo terrestre eterna massa;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'He turns to his simple primitive forms,
+    To raise Nature above the corporeal and low,
+    And to make an unworthy mass of earthly clay
+    The sublime head of the heavenly members.'
+
+Compare also st. x. in Crashaw with the original as literally rendered:
+
+    'Disdainefull wretch, how hath one bold sinne cost
+    Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes!
+    How hath _one black eclipse cancell'd and crost
+    The glories that did gild thee in thy rise!
+    Proud morning of a perverse day_, how lost
+    Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise
+      Narcissus! foolish Phaeton, who for all
+      Thy _high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall_.'
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'O wretched Angel, once fairer than light,
+    How thou hast lost thy primeval splendour!
+    Thou shalt have from the eternal Requiter
+    Deserved punishment for the unjust crime:
+    Proud admirer of thy honours,
+    Rebellious usurper of another's seat!
+    Transformed, and fallen into Phlegethon,
+    Proud Narcissus, impious Phaethon!'
+
+Milton takes from Crashaw, not Marino, in his portrait of the Destroyer:
+
+    'From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre
+    This mortall enemy to mankind's good
+    Lifts his _malignant eyes, wasted with care,
+    To become beautifull in humane blood_.'      (st. xi.)
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'He from the shades of death to the living air,
+    Envious in truth of our human state,
+    Lifted aloft his eyes by where
+    The hollow vent-hole opened straight down.'
+
+Well-nigh innumerable single lines and words are inevitably marked:
+_e.g._
+
+                        'the rebellious eye
+    Of sorrow.'      (st. xlix.)
+
+So the eyes of Satan:
+
+            'the sullen dens of Death and Night
+    Startle the dull ayre with a dismal red;'      (st. vii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Negli occhi ove mestizia alberga e morte,
+    Luce fiammeggia torbida e vermiglia;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'In the eyes where sadness dwells and death
+    A turbid vermilion-coloured light shines.'
+
+Again: the sun is seen by the Tempter to
+
+    Make proud the ruby portalls of the East;'      (st. xvi.)
+
+for 'la Reggia Oriental.' Crashaw has the same vivid fancy in the Hymn
+for Epiphany:
+
+          'Aurora shall set ope
+    Her ruby casements.'
+
+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:
+
+    'Under the abysses, at the very core of the world,
+    In the central point of the universe,
+    Within the bowers of the darkest deep,
+    There stands the fiendly perverse Spirit:
+    With sharp thongs an impure group
+    Binds him with a hundred snakes athwart:
+    With such bonds girds him for ever,
+    The great champion who conquered HIM in Paradise.'
+
+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:
+
+          'no rapture makes it live
+    Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,
+    Whose feet can walke the Milky Way,
+    Her starry throne, and hold up an exalted arm
+    To lift me from my lazy urn and climbe
+    Upon the stoopèd shoulders of old Time,
+    And trace eternity.'      (vol. i. p. 238.)[38]
+
+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' (_ib._ pp.
+223-5). It is profoundly to be regretted that our Poet should have
+limited himself to Book I. of the 'Strage degli Innocenti,' viz.
+'Sospetto d'Herode.' Book VII. especially, 'Della Gerusalemme Distruta,'
+would have demanded all his powers. The entire poem was 'done in
+English,' and it is '_done_' (by T.R. 1675).
+
+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 _thought_ of Crashaw; and, unless I egregiously
+mistake, we have together earned some gratitude from admirers of our
+Worthy.
+
+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.
+
+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 the
+typical corrections that I felt obliged to make, and note other lapses
+which I did not feel justified in altering.
+
+    In XI. last line, ἀπέῤῥιπτον for ἀπόῤῥιπτον; CXXI. last line,
+    ἐην for ἔη; CXXV. line 5. κεῖν' for κεῖν; CLXXX. line 1 has
+    πλάνη as if the penult were long instead of short, and ἄλημι an
+    unused form, so that the line offends both quantity and usage--it
+    might be amended thus, Εἷς μὲν ἐγὼ, ᾗ μού τε πλάνη περιῆγεν,
+    ἀλῶμαι; CLXXXII. line 1, ἐπέβαλλεν for ἐπίβαλλεν; CLXXXIII.
+    line 2, συκόμωρε should be συκόμορε, but altered for scansion;
+    line 3, ἐκκρήμνης should perhaps be ἐκκρημνὰς; line 4,
+    unscanable; and in CXXV. line 4, δασίοις should be δασέσιν.
+    οὐρανὸς, the penult of which is short, he uses as either long or
+    short.
+
+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.
+
+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. RICHARD CRASHAW
+has assuredly not yet gathered all his fame.[39]
+
+  ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
+
+
+
+
+  Latin Poems.
+
+  PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+  (1634-1670.)
+
+
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The earliest appearance of CRASHAW 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:
+
+
+
+
+  EPIGRAM-
+
+  MATUM
+
+  SACRORUM
+
+  LIBER.
+
+
+  University Printer's ornament,
+  with legend, 'Hinc. Lvcem. Et.
+  Pocula. Sacra.' and 'Alma Mater.'
+
+
+  Cantabrigiæ,
+  Ex Academiæ celeberrimæ
+  typographeo. 1634.
+
+    This is a small duodecimo. Collation: Title-page--Epistle-dedicatory
+    to LANY, 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.
+
+
+
+
+A second edition of this volume appeared in 1670. Its title-page is as
+follows:
+
+  RICHARDI CRASHAWI
+
+  POEMATA
+
+  et
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA,
+
+  Quæ scripsit Latina & Græca,
+  Dum _Aulæ Pemb._ Alumnus fuit,
+  Et
+  Collegii _Petrensis_ Socius.
+
+
+  Editio Secunda, Auctior & emendatior.
+
+
+  Εἵνεκεν εὐμαθίης πινυτόφρονος, ἥν ὁ Μελιχρὸς
+  Ἤσκησεν, Μουσῶν ἄμμιγα καὶ Χαρίτων.      Ἀνθολ.
+
+  [Printer's ornament, as before.]
+
+  Cantabrigiæ,
+  Ex Officina _Joan. Hayes_, Celeberrimæ Academiæ
+  Typographi. 1670.
+
+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, 'Epigrammata Sacra, quæ scripsit
+Græca et Latina'--Lectori (as before), nine leaves: Epigrammata Sacra,
+pp. 67.
+
+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.
+
+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 _Joann. Creed_.' Probably consisted of
+'remainders' of 1670 edition.
+
+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 THOMAS ASHE, M.A.,
+Ipswich; B., CLEMENT BARKSDALE (from 'Epigrammata Sacra selecta, cum
+Anglicâ Versione. Sacred Epigrams Englished. London: Printed for John
+Barksdale, Bookseller in Cirencester. 1682.' 12mo); CL., Rev. J.H.
+CLARK, M.A., West Dereham, Norfolk; CR., CRASHAW himself; G., myself;
+W., Rev. W. ARIS WILLMOTT (from his 'Lives of the Sacred Poets,' s.n.
+Crashaw); and R. WI., Rev. RICHARD WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory,
+Market Weighton. In the present and succeeding division those 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.
+
+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.
+
+In the Epistle to Lany, line 18, avidi _for_ avide; line 29, amore _for_
+amare; in the Ode, st. ii. line 1, ipsi _for_ ipse. In the address
+'Lectori,' line 7, abi _for_ alis; line 29, putre _for_ putri; line 48,
+mens _for_ meus; line 53, fingit _for_ finget; line 70, graves _for_
+gravis; line 97, tota dropped out; line 120, negat _for_ neget; in
+succeeding prose, line 29, Acygmanos _for_ acygnianos.
+
+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.
+
+   No.
+
+    1, line 4, ille _for_ hic.
+
+    2, heading, Victorem _for_ vectorem.
+
+    3, l. 1, ori _for_ oris.
+
+    6, l. 2, meæ _for_ mea.
+
+    7, l. 4, tanto _for_ tanti.
+
+    8, l. 1, vulnere _for_ vulnera.
+
+   10, l. 1, tumidus _for_ timidus.
+
+   12, heading, Luc. x. 30 _for_ x. 39; and so often.
+
+   19, l. 4, decas _for_ decus.
+
+   30, l. 3, Te ne _for_ Tene.
+
+   31, heading, credebunt _for_ credebant.
+
+   44, l. 1, tumere _for_ tenuere.
+
+   45, l. 2, mala _for_ male.
+
+   48, l. 1, Christe _for_ Christi.
+
+   60, l. 4, fecere _for_ fuere.
+
+   65, l. 7, adnixus _for_ ad nixus.
+
+   67, l. 1, Infantes _for_ infantis.
+
+   69, heading, meditur _for_ medetur.
+
+   78, l. 2, pati _for_ peti.
+
+  101, l. 4, aqua _for_ aquas.
+
+  108, l. 8, oculos _for_ oculus.
+
+  111, l. 3, natalis _for_ natales.
+
+  114, l. 2, utere _for_ uteri.
+
+  115, l. 4, queas _for_ queat.
+
+  120, heading, Domini _for_ Dominicam.
+
+   "   l. 6, Phœbe _for_ Phœbo.
+
+  122, heading, traduit _for_ traderet.
+
+  123, l. 2, nescis _for_ nescio.
+
+  125, l. 1, volueris _for_ volucris.
+
+  126, heading, Divi _for_ Divo.
+
+  132, heading, Christo _for_ Christi.
+
+  135, heading left out.
+
+  140, l. 2, illa _for_ ille.
+
+  149, l. 2, quae _for_ qua.
+
+  153, l. 3, colubres _for_ colubros.
+
+  155, heading, Domini _for_ Dominicæ.
+
+  158, l. 3, par _for_ per.
+
+  161, l. 8, fieris _for_ fieres.
+
+   "   l. 12, solis _for_ solio.
+
+  164, l. 1, Daemone _for_ Dæmona.
+
+  169, heading, lavante _for_ lavanti.
+
+   "   l. 2, virginea _for_ virgineæ.
+
+  170, l. 5, decies _for_ denis.
+
+  172, l. 1, vidis _for_ vides.
+
+  176, l. 16, dominum _for_ dominam.
+
+   "   l. 73, ista _for_ iste.
+
+  177, l. 20, metu _for_ nutu.
+
+  182, l. 2, fide _for_ fida.
+
+The whole of these, with others belonging to Crashaw himself and his
+first editors, are carefully corrected in our edition. G.
+
+
+
+
+REVERENDO ADMODUM VIRO
+
+BENJAMINO LANY,[40]
+
+SS. THEOLOGIAE PROFESSORI, AULAE PEMBROCHIANAE CUSTODI DIGNISSIMO, EX
+SUORUM MINIMIS MINIMUS,
+
+R. C[RASHAW]
+
+CUSTODIAM COELESTEM
+
+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 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 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:
+
+    Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,
+    Per quem erudito exhalat in otio;
+        Seu frigus udi captet antri,
+            Sive Jovem nitidosque soles.
+
+    Non ipse custos pulchrior invias
+    Egit sub umbras Aemonios greges;
+        Non ipse Apollo notus illis
+            Lege suae meliore cannae.
+
+    Tu, si sereno des oculo frui,
+    Sunt rura nobis, sunt juga, sunt aquae,
+        Sunt plectra dulcium sororum
+            (Non alio mihi nota Phoebo).
+
+    Te dante, castos composuit sinus;
+    Te dante, mores sumpsit; et in suo
+        Videnda vultu, pulveremque
+            Relligio cineremque nescit.
+
+    Stat cincta digna fronde decens caput:
+    Suosque per te fassa palam Deos,
+        Comisque, Diva, vestibusque
+            Ingenium dedit ordinemque.
+
+    Jamque ecce nobis amplior es modo
+    Majorque cerni. Quale jubar tremit
+        Sub os! verecundusque quanta
+            Mole sui Genius laborat!
+
+    Jam qui serenas it tibi per genas,
+    Majore coelo sidus habet suum;
+        Majorque circum cuspidatae
+            Ora comis tua flos diei.
+
+    Stat causa. Nempe hanc ipse Deus, Deus,
+    Hanc ara, per te pulchra, diem tibi
+        Tuam refundit, obvioque
+            It radio tibi se colenti.
+
+    Ecce, ecce! sacro in limine, dum pio
+    Multumque prono poplite amas humum,
+        Altaria annuunt ab alto;
+            Et refluis tibi plaudit alis
+
+    Pulchro incalescens officio, puer
+    Quicunque crispo sidere crinium,
+        Vultuque non fatente terram,
+            Currit ibi roseus satelles.
+
+    Et jure. Nam cum fana tot inviis
+    Moerent ruinis, ipsaque, ceu preces
+        Manusque non decora supplex
+            Tendat, opem rogat, heu negatam!
+
+    Tibi ipsa voti est ora sui rea.
+    Et solvet. O quam semper apud Deum
+        Litabis illum, cujus arae
+            Ipse preces prius audiisti!
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Prose G.; verse CL.]
+
+    _To the very reverend man_ BENJAMIN LANY, _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._[41]
+
+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 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
+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 sacred things that have been honoured amongst us, to fly towards you
+with a strain of such kind as this, whatever it may be:
+
+    Kind Guardian of the Muses' flock,
+      Through whom it breathes in learn'd repose,
+    Whether it choose the dripping rock,
+      Or where the open sunshine glows.
+
+    Not fairer he through trackless shade
+      Who led Æmonia's flocks of old;
+    Not even Apollo, when he play'd,
+      With defter touch could charm the fold.
+
+    If thou the eye serene dost grant,
+      Green fields are ours, and streams and hills,
+    And, since no Phœbus else we want,
+      The Muses with their dulcet quills.
+
+    Religion too with modest grace
+      Through thee assumes a gentler mien;
+    Through thee again can show her face,
+      No more in dust and ashes seen.
+
+    Her brows crown'd meetly, and, through thee,
+      Her God in sight of all confess'd,
+    She gives in her divinity
+      Meaning and law to garb and vest.
+
+    Lo, while we gaze, an ample state
+      Adorns thee; what a lustrous sheen
+    Plays on thy lips! with what a weight
+      Thy reverent Genius toils within!
+
+    For him on whom thy calm glance flows
+      His star sheds down a fuller ray;
+    The light that o'er thine aspect glows
+      Is brighter than the shafts of Day.
+
+    And there is cause. The Lord of heaven,
+      Whose altar thou hast made so fair,
+    Pours back the light that thou hast given,
+      With glory meets His worshipper.
+
+    Lo, on the threshold of thy God
+      While thou dost stoop on bended knee,
+    The altar from on high doth nod,
+      Its plausive wings are bent to thee.
+
+    And, glowing with his duty's worth,
+      Each starry-tressèd chorister
+    With look that savours not of earth
+      Tends like a rosy cherub there.
+
+    And rightly. For, when ruin-wreck'd,
+      With prayers and outstretch'd hands the fane
+    Bemoan'd itself in all neglect,
+      And sought elsewhere for help in vain,--
+
+    To thee by its own vows 'tis bound,
+      And now repays thee. At the shrine
+    Whose cry so well thy ears hath found
+      Long, long may prayer and praise be thine!
+
+
+
+
+LECTORI.
+
+
+    Salve. Jamque vale. Quid enim quis pergeret ultra?
+      Qua jocus et lusus non vocat, ire voles?
+    Scilicet hic, Lector, cur noster habebere, non est;
+      Deliciis folio non faciente tuis.
+    Nam nec Acidalios halat mihi pagina rores;
+      Nostra Cupidineae nec favet aura faci.
+    Frustra hinc ille suis quicquam promiserit alis:
+      Frustra hinc illa novo speret abire sinu.
+    Ille e materna melius sibi talia myrto;
+      Illa jugis melius poscat ab Idaliis.
+    Quaerat ibi suus in quo cespite surgat Adonis,
+      Quae melior teneris patria sit violis.
+    Illinc totius Florae, verisque, suique
+      Consilio, ille alas impleat, illa sinus.
+    Me mea, casta tamen, si sit rudis, herba coronet:
+      Me mea, si rudis est, sit rudis, herba juvat.
+    Nulla meo Circaea tument tibi pocula versu:
+      Dulcia, et in furias officiosa tuas.
+    Nulla latet Lethe, quam fraus tibi florea libat,
+      Quam rosa sub falsis dat malefida genis.
+    Nulla verecundum mentitur mella venenum:
+      Captat ab insidiis linea nulla suis.
+    Et spleni, et jecori foliis bene parcitur istis.
+      Ah, male cum rebus staret utrumque meis!
+    Rara est quae ridet, nulla est quae pagina prurit,
+      Nulla salax, si quid norit habere salis.
+    Non nudae Veneres, nec, si jocus, udus habetur:
+      Non nimium Bacchus noster Apollo fuit.
+    Nil cui quis putri sit detorquendus ocello;
+      Est nihil obliquo quod velit ore legi.
+    Haec coram atque oculis legeret Lucretia justis;
+      Iret et illaesis hinc pudor ipse genis.
+    Nam neque candidior voti venit aura pudici
+      De matutina virgine thura ferens:
+    Cum vestis nive vincta sinus, nive tempora fulgens,
+      Dans nive flammeolis frigida jura comis,
+    Religiosa pedum sensim vestigia librans,
+      Ante aras tandem constitit, et tremuit.
+    Nec gravis ipsa suo sub numine castior halat
+      Quae pia non puras summovet ara manus.
+    Tam Venus in nostro non est nimis aurea versu:
+      Tam non sunt pueri tela timenda dei.
+    Saepe puer dubias circum me moverat alas,
+      Jecit et incertas nostra sub ora faces;
+    Saepe vel ipse sua calamum mihi blandus ab ala,
+      Vel matris cygno de meliore dedit;
+    Saepe Dionaeae pactus mihi serta coronae;
+      Saepe: Meus vates tu, mihi dixit, eris.
+    I procul, i cum matre tua, puer improbe, dixi:
+      Non tibi cum numeris res erit ulla meis.
+    Tu Veronensi cum passere pulchrior ibis:
+      Bilbilicisve queas comptius esse modis.
+    Ille tuos finget quocunque sub agmine crines:
+      Undique nequitiis par erit ille tuis.
+    Ille nimis, dixi, patet in tua proelia campus:
+      Heu, nimis est vates et nimis ille tuus!
+    Gleba illa, ah, tua quam tamen urit adultera messis!
+      Esset Idumaeo germine quanta parens!
+    Quantus ibi et quantae premeret puer ubera matris!
+      Nec coelos vultu dissimulante suos.
+    Ejus in isto oculi satis essent sidera versu;
+      Sidereo matris quam bene tuta sinu!
+    Matris ut hic similes in collum mitteret ulnas,
+      Inque sinus niveos pergeret, ore pari;
+    Utque genis pueri haec aequis daret oscula labris,
+      Et bene cognatis iret in ora rosis;
+    Quae Mariae tam larga meat, quam disceret illic
+      Uvida sub pretio gemma tumere suo!
+    Staret ibi ante suum lacrymatrix Diva Magistrum:
+      Seu levis aura volet, seu gravis unda cadat;
+    Luminis haec soboles, et proles pyxidis illa,
+      Pulchrius unda cadat, suavius aura volet.
+    Quicquid in his sordet demum, luceret in illis.
+      Improbe, nec satis est hunc tamen esse tuum?
+    Improbe, cede, puer: quid enim mea carmina mulces?
+      Carmina de jaculis muta futura tuis.
+    Cede, puer, qua te petulantis fraena puellae;
+      Turpia quae revocant pensa procacis herae;
+    Qua miseri male pulchra nitent mendacia limi;
+      Qua cerussatae, furta decora, genae;
+    Qua mirere rosas, alieni sidera veris;
+      Quas nivis haud propriae bruma redempta domat.
+    Cede, puer, dixi et dico; cede, improba mater:
+      Altera Cypris habet nos; habet alter Amor.
+    Scilicet hic Amor est; hic est quoque mater Amoris.
+      Sed Mater virgo; sed neque caecus Amor.
+    O Puer! ô Domine! ô magnae reverentia Matris,
+      Alme tui stupor et relligio gremii!
+    O Amor, innocuae cui sunt pia jura pharetrae,
+      Nec nisi de casto corde sagitta calens!
+    Me, Puer, ô certa, quem figis, fige sagitta;
+      O tua de me sit facta pharetra levis!
+    Quodque illinc sitit et bibit, et bibit et sitit usque;
+      Usque meum sitiat pectus, et usque bibat.
+    Fige, Puer, corda haec. Seu spinis exiguus quis,
+      Seu clavi aut hastae cuspide magnus ades;
+    Seu major cruce cum tota; seu maximus ipso
+      Te corda haec figis denique; fige, Puer.
+    O metam hanc tuus aeternum inclamaverit arcus:
+      Stridat in hanc teli densior aura tui.
+    O tibi si jaculum ferat ala ferocior ullum,
+      Hanc habeat triti vulneris ire viam.
+    Quique tuae populus cunque est, quae turba, pharetrae;
+      Hic bene vulnificas nidus habebit aves.
+    O mihi sis bello semper tam saevus in isto!
+      Pectus in hoc nunquam mitior hostis eas.
+    Quippe ego quam jaceam pugna bene sparsus in illa!
+      Quam bene sic lacero pectore sanus ero!
+    Haec mea vota. Mei sunt haec quoque vota libelli.
+      Haec tua sint, Lector, si meus esse voles.
+    Si meus esse voles, meus ut sis, lumina, Lector,
+      Casta, sed ô nimium non tibi sicca, precor.
+    Nam tibi fac madidis meus ille occurrerit alis,
+      Sanguine, seu lacryma diffluat ille sua:
+    Stipite totus hians, clavisque reclusus, et hasta:
+      Fons tuus in fluvios desidiosus erit?
+    Si tibi sanguineo meus hic tener iverit amne,
+      Tune tuas illi, dure, negabis aquas?
+    Ah durus! quicunque meos, nisi siccus, amores
+      Nolit, et hic lacrymae rem neget esse suae.
+    Saepe hic Magdalinas vel aquas vel amaverit undas;
+      Credo nec Assyrias mens tua malit opes.
+    Scilicet ille tuos ignis recalescet ad ignes;
+      Forsan et illa tuis unda natabit aquis.
+    Hic eris ad cunas, et odoros funere manes:
+      Hinc ignes nasci testis, et inde meos.
+    Hic mecum, et cum matre sua, mea gaudia quaeres:
+      Maturus Procerum seu stupor esse velit;
+    Sive per antra sui lateat, tunc templa, sepulchri:
+      Tertia lux reducem, lenta sed illa, dabit.
+    Sint fidae precor, ah, dices, facilesque tenebrae;
+      Lux mea dum noctis, res nova! poscit opem.
+    Denique charta meo quicquid mea dicat amori,
+      Illi quo metuat cunque, fleatve, modo,
+    Laeta parum, dices, haec, sed neque dulcia non sunt:
+      Certe et amor, dices, hujus amandus erat.
+
+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 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.
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Verse and Prose, G.]
+
+TO THE READER.
+
+    'Greeting,' Reader; and now 'farewell'!
+    Wherefore shouldst thou on my page dwell,
+    Where neither jest nor sport inviteth,
+    That the jocund youth delighteth?
+    Therefore, Reader, pass thee by
+    To thine own idle jollity:
+    The notes that trill from my poor lute
+    Such as thee shall never suit;
+    Nor here are Acidalian dews
+    That Venus' roses sweet suffuse;
+    Nor breath sets Cupid's torch a-blaze
+    That lovers on my lines may gaze.
+    Vainly shall mother and shall son
+    Look here for lewd emotion.
+    Cupid, seek thy mother's kirtle,
+    Or hide thee 'neath her fragrant myrtle.
+    And, Venus, thy Idalian hills
+    Will better yield thee sport that thrills:
+    Thither, therefore, goddess, turn;
+    O'er thy lost Adonis burn;
+    Or devise, if grief thee frets,
+    Other shrines for thy violets:
+    There, with Flora and the Spring
+    The green earth enamelling,
+    Thou mayst fill thy bosom's whiteness,
+    He his wings in all their brightness,
+    With all flow'rs that wait on thee
+    When thou holdest revelry.
+    Me my own poor flow'r will crown;
+    Poor 'tis true, yet all my own--
+    Poor but pure. So let it be,
+    Those unto others, this to me.
+    No Circe-cup foams in my verse,
+    To make fierce lustings still more fierce;
+    No draft of Lethe here doth flow,
+    Flow'ry above, deathly below;
+    No false cheeks, with falser bloom--
+    A rose up-bursting from a tomb;
+    No barb hid 'neath treach'rous plume;
+    No poison spread as honey'd bait;
+    No line where danger lies in wait:
+    Here's nor spleen nor melancholy,
+    That for me were unmeet wholly;
+    Rarely do I raise a smile,
+    Ne'er merge my wit in wanton wile;
+    Never quicken Passion's pulse,
+    Nor show nude Beauty to convulse,
+    Until beneath the hoof o' th' flesh
+    The strong man bound is in Lust's mesh.
+    If jest I pass, do not repine
+    To learn it reeks not of the wine;
+    For my Apollo is celestial,
+    And from Bacchus shrinks as bestial.
+    Nothing that's foul my page contains;
+    Nothing the modest eye arraigns;
+    Nothing to cause averted face--
+    Lucretia every line might trace
+    With calm, serene, unfearing eye,
+    Nor blush stain cheek of Modesty.
+    For not more pure the maiden's vow[42]
+    Whisper'd in tremulous words and low,
+    As, girt in snowy robe, her breast
+    Heaves like a wave in sweet unrest,
+    And the white veil shows whiter brow
+    In pureness of unfallen snow,
+    With flame-gleam from meek-droppèd hair
+    Dishevell'd by the am'rous air:
+    Soft strains with her soft voice blending,
+    The marriage-rites to heaven ascending:
+    Yea, not the altar's self exhaleth
+    More chastely, as its God it haileth,
+    That keeps far off unholy hands
+    While there the priest with bow'd head stands.
+    My verse is not the Queen of Love's,
+    Nor knows the cooing of her doves:
+    Her beauty me not overpowers,
+    Though bright as skies when no cloud low'rs;
+    Vainly at me her tricksy boy
+    His arrows shoots. The sweet annoy
+    I never felt; though oft and oft
+    He hover'd o'er me, and with soft,
+    Sly, 'luring glances his torch wav'd,
+    And look'd to find me swift enslav'd;
+    Offer'd a quill from his own wing,
+    E'en from his mother's swan--to sing;
+    Ay, often Venus' love-wreaths weaving,
+    On my brow the symbol leaving:
+    He would laugh, and Poet style me,
+    And with flatteries beguile me:
+    'Begone, begone, O wanton boy!
+    Thy mother too, though Queen of Joy.'
+    Thus did I speak. Naught of my song
+    Shall thy tyranny prolong:
+    Get thee, with thy torch and arrow,
+    Unto the Veronian sparrow;                    _Catullus_
+    Or the Bilbilician win                         _Martial_
+    To embalm thy pleasant sin:
+    Be thy assaults however vile,
+    He on thee will smile, and smile:
+    He, thy love-locks curious twining,
+    Shall ne'er come short of thy inclining:
+    He thine own poet is, and will
+    Give thee full license to instill
+    By jest and quip and jollity
+    Whate'er it listeth thee to try.
+    Alas, that genius so august
+    Should pander to adult'rous lust!
+    Alas, that he, poet so true,
+    Should poet be, Cupid, to you!
+    O, what harvest of rich thought
+    Judean seed from him had brought,
+    If, up-climbing holy mountains,
+    He had drunk from hallow'd fountains!
+    Mother and son, I see them now,
+    As round her neck his arms he'd throw,
+    Nestling with his azure eyes,
+    Her bosom's splendour for his skies;
+    Kissing, and kiss'd in sweet reply,
+    As soft winds o'er violets die:
+    While she all her love discloses,
+    Murm'ring on his lips' twin roses:
+    His lips like hers, and hers like his,
+    Glued i' the rapture of their bliss.
+    Visions like these would Martial give
+    With dainty touch and fugitive.
+    The heav'nly Weeper there would bow
+    Before her Lord, and pay her vow:
+    Now is uttered gentle sigh,
+    And now great tears gleam in her eye:
+    That, offspring of the stainless Light;
+    This, of the Pyx's mystic rite:
+    In his verse, tears, sighs should fall
+    Delicate and musical:
+    In fine, whate'er in mine were mean
+    Should radiant grow as sunlight's sheen.
+    Go, then, go, insatiate boy,
+    Nor me longer seek t' annoy:
+    I've said it, nor shall e'er unsay:
+    Go to thy mother, and there play.
+    Why wilt thou whisper flattery,
+    And praise my Muse's witchery--
+    Verses that reck not of thy smarts--
+    And smite me with thy fire-tipp'd darts?
+    Go, get thee gone! Thy haunt must be
+    Where there's wanton revelry,
+    And the young minx with toss o' curls
+    Opes her lips to show her pearls;
+    Opes her lips, with some gross jest
+    A foolish lover to arrest.
+    Thither go, where falsely-fair
+    Beauty is bought and sold; and where,
+    Flaunting with painted cheek, and eye
+    A-flame to ev'ry devilry,
+    Base women seek base men, and tingle
+    Their hot veins as they commingle,
+    Baring their charms, 'neath alien roses
+    Ministering such sweets as Hell composes.
+    Hence, therefore, Cupid! Venus, hence!
+    I yield not to your violence:
+    I've said it, nor shall you allure
+    My heart to own your sway impure.
+    Another Cypris holds me now,
+    Another Love receives my vow:
+    For Love is here and Mother kind,
+    But she a Virgin; He not blind.
+    O Child! O Lord! great Mother blest!
+    O wonder of thy holy breast!
+    O Love, whose quiver's sacred pow'rs
+    Ne'er send forth arrow that devours,
+    Unless a shaft pierce the pure heart,
+    That Thou mayst heal the blessèd smart.
+    Me whom Thou piercest, holy Child,
+    Pierce, pierce me sure with arrows mild.
+    Let Thy quiver grow more light
+    As Thou dost me yearning smite:
+    What my soul pants for, and still drinks
+    And drinks, and thirsts, and never thinks
+    To get enough, O give, still give.
+    Thus would I die; thus would I live.
+    Transfix this heart, Child: howsoe'er
+    Thou comest,--crown'd with thorns and bare,
+    Or great with the awful heraldry
+    Of nail and spear for Faith to see;
+    Or greater still, on the holy rood
+    Wet with the terror of Thy Blood;
+    Or great'st of all, Thyself alone
+    In meek might of Thy Passion,--
+    Still pierce this heart; O pierce it, Child:
+    _Thus_ would I drink in rapture wild.
+    O that Thy bow might wound me still!
+    O that of wounds I had my fill!
+    Or, if some swifter wing there be,
+    That it would fly to me--to me!
+    Behold, my Saviour, this poor breast,
+    And take it as Thine arrows' nest:
+    I seek not to be spar'd one blow:
+    Thus would I have Thee still my foe;
+    Still yearn that wounded I may be;
+    For wounds like these are ecstasy.
+    These are my wishes: and my Books,
+    May they be his who on them looks!
+    Seek'st, Reader, to be mine? Then, last,
+    I ask thy eyes that they be chaste;
+    Chaste, but not tearless; my dear Love
+    To meet and know, as from above
+    He comes, and still the Crucified,
+    Proclaiming how for man He died
+    By thorn, and nail, and spear, and cry,
+    And bitterest words of agony:
+    Say, should He meet thee thus in blood,
+    Couldst thou e'en grudge of tears a flood?
+    Ah, hard thy heart as e'er was stone,
+    That all unmov'd can hear Him groan,
+    Nor by a throb of feeling show
+    Thou hast a sense of His great woe;
+    While here He treasured human tears
+    Hushing sad Mary in her fears,
+    As to His feet in shame she crept,
+    And with white drops them all bewept:
+    More than Assyrian gold to thee
+    Such tears, if thou their worth couldst see.
+    His love with thine again will glow,
+    His tears afresh with thine will flow.
+    Here, Reader, glancing through my Book,
+    Thou shalt upon His cradle look:
+    To His sweet obsequies now turn,
+    And mark how still my love shall burn.
+    Here, with His Mother and with me,
+    My ceaseless sacred joys shalt see:
+    Whether Earth's Princes speechless stand
+    As sudden darkness wraps the land;
+    Or He lies hidden in the Cave,
+    A temple now, and not a grave;
+    But the third morning shall restore Him:
+    Ah, much too slow those days pass o'er Him!
+    Be true, ye shadows of the tomb;
+    Enfold Him in a kindly gloom:
+    Thus wilt thou pray; while my dear Light
+    (O strange!) demands the help of Night.
+    In fine, whate'er my Book shall say
+    To my dear Love--however pray,
+    However fear, however weep,
+    And with sweet tears its pages steep--
+    My words thy willing words will move.
+    'O, not enough these things I love;
+    But they are sweet all things above;
+    And certainly the love of Him
+    Deserves all other loves to dim.'
+
+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 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, 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!
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Pharisaeus et Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 14-19.
+
+    En duo templum adeunt, diversis mentibus ambo.
+      Ille procul trepido lumine signat humum:
+    It gravis hic, et in alta ferox penetralia tendit.
+      Plus habet hic templi; plus habet ille Dei.
+
+    Ἄνδρες, ἰδοὺ, ἑτέροισι νόοις, δύω ἱρὸν ἐσῆλθον.
+      Τηλόθεν ὀῤῥωδεῖ κεῖνος ὁ φρικαλέος·
+    Ἀλλ' ὁ μὲν ὡς σοβαρὸς νηοῦ μυχὸν ἐγγὺς ἱκάνει·
+      Πλεῖον ὁ μὲν νηοῦ, πλεῖον ὁ δ' εἶχε Θεοῦ.
+
+_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.                        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Two men unto the Temple went to pray.
+    That, with a downcast look, stood far away;
+    This, near the altar, himself highly bore:
+    This of the Temple, that of God hath more.            B.
+
+
+II.
+
+_In asinum Christi vectorem._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille[43] suum didicit quondam objurgare magistrum:
+      Et quid ni discas tu celebrare tuum?
+    Mirum non minus est, te jam potuisse tacere,
+      Illum quam fuerat tum potuisse loqui.
+
+_Upon the asse that bore our Saviour._
+
+    Hath only Anger an omnipotence
+                        In eloquence?
+    Within the lips of Love and Joy doth dwell
+                        No miracle?
+    Why else had Balaam's asse a tongue to chide
+                        His master's pride,
+    And thou, heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne're a word
+                        To praise thy Lord?
+    That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder
+                        Was a great wonder;
+    But O, methinkes, 'tis a farre greater one
+                        That thou find'st none.          CR.
+
+MORE CLOSELY.
+
+    The ass of old had power to chide its wilful lord;
+    And hast not thou the power to speak one praiseful word?
+    Not less a marvel, sure, this silence is in thee
+    Than that the ass of old to speak had liberty.        G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_Dominus apud suos vilis._ Luc. iv. 28-29.
+
+    En consanguinei! patriis en exul in oris
+      Christus! et haud alibi tam peregrinus erat.
+    Qui socio demum pendebat sanguine latro,
+      O consanguineus quam fuit ille magis!
+
+_The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people._
+
+    See, O my kinsmen, what strange thing is this!
+    Christ in's own country a great stranger is.
+    The thief which bled upon the Cross with Thee
+    Was more ally'd in consanguinity.[44]                 B.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_Ad Bethesdae piscinam positus._ Joan. v. 1-16.
+
+    Quis novus hic refugis incumbit Tantalus undis,
+      Quem fallit toties tam fugitiva salus?
+    Unde hoc naufragium felix medicaeque procellae,
+      Vitaque tempestas quam pretiosa dedit?
+
+_The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda._
+
+    What Tantalus is this, who health still craves
+    So oft, yet vainly, from the refluent waves?
+    And whence this happy wreck, this healing strife,
+    This storm that drifts its victim into life?         CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What new Tantalus is here,
+      Couch'd by this swift-ebbing wave,
+    Whom the healing flood comes near,
+      Then retiring fails to save?
+
+    O, what happy shipwreck this,
+      And a cure by conflict wrought!
+    Strange that woe should thus win bliss,
+      From disaster life be brought!                      G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Christus ad Thomam._ Joan. xx. 26-29.
+
+    Saeva fides, voluisse meos tractare dolores!
+      Crudeles digiti, sic didicisse Deum!
+    Vulnera ne dubites, vis tangere nostra: sed, eheu,
+      Vulnera, dum dubitas, tu graviora facis.
+
+_Christ to Thomas._
+
+    Harsh faith, and wouldst thou probe these signs of woe?
+    O cruel fingers, would ye prove God so?
+    Touch them, lest thou shouldst doubt? Then have thy will;
+    But, ah, thy doubting makes them deeper still.       CL.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O cruel faith, afresh my pangs to move!
+    O ruthless fingers, thus their Lord to prove!
+    See, touch the wounds; doubt not; but with such doubt
+    Thou makest all those wounds afresh gush out.         A.
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Quisquis perdiderit animam suam mea causa inveniet eam._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    I, vita, i, perdam: mihi mors tua, Christe, reperta est:
+      Mors tua vita mea est; mors tibi vita mea.
+    Aut ego te abscondam Christi, mea vita, sepulchro:
+      Non adeo procul est tertius ille dies.
+
+_Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it._
+
+    Away, my life! Lord Christ, I have Thy death:
+    My life's Thy death, and Thy death gives me breath.
+    But come, my life, I'll hide thee in His tomb:
+    The third day hence is not so long to come.           A.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Primo mane venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena._ Joan. xx. 1.
+
+    Tu matutinos praevertis, sancta, rubores,
+      Magdala; sed jam tum Sol tuus ortus erat.[45]
+    Jamque vetus merito vanos sol non agit ortus,
+      Et tanti radios non putat esse suos.
+    Quippe aliquo, reor, ille novus jam nictat in astro,
+      Et se nocturna parvus habet facula.
+    Quam velit ô tantae vel nuntius esse diei,
+      Atque novus Soli Lucifer ire novo!
+
+
+_[Mary] Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto the
+sepulchre._
+
+    Thou holy Magdalene,
+          Ere rosy morn was seen,
+              Awokest; but e'en then
+                Thy Sun was in thy ken.
+
+    Now the great olden sun,
+          Rising as wont upon
+              The earth, is wilderèd
+                With new beams round him shed.
+
+    Lo, as a star he seems,
+          Or torch with nigh-quench'd beams;
+              Keeping himself still small
+                Before the Lord of All.
+
+    How well might'st thou, O Sun,
+          Submit to be outshone,
+              And, as a morning-star,
+                Herald One grander far!                  G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Quinque panes ad quinque hominum millia._ Joan. vi. 9.
+
+    En mensae faciles, redivivaque vulnera coenae,
+      Quaeque indefessa provocat ora dape!
+    Aucta Ceres stupet arcana se crescere messe.
+      Denique quid restat? Pascitur ipse cibus.
+
+_On the miracle of multiplyed loaves._
+
+    See here an easie feast that knows no wound,
+      That under Hunger's teeth will needs be found;
+    A subtle harvest of unbounded bread:
+      What would ye more? Here Food itselfe is fed.      CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Eas'ly-furnish'd table!
+                  And feast increas'd by eating:
+                    Still the mouth entreating.
+
+    The bread itself, unable
+                  To tell whence it flows,
+                    Finds it most surely grows.
+
+    Finds itself guest--no fable!
+                  Whence is the mystic dower?
+                    From Him Who is all power.            G.
+
+
+IX.
+
+_Æthiops lotus._ Act. viii. 38.
+
+    Ille niger sacris exit, quam lautus! ab undis:
+        Nec frustra Æthiopem nempe lavare fuit.
+    Mentem quam niveam piceae cutis umbra fovebit?
+        Tam volet et nigros sancta Columba lares.
+
+_On the baptized Ethiopian._
+
+    Let it no longer be a forlorne hope
+                    To wash an Ethiope:
+    He's washt; his gloomy skin a peacefull shade
+                    For his white soule is made:
+    And now, I doubt not, the Eternall Dove
+                    A black-fac'd house will love.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    How fair this Ethiop comes from th' holy fount!
+    To wash a Black we may not vain account.
+    How bright a soul is in a cloudy skin!
+    The Dove now loves a black house to dwell in.         B.
+
+
+X.
+
+_Publicanus procul stans percutiebat pectus suum._ Luc. xviii. 13.
+
+    Ecce hic peccator timidus petit advena templum:
+      Quodque audet solum, pectora moesta ferit.
+    Fide miser; pulsaque fores has fortiter: illo
+      Invenies templo tu propiore Deum.
+
+_The publican standing afar off smote on his breast._
+
+    Lo, a sinner, timid stranger,
+        Stranger to the Lord our God,
+    Seeks, in consciousness of danger,
+        Where to leave sin's awful load.
+    He to the Temple now is come,
+        Bow'd in dread beside the door;
+    His pallid lips, behold, are dumb;
+        He smites his bosom, dares no more.
+    Ah, distress'd one, smite thee there
+        In _that_ temple, God is near.                  G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_[In] obolum viduae._ Marc. xii. 44.
+
+    Gutta brevis nummi, vitae patrona senilis,
+      E digitis stillat non dubitantis anus;
+    Istis multa vagi spumant de gurgite census:
+      Isti abjecerunt scilicet; illa dedit.
+
+    Κερματίοιο βραχεῖα ῥανὶς, βιότοιο τ' ἀφαυρῆς
+      Ἕρκος, ἀποστάζει χειρὸς ἀπὸ τρομερᾶς.
+    Τοῖς δὲ ἀνασκιρτᾷ πολὺς ἀφρὸς ἀναιδέος ὄλβου.
+      οἱ μὲν ἀπέῤῥιπτον· κεῖνα δέδωκε μόνον.
+
+_The widow's mites._
+
+    Two mites, two drops--yet all her house and land--
+    Falle from a steady heart though trembling hand:
+    The others' wanton wealth foams high and brave.
+    The other cast away; she only gave.                  CR.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Maria vero assidens ad pedes ejus audiebat eum._ Luc. x. 39.
+
+    Aspice, namque novum est, ut ab hospite pendeat hospes!
+      Hinc ori parat, hoc sumit ab ore cibos.
+    Tune epulis adeo es, soror, officiosa juvandis,
+      Et sinis has, inquit, Martha, perire dapes?
+
+_Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word._
+
+    Behold, a new thing here--host hanging on her Guest!
+      Preparing for His mouth, His mouth's words are her feast!
+    O Martha sister, spare thy labour and thy cost:
+      Tending the food that perisheth, diviner food is lost. G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+_In Spiritus Sancti descensum._ Act. ii.
+
+    Ferte sinus, ô, ferte: cadit vindemia cœli,
+      Sanctaque ab aethereis volvitur uva jugis.
+    Felices nimium, queis tam bona musta bibuntur;
+      In quorum gremium lucida pergit hiems!
+    En caput, en ut nectareo micat et micat astro;
+      Gaudet et in roseis viva corona comis.
+    Illis, ô Superi, quis sic neget ebrius esse?
+      Illis, ne titubent, dant sua vina faces.
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Bear, O bosoms, bear ye what Heaven's vintage showers,
+    Sacred clusters pouring from ethereal bowers.
+    Too happy, surely, ye who drink of wine so good;
+    It comes into your bosoms a sparkling, cooling flood.
+    Behold, with nectar'd star each head is shining, shining;
+    Around your purpl'd locks a crown of life entwining.
+    O Spirit of all flesh, to drink who'd be denied,
+    Since Thou, lest they should falter, mak'st wine a torch to guide? G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Congestis omnibus peregre profectus est._ Luc. xv. 13.
+
+    Dic mihi, quo tantos properas, puer auree, nummos?
+        Quorsum festinae conglomerantur opes?
+    Cur tibi tota vagos ructans patrimonia census?
+        Non poterunt siliquae nempe minoris emi?
+
+
+ON THE PRODIGALL.
+
+_The younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far
+country._
+
+    Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
+    Whither away so frolick? why so glad?
+    What all thy wealth in counsile? all thy state?
+    Are husks so deare? troth, 'tis a mighty rate.       CR.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_Non solum vinciri, sed et mori paratus sum._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Non modo vinc'la, sed et mortem tibi, Christe, subibo,
+      Paulus ait, docti callidus arte doli.
+    Diceret hoc aliter: Tibi non modo velle ligari,
+      Christe, sed et solvi[46] nempe paratus ero.
+
+_I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye._
+
+    Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my eares,
+    At those hard words man's cowardize calls feares.
+    Save those of feare, no other bands feare I;
+    Nor other death than this--the feare to die.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Not bonds for Thee, Lord, but death too I'll brave,
+    Says Paul, adept in double-meanings grave.
+    The words meant more: his wish was to be bound
+    For Christ; but loosèd too, and with Him found.       G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Herodem_ σκωληκόβρωτον. Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Ille Deus, Deus! haec populi vox unica: tantum,
+      Vile genus, vermes credere velle negant.
+    At cito se miseri, cito nunc errasse fatentur;
+      Carnes degustant, ambrosiamque putant.
+
+_On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms._
+
+    A god! a god! one-mouth'd the people cry;
+    Only the worms, vile tribe, his claim deny.
+    Yet they, too, soon confess themselves astray,
+    For in his flesh they find ambrosia.                 CL.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Videns ventum magnum timuit, et cum coepisset demergi, clamavit, &c._
+Matt. xiv.
+
+    Petre, cades, ô, si dubitas: ô, fide: nec ipsum,
+      Petre, negat fidis aequor habere fidem.
+    Pondere pressa suo subsidunt caetera: solum,
+      Petre, tuae mergit te levitatis onus.[47]
+
+_When he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid; and beginning to sink,
+he cried, &c._
+
+    Peter! doubt, and thou sinkest! O, believe;
+      The sea will not thy faith, Peter, deceive.
+    Things by their weight subside into the wave;
+      Thy lightness, Peter, threats a wat'ry grave.       G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Obtulit eis pecunias._ Act. viii. 18.
+
+    Quorsum hos hic nummos profers? quorsum, impie Simon?
+        Non ille hic Judas, sed tibi Petrus adest.
+    Vis emisse Deum? potius, precor, hoc age, Simon,
+        Si potes, ipse prius daemona vende tuum.
+
+_He offered them money._
+
+    Money! what wouldst thou, impious? Look and see,
+    'Tis Peter, not Iscariot, speaks to thee.
+    Wouldst thou buy God? Nay, Simon, change thy tone,
+    And try to sell that demon of thine own. CL.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_Umbra S. Petri medetur aegrotis._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Conveniunt alacres, sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras,
+      Atque umbras fieri, creditis? umbra vetat.
+    O Petri umbra potens, quae non miracula praestat?
+      Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus.
+
+_The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick._
+
+    Beneath that shadow they delight to crowd;
+    To turn to shades by that shade not allow'd.
+    From Peter's shadow what may we not hope,
+    Now all thy glory it sustains, O Pope!                G.
+
+
+XX.
+
+_Tetigit linguam ejus, &c. ... et loquebatur ... et praecepit illis ne
+cui dicerent: illi vero eo magis praedicabant._ Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Christe, jubes muta ora loqui; muta ora loquuntur:
+        Sana tacere jubes ora; nec illa tacent.
+    Si digito tunc usus eras, muta ora resolvens;
+        Nonne opus est tota nunc tibi, Christe, manu?
+
+_The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence._
+
+    Christ bids the dumbe tongue speake; it speakes: the sound
+    Hee charges to be quiet; it runs round.
+    If in the first He us'd His finger's touch,
+    His hand's whole strength here could not be too much. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,
+                  Straightway words flow:
+    Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they
+                  Thee disobey.
+    If, then, a single finger Thou didst use
+                  Mute tongues to loose,
+    Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young
+                  Have ceaseless tongue.                  G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit._ Luc. x. 32.
+
+    Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?
+      O dolor! ô nostris vulnera vulneribus!
+    Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!
+      Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.
+
+_And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and passed by._
+
+    Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
+    Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?
+    The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,
+    Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?
+        Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.
+    O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:
+        They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more.      G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Canst look, and by with look so tranquil pass,
+    Nor heed my wounds? O, wounds on wounds, alas!
+    O peace, too grim! on it set little store:
+    Who looks unmov'd on misery makes it more.            A.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii.
+
+    Dum linquunt Christum, ah morbus! sanantur euntes:
+      Ipse etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+    At sani Christum, mens ah male-sana! relinquunt:
+      Ipsa etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+
+_The ungrateful lepers._
+
+    Whilst leaving Christ--ah, fell disease!--
+                They're healèd as they go:
+    Their malady their medicine is,
+                Because He will'd it so.
+    But healèd now--ah, mind diseas'd!--
+                They from the Lord depart:
+    Their healing their disease is now,
+                Bred in an ingrate heart.                 G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+_Ne soliciti estote tu crastinum._ Matt. vi. 34.
+
+    I, miser, inque tuas rape non tua tempora curas:
+      Et nondum natis perge perire malis.
+    Mi querulis satis una dies, satis angitur horis:
+      Una dies lacrymis mi satis uda suis.
+    Non mihi venturos vacat expectare dolores:
+      Nolo ego, nolo hodie crastinus esse miser.
+
+_Be ye not fretted about to-morrow._
+
+    Go, wretched mortal, antedate the day,
+                Fill thee with care;
+    Work thyself mis'ries, in a perverse way,
+                Before they're there.
+    Enough for me the day's cares in the day,
+                The passing hour;
+    Enough the tears that daily, yea or nay,
+                In sorrow low'r.
+    I have no leisure thus to antedate
+                The coming woe,
+    Nor to-day darken with to-morrow's fate;
+                And so I go.                              G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Wretch, to thy woes add not
+                to-morrow morn;
+    And haste not thou to
+                groan with ills unborn.
+    Each day's laments, each
+                hour's griefs, me suffice;
+    Each morn, noon, eve, with
+                rueful weeping eyes.
+    No leisure is to look for
+                griefs to be:
+    Stir not to-day to-morrow's
+                pains in me.                              A.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_A telonio Matthaeus._ Matt. ix. 9.
+
+    Ah satis, ah nimis est: noli ultra ferre magistrum,
+      Et lucro domino turpia colla dare.
+    Jam fuge; jam, Matthaee, feri fuge regna tyranni:
+      Inque bonam, felix i fugitive,[48] crucem.
+
+_Matthew called from the receipt of custom._
+
+    Enough, too much; no more a master's yoke
+    Endure, nor bow to lordly Lucre's stroke:
+    His service from thy slavish neck is broke.
+
+    Flee, Matthew, flee the cruel tyrant's sway,
+    And hie thee, like a happy runaway,
+    To the sweet cross that waits for thee to-day.    R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_Viduae filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    En redeunt, lacrymasque breves nova gaudia pensant;
+      Bisque illa est, uno in pignore, facta parens.
+    Felix quae magis es nati per funera mater:
+      Amisisse, iterum cui peperisse fuit.
+
+_The dead son re-delivered to his mother._
+
+    Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd,
+      Brief sorrow is exil'd,
+    And the lorn widow is a mother made
+      Twice in her only child.
+
+    O happy mother! then a mother most
+      When all her hopes seem'd vain:
+    Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost,
+      And found him born again.                          CL.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_Bonum intrare in coelos cum uno oculo, &c._ Matt. xviii. 9.
+
+    Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum:
+      Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?
+    Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus
+      Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.
+
+_It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c._
+
+    One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more,
+    To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore
+    Of eyes that has but Argus' store!
+    Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee,
+    O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be
+    All and every whit of me.                            CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give
+      A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.
+    All Argus' eyes were no superlative
+      To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.
+
+    Or, O my God, if unto those who die,
+    It be Thy will only to give one eye,
+    Grant my whole body that one eye to be,
+    That thus I may forever gaze on Thee.                 G.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatur._ Luc. xiv. 2-4.
+
+    Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso
+      Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis:
+    Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas;
+      Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.
+
+            Himself is his own sea;
+            Dropsy his malady
+            In sad severity.
+
+            But Christ the Lord he sees,
+            Who touching him him frees;
+            Now joyous and at ease.
+
+            Again, as I opine,
+            The Lord transmutes to wine
+            By miracle divine;
+
+            And now, still more and more,
+            His own wine-water store
+            Pours mirth at ev'ry pore.                  G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Non erat iis in diversorio locus._ Luc. ii. 7.
+
+    Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?
+      Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.
+    O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!
+      Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.
+
+_There was no room for them in the inn._
+
+    No place for Him! So Him you drive away;
+    You drive away your God, your God. O, stay!
+    O height of human madness! wonders rare!
+    No place for Him! without Whom no place were.         G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite._ Luc. xvi.
+
+    Felix, ô, lacrymis, ô Lazare, ditior istis,
+        Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes:
+    Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis,
+        Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.
+
+_Upon Lazarus his teares._
+
+    Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares,
+        Than Dives in the roabes he weares:
+    He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well
+        With th' purple he must weare in Hell!           CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears
+    Than he who midst his riches purple wears.
+    Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his:
+    Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti._ Matt. xxvi. 65.
+
+    Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis:
+      Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.
+    Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos
+      Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.
+
+_Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ._
+
+    Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!
+    His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.
+    Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he
+    Who leaves not God His own Divinity!                  G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant;
+      O verbi, ô dextrae dulcia regna tuae!
+    Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?
+      Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.[49]
+
+_But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed
+not on Him._
+
+    For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord;
+    Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.
+    Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus
+    Made unbelief itself miraculous.                     CL.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_Ad S. Andream piscatorem._ Marc. i. 16.
+
+    Quippe potes pulchre captare et fallere pisces;
+      Centum illic discis lubricus ire dolis.
+    Heus, bone piscator! tendit sua retia Christus:
+      Artem inverte, et jam tu quoque disce capi.
+
+_To S. Andrew, fisherman._
+
+    How cleverly the fishes he beguiles!
+    He learns to use a hundred cunning wiles.
+    Ho, thou good Fisher: Christ casts out His net;
+    Now haste thou to be caught; for thee 'tis set.       G.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Ego sum vox, &c._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, genitor cur tibi mutus erat?
+    Ista tui fuerant quam mira silentia patris!
+      Vocem non habuit tunc quoque cum genuit.
+
+_I am the voice._
+
+    'I am the voice,' thou sayest. Thou holy John,
+      If voice thou art, why was thy father dumb?
+    O silence strange! which as I muse upon,
+      I see thy voice from God, not man, did come.        G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Vincula sponte decidunt._ Act. xii. 7.
+
+    Qui ferro Petrum cumulas, durissime custos,
+      A ferro disces mollior esse tuo.
+    Ecce fluit, nodisque suis evolvitur ultro:
+      I, fatue, et vinc'lis vincula pone tuis.
+
+_The chains spontaneously fall off._
+
+    Who loadest him with chains, thou jailer stern,
+    To be more kind e'en from those chains shalt learn.
+    Lo, they dissolve, and their own knots untie.
+    Go, fool, and chains with chains to fetter try.       G.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+IN DIEM OMNIUM SANCTORUM.
+
+_Ne laedite terrain, neque mare, neque arbores, quousque obsignaverimus
+servos Dei nostri in frontibus suis._ Rev. vii. 3.
+
+    Nusquam immitis agat ventus sua murmura, nusquam
+      Sylva tremat, crispis sollicitata comis.
+    Aequa Thetis placide allabens ferat oscula Terrae;
+      Terra suos Thetidi pandat amica sinus:
+    Undique pax effusa piis volet aurea pennis,
+      Frons bona dum signo est quaeque notata suo.
+    Ah, quid in hoc opus est signis aliunde petendis?
+      Frons bona sat lacrymis quaeque notata suis.
+
+_On All-Saints' Day._
+
+    Let wind with murmurs harsh nowhere be heard;
+    Nowhere wood tremble, its curl'd tresses stirr'd.
+    Calm-flowing Sea greet Earth with kisses bland,
+    Earth unto Sea its bosom kind expand.
+    Let holy Peace on golden pinions steal,
+    Till each blest brow is mark'd with its own seal.
+    Ah, why elsewhere for this, need signs be sought?
+    To each blest brow tears seal enough have brought.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In die Conjurationis sulphureae._
+
+    Quam bene dispositis annus dat currere festis!
+      Post omnes Sanctos omne scelus sequitur.
+
+_Upon the Powder-day._
+
+    How fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow!
+    All-mischiefe comes after All-Hallow.[50]            CR.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Deus sub utero Virginis._ Luc. i. 31.
+
+    Ecce tuus, Natura, pater; pater hic tuus hic est:
+      Ille, uterus matris quem tenet, ille pater.
+    Pellibus exiguis arctatur Filius ingens,
+      Quem tu non totum, crede, nec ipsa capis.
+    Quanta uteri, Regina, tui reverentia tecum est,
+      Dum jacet hic coelo sub breviore Deus!
+    Conscia divino gliscunt praecordia motu,
+      Nec vehit aethereos sanctior aura polos.
+    Quam bene sub tecto tibi concipiuntur eodem
+      Vota, et, vota cui concipienda, Deus!
+    Quod nubes alia, et tanti super atria cœli
+      Quaerunt, invenient hoc tua vota domi.
+    O felix anima haec, quae tam sua gaudia tangit!
+      Sub conclave suo cui suus ignis adest.
+    Corpus amet, licet, illa suum, neque sidera malit:
+      Quod vinc'lum est aliis, hoc habet illa domum.
+    Sola jaces, neque sola; toro quocunque recumbis,
+      Illo estis positi tuque tuusque toro.
+    Immo ubi casta tuo posita es cum conjuge conjunx;
+      Quod mirum magis est, es tuus ipsa torus.
+
+_God in the Virgin's womb._
+
+    Thy Father, Nature, here thy Father see:
+    Whom womb of mother holds, thy Father He.
+    Scant teguments the mighty Son enchain,
+    Whom thou thyself not wholly dost contain.
+    What reverence, Queen, to thine own womb is given,
+    While God lies here beneath a lesser heaven!
+    With sacred motion swells her conscious breast;
+    Nor are the poles upborne by airs more blest.
+    'Neath the same roof are well conceiv'd by thee
+    Vows, and the God to whom vows offer'd be.
+    What other prayers o'er clouds and sky's vast bound
+    Seek, by thy prayers this will at home be found.
+    Blest soul, so nigh to thy supreme desire,
+    To which 'neath its own shrine dwells its own fire.
+    She may her body love, nor heaven prefer:
+    What chains down others is a home to her.
+    Lone, yet not lone, where'er thou dost recline;
+    On that same couch are laid both thou and thine.
+    Nay, when with thy chaste spouse, chaste wife thou'rt laid--
+    More strange, thyself thine own blest couch art made.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores Stephani._ Act. vii. 59.
+
+    Frustra illum increpitant, frustra vaga saxa: nec illi
+      Grandinis, heu, saevae! dura procella nocet.
+    Ista potest tolerare, potest nescire; sed illi,
+      Quae sunt in vestro pectore, saxa nocent.
+
+_To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen._
+
+    Vainly ye cast stones, Jews; they give no shock:
+      Shower as the hail-storm, it is all in vain.
+    These he shall bear, and heed not: 'tis the rock
+      Of your obdurate hearts that gives him pain.        G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_D. Joannes in exilio._ Rev. i. 9.
+
+    Exul, amor Christi est: Christum tamen invenit exul:
+      Et solitos illic invenit ille sinus.
+    Ah, longo, aeterno ah terras indicite nobis
+      Exilio, Christi si sinus exilium est.
+
+_St. John in exile._
+
+    Love to Christ an exile is,
+      Yet the exile findeth Christ;
+    All the dear familiar bliss,
+      And the bosom-joys unpric'd.
+    Ah, Lord, exile long to us,
+      Never-ending e'en be sent,
+    If we find Christ's bosom thus
+      As our place of banishment.                         G.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Ad infantes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16.
+
+    Fundite ridentes animas, effundite coelo;
+      Discet ibi vestra, ô quam bene! lingua loqui.
+    Nec vos lac vestrum et maternos quaerite fontes:
+      Quae vos expectat lactea tota via est.
+
+_To the infant martyrs._
+
+    Go, smiling soules, your new-built cages breake,
+    In Heav'n you'l learne to sing ere here to speake:
+    Nor let the milky fonts that bath your thirst
+                            Bee your delay;
+    The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
+                            Milke all the way.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Depart, ye smiling souls, to Heaven depart:
+    Your tongues may there learn best the speaking art.
+    Stay not to suck, sweet children, do not stay:
+    Cry not; for you shall go the milky way.              B.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_Quaerit Jesum suum beata Virgo._ Luc. ii. 45.
+
+    Ah, redeas miserae, redeas, puer alme, parenti;
+      Ah, neque te cœlis tam cito redde tuis.
+    Coelum nostra tuum fuerint, ô, brachia, si te
+      Nostra suum poterunt brachia ferre Deum.
+
+_The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus._
+
+    Ah, to Thy mother, ah, return,
+                  my fair, belovèd Son;
+    Return not to Thy native skies,
+                  my heaven-descended One.
+    Thy mother's arms Thy heaven would be,
+                  enfolding Thee around;
+    If thus within these innocent arms
+                  the great God might be found.[51]       G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Non sum dignus ut sub tecta mea venias._ Matt. viii. 8.
+
+    In tua tecta Deus veniet: tuus haud sinit illud
+      Et pudor atque humili in pectore celsa fides.
+    Illum ergo accipies, quoniam non accipis: ergo
+      In te jam veniet, non tua tecta Deus.[52]
+
+
+_I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roofe._
+
+    Thy God was making hast into thy roofe;
+    Thy humble faith and feare keepes him aloofe.
+    Hee'll be thy guest, because He may not be;
+    Hee'll come--into thy house? No, into thee.          CR.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Christus accusatus nihil respondet._ Matt. xxvii. 12.
+
+    Nil ait: ô sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!
+      Ponderis ô quanti res nihil illud erat!
+    Ille olim verbum qui dixit, et omnia fecit,
+      Verbum non dicens omnia nunc reficit.
+
+_And He answered them nothing._
+
+    O mighty Nothing! unto thee,
+    Nothing, wee owe all things that bee.
+    God spake once when Hee all things made,
+    Hee sav'd all when Hee Nothing said.
+    The world was made of Nothing then;
+    'Tis made by Nothing now againe.                     CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    'Nothing He said.'
+    O precious silence of that sacred tongue!
+    O what vast interests on that Nothing hung!
+    He who once spoke the word, and all things made,
+    Now re-makes all, when not a word is said.            G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Spesne meas tandem ergo mei tenuere lacerti?
+      Ergo bibunt oculos lumina nostra tuos?
+    Ergo bibant: possintque novam sperare juventam:
+      O possint senii non meminisse sui!
+    Immo mihi potius mitem mors induat umbram,
+      Esse sub his oculis si tamen umbra potest.
+    Ah, satis est. Ego te vidi, puer auree, vidi:
+      Nil post te, nisi te, Christe, videre volo.[53]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    And is my hope grasp'd in these arms of mine
+    At last, and do these eyes drink light from Thine?
+    There let them drink with a new youth in store,
+    And feel the dimming touch of age no more.
+    Nay rather, if Thine eyes can give it room,
+    Let Death's soft shadow gently o'er them come.
+    Thee have I seen, O Child: enough for me:
+    I care not to behold aught else but Thee.            CL.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Verbum inter spinas._ Luc. viii. 7.
+
+    Saepe Dei verbum sentes cadit inter, et atrum
+      Miscet spina procax, ah, male juncta! latus.
+    Credo quidem: nam sic spinas, ah, scilicet inter
+      Ipse Deus verbum tu quoque, Christe, cadis.
+
+
+_The Word among thorns._
+
+    Often and often 'good words' fall
+    Where thorns and briars rankly crawl;
+    Their spines lay hold, and choke, and pierce--
+    Like to wild beast in hunger fierce.
+    I know it: for like flash of sword
+    I read 'twas so with Thee THE WORD:
+    God, e'en my God, Thou wast in truth;
+    But fell'st 'mong thorns, which show'd no ruth.       G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+_Sabbatum Judaicum et Christianum._ Luc. xiv. 5.
+
+    Res eadem vario quantum distinguitur usu:
+      Nostra hominem servant sabbata, vestra bovem.
+    Observent igitur, pacto quid justius isto?
+      Sabbata nostra homines, sabbata vestra boves.
+
+_The Judaic and Christian Sabbath._
+
+    How diff'rent grows a thing through diff'rent use!
+    _Our_ Sabbaths serve men, _yours_ give oxen truce,
+    Be this agreed--arrangement fitter none--
+    _Our_ Sabbath men keep, _yours_ oxen alone.           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_Ad verbum Dei sanatur caecus._ Marc. x. 52.
+
+    Christe, loquutus eras, ô sacra licentia verbi:
+      Jamque novus caeci fluxit in ora dies.
+    Jam credo, Nemo[54] est, sicut Tu, Christe, loquutus:
+      Auribus? immo oculis, Christe, loquutus eras.
+
+
+_The blind cured by the word of our Saviour._
+
+    Thou spak'st the word--Thy word's a law;
+    Thou spak'st, and straight the blind man saw.
+    To speak and make the blind to see,
+    Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.
+    To speak thus was to speak, say I,
+    Not to his eare, but to his eye.                     CR.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+_Onus meum leve est._ Matt. xi. 30.
+
+    Esse levis quicunque voles, onus accipe Christi:
+      Ala tuis humeris, non onus, illud erit.
+    Christi onus an quaeris quam sit grave? scilicet audi,
+      Tam grave, ut ad summos te premat usque polos.
+
+_My burden is light._
+
+    Askest how thou may'st lightly loaded be?
+      Christ's _burden_ take from me:
+    A wing to lift, no load to press thee down,
+      Thou it wilt feel and own.
+    Dost ask how heavy may Christ's _burden_ be?
+      Then list, O man, to me:
+    So _heavy_, that whoe'er 'neath it enrolls,
+      It lifts to the highest poles.                      G.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+_Miraculum quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 1-13.
+
+    Ecce, vagi venit unda cibi; venit indole sacra
+      Fortis, et in dentes fertilis innumeros.
+    Quando erat invictae tam sancta licentia coenae?
+      Illa famem populi poscit, et illa fidem.
+
+_On the miracle of loaves._
+
+    Now, Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on Thee;
+    Thou to their teeth hast prov'd Thy deity.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See, loaves in heaps, blest growth, spread far and wide,
+    For mouths innumerable multiplied.
+    Feast holy, free, invincible like this,
+    Claims the crowd's hunger, and their faith, I wis.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nunc scimus te habere daemonium._ Joan. viii. 52.
+
+    Aut Deus, aut saltem daemon tibi notior esset,
+      Gens mala, quae dicis daemona habere Deum.
+    Ignorasse Deum poteras, ô caeca; sed oro,
+      Et patrem poteras tam male nosse tuum?
+
+_Now we know Thee to have a devil._
+
+    God or the devil by you
+                    ought better to be known,
+    Ye wicked ones, who charge
+                    your God a devil to own.
+    Ign'rant of God, indeed,
+                    ye well might be; but O,
+    The devil, your own father,
+                     how could ye fail to know?           G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    In gremio, quaeris, cur sic sua lumina Virgo
+      Ponat? ubi melius poneret illa, precor?
+    O ubi, quam coelo, melius sua lumina ponat?
+      Despicit, at coelum sic tamen illa videt.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness._
+
+    That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
+    'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.
+    The faire starre is well fixt, for where, O, where,
+    Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare?
+    'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heaven's God there lyes;
+    She can see Heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes.
+    This new guest to her eyes new lawes hath given:
+    'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven. CR.
+
+
+LII.
+
+_In vulnera Dei pendentis._
+
+    O frontis, lateris, manuumque pedumque cruores;
+      O quae purpureo flumina fonte patent:
+    In nostram, ut quondam, pes non valet ire salutem,
+      Sed natat; in fluviis, ah, natat ille suis.
+    Fixa manus; dat, fixa: pios bona dextera rores
+      Donat, et in donum solvitur ipsa suum.
+    O latus, ô torrens; quis enim torrentior exit
+      Nilus, ubi pronis praecipitatur aquis?
+    Mille et mille simul cadit et cadit undique guttis
+      Frons: viden' ut saevus purpuret ora pudor?
+    Spinae hoc irriguae florent crudeliter imbre,
+      Inque novas sperant protinus ire rosas.
+    Quisque capillus it exiguo tener alveus amne,
+      Hoc quasi de rubro rivulus oceano.
+    O nimium vivae pretiosis amnibus undae:
+      Fons vitae nunquam verior ille fuit.
+
+_On the wounds of our crucified Lord._
+
+    O bleeding wounds of brow, feet, hands, and side;
+    Rivers which from a purple fount spread wide.
+    No more to save us now that foot can go,
+    But swims in streams which from its own wounds flow.
+    Transfix'd His hand yet gives--gives dewdrops holy,
+    And into its own gift is melted wholly.
+    O side, O torrent; for with torrent strong
+    What flooded Nile more swift is driven along?
+    Drops from His brow in thousands fall and fall;
+    See to His face a cruel blush they call.
+    By this sad shower the thorns unkindly nurst
+    Soon into new-blown roses hope to burst.
+    Each hair becomes a slender streamlet's bed,
+    As if a rivulet from this ocean red.
+    O waves too much alive with precious streams,
+    Nowhere a fount of life more truly gleams.[55]    R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_Quare cum Publicanis manducat Magister vester?_ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Ergo istis socium se peccatoribus addit?
+      Ergo istis sacrum non negat ille latus?
+    Tu, Pharisaee, rogas, Jesus cur fecerit istud?
+      Nae dicam: Jesus, non Pharisaeus, erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?_
+
+    Wherefore associates He with sinners vile?
+    Why hides He not His holy self the while?
+    Askest thou, Pharisee, how this can be?
+    Because 'tis Jesus, not a Pharisee.                  G.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+_Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus._
+
+    Ipsum, ipsum, precor, ô potius mini, candide, monstra:
+      Ipsi, ipsi ô lacrymis oro sit ire meis.
+    Si monstrare locum satis est, et dicere nobis,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus;
+    Ipsa ulnas monstrare meas, et dicere possum,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus.
+
+    Φαίδιμέ, μοι αὐτὸν μᾶλλόν μοι δείκνυθι αὐτόν.
+      Αὐτός μου, δέομαι, αὐτὸς ἔχῃ δάκρυα.
+    Εἰ δὲ τόπον μοὶ δεικνύναι ἅλις ἐστὶ, καὶ εἰπεῖν,
+      Ὧδε τεὸς, Μαριὰμ, ἠνίδε, κεῖτο ἄναξ·
+    Ἀγκοίνας μου δεικνύναι δύναμαί γε καὶ εἰπεῖν,
+      Ὧδε τεὸς, Μαριὰμ, ἠνίδε, κεῖτο ἄναξ.
+
+_Come, see the place where the Lord lay._
+
+    Show me Himselfe, Himselfe, bright Sir, O show
+    Which way my poore tears to Himselfe may goe.
+    Were it enough to show the place, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay;
+    Then could I show these armes of mine, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay.
+
+_Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord._
+
+    Here, where our Lord once laid His head,
+    Now the grave lies buried.                           CR.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii. 11-19.
+
+    Lex jubet ex hominum coetu procul ire leprosos:
+      At mundi a Christo cur abiere procul?
+    Non abit, at sedes tantum mutavit in illis;
+      Et lepra, quae fuerat corpore, mente sedet.
+    Sic igitur digna vice res variatur; et a se
+      Quam procul ante homines, nunc habuere Deum.
+
+_The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)_
+
+    The Lord commands the lepers
+      far off from men to stay:
+    But cleansèd by the Lord,
+      why went the Nine away?
+    The leprosy remaineth,
+      chang'd only in its seat:
+    Expellèd from the body,
+      to the soul it makes retreat.
+    Now by fit retribution
+      a change is brought about:
+    Before shut out from men,
+      from God they're now shut out.                  G.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+_In cicatrices quas Christus habet in se adhuc superstites._ Joan. xx.
+
+    Quicquid spina procax, vel stylo clavus acuto,
+      Quicquid purpurea scripserat hasta nota,
+    Vivit adhuc tecum; sed jam tua vulnera non sunt:
+      Non, sed vulneribus sunt medicina meis.
+
+_On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds._
+
+    Whatever story of their crueltie,
+    Or naile, or thorne, or speare have writ in Thee,
+              Are in another sence
+                  Still legible;
+              Sweet is the difference:
+                  Once I did spell
+              Every red letter
+                  A wound of Thine;
+              Now, what is better,
+                  Balsome for mine.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Each bloody, cruel character,
+      Thorn, nail, and spear had written,
+    When here, as man's great Arbiter,
+      On Calvary Thou wert smitten,
+    Thou wearest still above, O Lord:
+      But now no longer wounds they are;
+    According to Thy Holy Word,
+      They med'cine for my wounds declare.                G.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+_Aeger implorat umbram D. Petri._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Petre, tua lateam paulisper, Petre, sub umbra:
+      Sic mea me quaerent fata, nec invenient.
+    Umbra dabit tua posse meum me cernere solem;
+      Et mea lux umbrae sic erit umbra tuae.
+
+_The sick implore St. Peter's shadow._
+
+    Under thy shadow may I lurke awhile,
+    Death's busie search I'le easily beguile:
+    Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the sun;
+    My light's thy shadowe's shadow, or 'tis done.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O Peter, Peter, let thy shadow fall
+    Where I in wretchedness a-weary crawl:
+    Here vainly shall my fates upon me call.
+    Thy shadow me shall guide unto my sun--
+    Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?--
+    And so my light, thy shadow, shall be one.            G.
+
+
+LVIII.
+
+_Quid turbati estis? Videte manus meas et pedes, quia ego ipse sum._
+Luc. xxiv. 39.
+
+    En me et signa mei, quondam mea vulnera: certe,
+      Vos nisi credetis, vulnera sunt et adhuc.
+    O nunc ergo fidem sanent mea vulnera vestram:
+      O mea nunc sanet vulnera vestra fides.
+
+_Why are ye troubled?... Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I
+myself._
+
+    'Tis I; behold My proofs, My wounds of old;
+      Wounds which still bleed, if you will not believe.
+    O, now to heal your faith My wounds behold,
+      And healing from your faith My wounds receive.
+
+
+LIX.
+
+_In vincula Petro sponte delapsa, et apertas fores._ Act. xii. 7, 10.
+
+    Ferri non meminit ferrum: se vincula Petro
+      Dissimulant: nescit carcer habere fores.
+    Quam bene liber erit, carcer quem liberat! ipsa
+      Vincula quem solvunt, quam bene tutus erit!
+
+_The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, and the (prison)-doors
+opened._
+
+    Iron forgets 'tis iron;
+      the chains dissemble too;
+    Nor has the prison doors
+      for Peter now.
+    Free truly is that pris'ner
+      who by the prison's freed;
+    Whom chains themselves unbind
+      free is indeed.
+
+
+LX.
+
+_Deferebantur a corpore ejus sudaria, &c._ Act. xix. 12.
+
+    Imperiosa premunt morbos, et ferrea fati
+      Jura ligant, Pauli lintea tacta manu.
+    Unde haec felicis laus est et gloria lini?
+      Haec, reor, e Lachesis pensa fuere colo.
+
+_From his body there were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs, &c._
+
+    They quell disease, and sway Fate's iron bands,
+    These lordly linen cloths touched by Paul's hands.
+    Whence rose the glory of their happy fame?
+    From the Fates' distaff, sure, these kerchiefs came.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXI.
+
+_Christus vitis ad vinitorem Patrem._ Joan. xv. 1-6.
+
+    En serpit tua, purpureo tua palmite vitis
+      Serpit, et, ah, spretis it per humum foliis.
+    Tu viti succurre tuae, mi Vinitor ingens:
+      Da fulcrum; fulcrum da mihi: quale? crucem.
+
+_Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father._
+
+    Lo, Thy vine trails, trails with a purple shoot,
+    Scatt'ring its leaves before it beareth fruit.
+    Succour Thy vine, great Vinedresser, from loss:
+    Support, support me, Lord: how? With Thy cross.       G.
+
+
+LXII.
+
+_Pene persuades mihi ut fiam Christianus._ Act. xxvi. 28.
+
+    Pene? quid hoc pene est? Vicinia saeva salutis!
+      O quam tu malus es proximitate boni!
+    Ah, portu qui teste perit, bis naufragus ille est;
+      Hunc non tam pelagus, quam sua terra premit.
+    Quae nobis spes vix absunt, crudelius absunt:
+      Pene sui felix, emphasis est miseri.
+
+_Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian._
+
+    _Almost?_ What word is this we hear?
+    O doubly lost, with heaven so near!
+    To perish in the neighbourhood
+    Of vast but unavailing good!
+    He shipwreck undergoes twice o'er
+    Who perishes in sight of shore,
+    And less by ocean is o'ercome
+    Than by that hopeless glimpse of home.
+    The hopes that almost seem our own
+    Leave all the keener sting when gone;
+    And just to miss felicity
+    Is but emphatic misery.                              CL.
+
+
+LXIII.
+
+_Lux venit in mundum, sed dilexerunt homines magis tenebras quam lucem._
+Joan. iii. 19.
+
+    Luce sua venit ecce Deus, mundoque refulget;
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas.
+    At Stygiis igitur mundus damnabitur umbris:
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas?
+
+_But men loved darkness rather than light._
+
+    The world's Light shines: shine as it will,
+    The world will love its darknesse still.
+    I doubt though, when the world's in hell,
+    It will not love its darknesse halfe so well.        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Behold the day of Christ! God comes with light;
+    Yet the world loves the darkness of the night.
+    Therefore the world to Stygian darkness will
+    Be damn'd: and doth the world love darkness still?    B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Lo, God comes girt with light,
+      and all the world o'ershines:
+    The world abides in night,
+      nor watcheth for the signs.
+    To Stygian darkness hurl'd
+      on the great Day of Doom,
+    Shalt thou, night-loving world,
+      still love thy lightless gloom?                     G.
+
+
+LXIV.
+
+_Dives implorat guttam._ Luc. xvi. 24.
+
+    O mihi si digito tremat et tremat unica summo
+      Gutta! ô si flammas mulceat una meas!
+    Currat opum quocunque volet levis unda mearum;
+      Una mihi haec detur gemmula, Dives ero.
+
+_Dives asking a drop._
+
+    A drop, one drop! how sweetly one faire drop
+    Would tremble on my pearle-tipt finger's top!
+    My wealth is gone: O, goe it where it will,
+    Spare this one iewell, I'le be Dives still.          CR.
+
+
+LXV.
+
+_Quomodo potest homo gigni qui est senex?_ Joan. iii. 4.
+
+    Dic, Phœnix unde in nitidos novus emicat annos,
+      Plaudit et elusos aurea penna rogos?
+    Quis colubrum dolus insinuat per secula retro,
+      Et jubet emeritum luxuriare latus?
+    Cur rostro pereunte suam praedata senectam
+      Torva ales, rapido plus legit ore diem?
+    Immo, sed ad nixus praestat Lucina secundos?
+      Natales seros unde senex habeat.
+    Ignoras, Pharisaee? sat est: jam credere disces:
+      Dimidium fidei, qui bene nescit, habet.
+
+_How can a man be born when he is old?_
+
+    See how new Phœnix into bright life springs,
+    And fans the unhurting flames with golden wings.
+    O'er snake what subtle change creeps as months flow,
+    Bidding its faded frame with beauty glow.
+    Why, on itself with worn beak having prey'd,
+    Is raven old more youthful swift array'd?
+    O'er second birth-throes bears Lucina sway,
+    Whence an old man may have late natal day?
+    Pharisee, know'st not? Well, now faith thou'lt learn:
+    Wisely to know not, half faith's crown doth earn.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXVI.
+
+_Arbor Christi jussu arescens._ Marc. xi. 13.
+
+    Ille jubet: procul ite mei, mea gloria, rami:
+      Nulla vocet nostras amplius aura comas.
+    Ite, nec ô pigeat; nam vos neque fulminis ira,
+      Nec trucis ala Noti verberat: ille jubet.
+    O vox, ô Zephyro vel sic quoque dulcior omni;
+      Non possum Autumno nobiliore frui.
+
+_The tree dried up by the word of Christ._
+
+    He speaks: hence, leaves; my glory hence, away;
+    Thou Zephyr 'mid my leaves no longer play;
+    Begone: nor grieve: 'tis not the lightning's wrath,
+    Nor wing of the storm-wind that smites: HE saith.
+    O voice, than Zephyr sweeter far to me;
+    More noble autumn-fruit could never be.               G.
+
+
+LXVII.
+
+_Zacharias minus credens._ Luc. i. 12.
+
+    Infantis fore te patrem, res mira videtur;
+      Infans interea factus es ipse pater.
+    Et dum promissi signum, nimis anxie, quaeris,
+      Jam nisi per signum quaerere nulla potes.
+
+_Zacharias incredulous._
+
+    To have a child thou deem'st so strange a thing,
+    That thou art made a child for wondering.
+    Whilst for a sign too eagerly thou dost call,
+    Except by sign thou can'st not ask at all.           CL.
+
+
+LXVIII.
+
+_In aquam baptismi Dominici._ Matt. iii. 13-16.
+
+    Felix ô, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus;
+      Felix, dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.
+    Gutta quidem sacros quaecunque perambulat artus,
+      Dum manet hic, gemma est; dum cadit hinc, lacryma.
+
+_On the water of our Lord's baptisme._
+
+    Each blest drop on each blest limme
+    Is washt itselfe in washing Him:
+    'Tis a gemme while it stayes here;
+    While it falls hence 'tis a teare.                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Happy the water washt His sacred side;
+    In washing Christ itself is purify'd.
+    Each drop that trickled down His body, there
+    Staying a gem, thence falling was a tear.             B.
+
+
+LXIX.
+
+_Mulieri incurvatae medetur Dominus, indignante Archisynagogo._ Luc.
+xiii. 11.
+
+    In proprios replicata sinus quae repserat, et jam
+      Daemonis, infelix, nil nisi nodus erat,
+    Solvitur ad digitum Domini: sed strictior illo
+      Unicus est nodus; cor, Pharisaee, tuum.
+
+_The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, the Synagogue-ruler is
+displeased._
+
+    Creeping and doubled erewhile in her woe,
+    Lo, now she stands erect: Christ willed it so.
+    Dæmonic knots are loos'd beneath His hands;
+    But thy heart, Pharisee, still rigid stands.          G.
+
+
+LXX.
+
+_Neque ausus fuit quisquam ex illo die eum amplius interrogare._ Matt.
+xxii. 46.
+
+    Christe, malas fraudes, Pharisaica retia, fallis:
+      Et miseros sacro discutis ore dolos.
+    Ergo tacent tandem, atque invita silentia servant:
+      Tam bene non aliter te potuere loqui.[56]
+
+_Neither durst any man from that day forth ask Him any more questions._
+
+    Nets, frauds of Pharisees, the Lord beguiles;
+    His sacred lips disperse the wretched wiles.
+    So they were silent--enforc'd so to be:
+    Such silence, Lord, their best address to Thee.       G.
+
+
+LXXI.
+
+_S. Joannes matri suae._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    O mihi cur dextram, mater, cur, oro, sinistram
+      Poscis, ab officio mater iniqua tuo?
+    Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram:
+      Tam procul a sacro non libet esse sinu.
+
+
+_St. John and his mother._
+
+    Mother, why ask you right or left for me?
+    The benefit would be an injury.
+    Nor right nor left for me convenient are:
+    From His sweet bosome either is too far.              B.
+
+
+LXXII.
+
+_Si filius Dei es, dejice te._ Matt. iv. 6.
+
+    Ni se dejiciat Christus de vertice Templi,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+    At mox te humano de pectore dejicit: heus tu,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+
+_If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down._
+
+    Cast Thyself from the pinacle whereon
+    I set Thee, or I think Thee not God's Son.
+    No; but He'l cast thee from the hearts of men,
+    Satan. Wilt not believe He's God's Son then?          B.
+
+
+LXXIII.
+
+_Dominus flens ad Judaeos._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Discite, vos miseri, venientes discite flammas;
+      Nec facite ô lacrymas sic periisse meas.
+    Nec periisse tamen poterunt: mihi credite, vestras
+      Vel reprimet flammas haec aqua, vel faciet.
+
+_The Lord weeping over the Jews._
+
+    Think on the coming flames I would prevent;
+    Let not My tears for you in vain be spent.
+    And yet they can't be spent in vain; for sure
+    This water flames will quench, or else procure.       B.
+
+
+LXXIV.
+
+_Nec velut hic Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Istum? vile caput! quantum mihi gratulor, inquis,
+      Istum quod novi tam mihi dissimilem!
+    Vilis at iste abiit sacris acceptior aris:
+      I nunc, et jactes hunc tibi dissimilem.
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    Him, 'vile wretch!' Ah, myself how much I pride
+      That I am utterly unlike to him!
+    The 'vile wretch' leaves God's altar justified:
+      Now go and boast thou art unlike to him.            G.
+
+
+LXXV.
+
+_In Saulum fulgore nimio excaecatum._ Act. ix. 3.
+
+    Quae lucis tenebrae? quae nox est ista dici?
+      Nox nova, quam nimii luminis umbra facit.
+    An Saulus fuerit caecus, vix dicere possum;
+      Hoc scio, quod captus lumine Saulus erat.[57]
+
+_On Saul blinded with too much light._
+
+    What darken'd noon is here? what mid-day night?
+    It is the shadow cast by too much light.
+    Saul may be blind or not; all I can say,
+    Ta'en within Heaven's light earth's light fades away.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVI.
+
+_Beati oculi qui vident._ Luc. x. 23.
+
+    Cum Christus nostris ibat mitissimus oris,
+      Atque novum caecos jussit habere diem,
+    Felices, oculos qui tunc habuere, vocantur?
+      Felices, et qui non habuere, voco.
+
+_Blessed are the eyes which see._
+
+    When Christ with us on Earth did sympathize,
+    And to the poor blind men restor'd their eyes,
+    Happy they who had eyes. Not they alone;
+    I call them also happy who had none.                  B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    When Christ on earth moved on His pitying way,
+    And bade the blind look up and find new day,
+    Was eyesight then such bliss to every one?
+    Yet I will deem them happy who had none.              G.
+
+
+LXXVII.
+
+_Filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    Ergone tam subita potuit vice flebilis horror
+      In natalitia candidus ire toga?
+    Quos vidi, matris gemitus hos esse dolentis
+      Credideram; gemitus parturientis erant.
+
+_Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier._
+
+    With such quick change could tear-bedew'd Dismay
+    Give birthday smiles, and walk in white array?
+    Heard I bereavèd mother's wailings wild?
+    No; the blest cries of one who bears a child!     R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+_In seculi sapientes._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Ergone delicias facit, et sibi plaudit ab alto
+      Stultitia, ut velit hac ambitione peti?
+    Difficilisne adeo facta est, et seria tandem?
+      Ergo et in hanc etiam quis sapuisse potest?
+    Tantum erat, ut possit tibi doctior esse ruina?
+      Tanti igitur cerebri res, periisse, fuit?
+    Nil opus ingenio; nihil hac opus arte furoris:
+      Simplicius poteris scilicet esse miser.
+
+_On the wise of this world._
+
+    With such complacent joys is Folly fraught,
+    That with this trouble she must needs be sought?
+    So difficult and grave is she turn'd now,
+    Can any one for her be wise enow?
+    Must Ruin to be deeper taught aspire?
+    To perish, does it so much brain require?
+    Genius and skill in madness who would see?
+    Forsooth, more simply you may wretched be!        R. WI.
+
+
+LXXIX.
+
+_In Judaeos Christum praecipitare conantes._ Luc. iv. 29.
+
+    Dicite, quae tanta est sceleris fiducia vestri,
+      Quod nequiit daemon, id voluisse scelus?
+    Quod nequiit daemon scelus, id voluisse patrare:
+      Hoc tentare ipsum daemona, credo, fuit.
+
+_The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice._
+
+    What daring leads you on, ungodly crew,
+    To that which ev'n the Devil durst not do?
+    Ye dare what he dares not? If truth be told,
+    Ye tempt the Devil's self to be more bold.            G.
+
+
+LXXX.
+
+_In draconem praecipitem._ Rev. xii. 9.
+
+    I, frustra truculente; tuas procul aurea rident
+      Astra minas, coelo jam bene tuta suo.
+    Tune igitur coelum super ire atque astra parabas?
+      Ascensu tanto non opus ad barathrum.
+
+_The casting-down of the dragon._
+
+    Go, Dragon! the fair stars smile at thy threat,
+      Secure, serene, in native skies a-glow.
+    Thy throne o'er sky and stars thou fain would'st set;
+      Thou need'st not vault so high to plunge so low.    G.
+
+
+LXXXI.
+
+_Beatae Virgini credenti._ Luc. ii. 19.
+
+    Miraris, quid enim faceres? sed et haec quoque credis:
+      Haec uteri credis dulcia monstra tui.
+    En fidei, Regina, tuae dignissima merces:
+      Fida Dei fueras filia; mater eris.
+
+_The blessed Virgin believing._
+
+    Thou wonderèd'st! how else could'st thou so guarded?
+      Yet thou believ'dst the mighty coming birth;
+    Queen! thy faith's working is full well rewarded;
+      God's daughter, thou God's mother art on earth.     G.
+
+
+LXXXII.
+
+_Licetne Caesari censum dare?_ Marc. xii. 14.
+
+    Post tot Scribarum, Christe, in te proelia, tandem
+      Ipse venit Caesar; Caesar in arma venit.
+    Pugnant terribiles non Caesaris ense, sed ense
+      Caesare: quin Caesar vinceris ipse tamen.
+    Hoc quoque tu conscribe tuis, Auguste, triumphis.
+      Sic vinci dignus quis nisi Caesar erat?
+
+_Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar?_
+
+    After so many battles with the Scribes, O Lord,
+    Cæsar himself comes; Cæsar with his sword.
+    They fight not arm'd with Cæsar's sword indeed;
+    But Cæsar as their sword with craft they plead.
+    Conquer'd thyself, O Cæsar, make it known--
+    Who save thee, worthy so to be o'erthrown.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+_In tibicines et turbam tumultuantem circa defunctam._ Matt. ix. 23.
+
+    Vani, quid strepitis? nam quamvis dormiat illa,[58]
+      Non tamen e somno est sic revocanda suo.
+    Expectat solos Christi sopor iste susurros:
+      Dormit enim; sed non omnibus illa tamen.
+
+
+_The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead._
+
+    Vain mourning this; why make ye such loud noise?
+      She sleeps indeed, but so will not awake.
+    Her sleep waits for the whisper of His voice
+      Who a great promise to her father spake.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+_Piscatores vocati._ Matt. iv. 19.
+
+    Ludite jam, pisces, secura per aequora: pisces
+      Nos quoque, sed varia sub ratione, sumus.
+    Non potuisse cápi, vobis spes una salutis:
+      Una salus nobis est, potuisse capi.
+
+_The fishermen called._
+
+    Play, fishes, in your waters, safely play:
+    We become fishes too, another way.
+    Not to be taken, to you safety brought:
+    But we are then most safe when we are caught.         B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Careless, aneath the waves, ye fishes, play:
+    We too are fishes, in a different way;
+    Ye die, we live, being caught; and that for aye.      G.
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Sport, fishes, now, within the secure sea:
+    Lo, fishes too, in different kind, are we.
+    In shunning nets your hope of safety lay;
+    Our safety is to be the netter's prey.                A.
+
+
+LXXXV.
+
+_Date Caesari._ Marc. xii. 17.
+
+    Cuncta Deo debentur: habet tamen et sua Caesar;
+      Nec minus inde Deo est, si sua Caesar habet.
+    Non minus inde Deo est, solio si caetera dantur
+      Caesareo, Caesar cum datur ipse Deo.
+
+_Give to Cæsar ... and to God...._
+
+    All we have is God's, and yet
+    Cæsar challenges a debt;
+    Nor hath God a thinner share,
+    Whatever Cæsar's payments are.
+    All is God's; and yet 'tis true
+    All we have is Cæsar's too.
+    All is Cæsar's; and what ods,
+    So long as Cæsar's selfe is God's?                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    All things belong to God, yet Cæsar has his all;
+    Not due the less to God that they to Cæsar fall.
+    Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to Cæsar's throne;
+    For Cæsar's throne itself belongs to God alone.       G.
+
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+_Dominus asino vehitur._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille igitur vilem te, te dignatur asellum,
+      O non vectura non bene digne tua!
+    Heu, quibus haud pugnat Christi patientia monstris!
+      Hoc quod sic fertur, hoc quoque ferre fuit.
+
+_The Lord borne on the ass._
+
+    Does He, base ass, thus deign to honour thee,
+      Unworthy thus to bear th' incarnate God?
+    Alas, Thy patience strangely tried I see,
+      Thee carried thus who bear'st sin's awful load!     B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    A common ass does the Lord dignify?
+    O, how unworthy such a burden high!
+    With the Lord's patience, ah, what can compare?
+    So to be borne, this also was to bear.            R. WI.
+
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+_Videbunt Filium hominis venientem in nube._ Luc. xxi. 27.
+
+    Immo, veni: aërios, ô Christe, accingere currus,
+      Inque triumphali nube coruscus ades.
+    Nubem quaeris? erunt nostra, ah! suspiria nubes:
+      Aut sol in nubem se dabit ipse tuam.
+
+_They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud._
+
+    Come, yoke Thy chariots of the air, O Lord;
+    Triumphal honours let bright clouds afford.
+    Dost seek a cloud? Our sighs a cloud will be,
+    Or the sun melt into a cloud for Thee.                G.
+
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+_Nisi digitum immisero, &c._ Joan. xx. 25.
+
+    Impius ergo iterum clavos? iterum impius hastam?
+      Et totum digitus triste revolvet opus?
+    Tune igitur Christum, Thoma, quo vivere credas,
+      In Christum faceres, ah truculente! mori?
+
+CHRIST TO THOMAS.
+
+_Except I shall put my finger, &c._
+
+    Thy impious finger, would it, then, re-borrow
+    The nails, the spear, each circumstance of sorrow?
+    That on a living Christ thou mayst rely,
+    Cruel, wouldst thou thy Christ re-crucify?            G.
+
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores S. Stephani._ Act. vi. 9-12.
+
+    Quid datis, ah miseri! saxis nolentibus iras?
+      Quid nimis in tragicum praecipitatis opus?
+    In mortem Stephani se dant invita: sed illi
+      Occiso faciunt sponte sua tumulum.
+
+_To the Jews stoning St. Stephen._
+
+    Wretches, do ye put rage into cold stones?
+      Why rush so eagerly to work so vile?
+    Your stones unwilling add to Stephen's moans,
+      But gladly heap a tomb for him the while.           G.
+
+
+XC.
+
+_Sancto Joanni dilecto discipulo._
+
+    Tu fruere, augustoque sinu caput abde, quod ô tum
+      Nollet in aeterna se posuisse rosa.
+    Tu fruere; et sacro dum te sic pectore portat,
+      O sat erit tergo me potuisse vehi.
+
+_To St. John the beloved disciple._
+
+    Upon His breast thy happy head reposes,
+    Nor would that pillow change for Heaven's own roses:
+    While thus His bosom bears up happy thee,
+    To press His shoulders were enough for me.            G.
+
+
+XCI.
+
+_In lactentes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16, 17.
+
+    Vulnera natorum qui vidit et ubera matrum,
+      Per pueros fluviis, ah! simul ire suis:
+    Sic pueros quisquis vidit, dubitavit an illos
+      Lilia coelorum diceret, anne rosas.
+
+_Upon the infant martyrs._
+
+    To see both blended in one flood,
+    The mothers' milk, the childrens' blood,
+    Makes me doubt if Heaven will gather
+    Roses hence, or lillies rather.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Who saw the infants' blood and milk of mother
+    Flowing, alas, in a commingl'd tide,
+    Doubtingly ask'd, and gaz'd from one to other,
+    Whether Heav'n's rose or lily they espy'd.            G.
+
+
+XCII.
+
+_Deus nobiscum._ Matt. i. 23.
+
+    Nobiscum Deus est? vestrum hoc est, hei mihi! vestrum:
+      Vobiscum Deus est, ô asini atque boves.
+    Nobiscum non est; nam nos domus aurea sumit:
+      Nobiscum Deus est, et jacet in stabulo?
+    Hoc igitur nostrum ut fiat, dulcissime Jesu,
+      Nos dandi stabulis, vel tibi danda domus.
+
+_God with us._
+
+    Is God with us? Woe's me,
+    God is with you, ye beasts, I see.
+    God is with you, ye beasts;
+    God comes not to our golden feasts.
+    That God may be with us,
+    We must provide a lowly house.
+    God comes to the humble manger,
+    While to the great house a stranger.                  G.
+
+
+XCIII.
+
+_Christus circumcisus ad Patrem._
+
+    Has en primitias nostrae, Pater, accipe mortis;
+      Vitam ex quo sumpsi, vivere dedidici.
+    Ira, Pater, tua de pluvia gustaverit ista:
+      Olim ibit fluviis hoc latus omne suis.
+    Tunc sitiat licet et sitiat, bibet et bibet usque:
+      Tunc poterit toto fonte superba frui.
+    Nunc hastae interea possit praeludere culter:
+      Indolis in poenas spes erit ista meae.[59]
+
+
+XCIV.
+
+_In Epiphaniam Domini._ Matt. ii. 2.
+
+    Non solita contenta dies face lucis Eoae,
+      Ecce micat radiis caesariata novis.
+    Persa sagax, propera: discurre per ardua regum
+      Tecta, per auratas marmoreasque domus:
+    Quaere ô, quae intepuit Reginae purpura partu;
+      Principe vagitu quae domus insonuit.
+    Audin' Persa sagax? Qui tanta negotia coelo
+      Fecit, Bethlemiis vagiit in stabulis.
+
+_The Epiphany of our Lord._
+
+    Scorning her wonted herald, lo, the Day
+    Now decks her forehead with a brighter ray.
+    Sage Persian, haste; ask where high roofs unfold
+    Their royal wealth of marble and of gold;
+    In what rich couch an Empress-mother lies;
+    What halls have heard a new-born Prince's cries.
+    Wouldst know, sage Persian? He for whom Heaven keeps
+    Such festival, in Bethlehem's manger weeps.          CL.
+
+
+XCV.
+
+_Ecce quaerebamus te, &c._ Luc. ii. 49.
+
+    Te quaero misera, et quaero: tu nunc quoque tractas
+      Res Patris; Pater est unica cura tibi.
+    Quippe quod ad poenas tantum et tot nomina mortis,
+      Ad luctum et lacrymas, hei mihi! mater ego.
+
+_Lo, we have sought Thee, &c._
+
+    I seek Thee mourning, and I seek again:
+      Thou still Thy Father's business dost attend;
+    And me, alas, sad mother of all pain,
+      Of grief and tears, Thou surely wilt befriend.      G.
+
+
+XCVI.
+
+_Aquae in vinum versae._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis?
+      Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?
+    Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen:
+      Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.[60]
+
+_Water turned into wine._
+
+    Whence that blush upon thy brow,
+    Fair Nymph of the waters, now?
+    Mark the glow all rosy-red
+    Of the stream astonièd.
+    All the guests in tumult rush'd:
+    The shy Nymph saw her God, and blush'd.               G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Whence to your waters comes the glow of wine?
+      What strange new rose their mazèd streams hath flush'd?
+    Haste, guests, and own your Visitant divine;
+      For the chaste Nymph hath seen her God, and blush'd. CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Whence comes this rose, this ruddy colour strange?
+    What blushes new the wondering water change?
+    Mark, mark, gay guests, a present Deity!
+    The conscious water blush'd its God to see.           A.
+
+
+XCVII.
+
+_Absenti Centurionis filio Dominus absens medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Quam tacitis inopina salus illabitur alis!
+      Alis quas illi vox tua, Christe, dedit.
+    Quam longas vox ista manus habet! haec medicina
+      Absens et praesens haec medicina fuit.
+
+_The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant of the Centurion._
+
+    Safety unlook'd-for! silent 'light the wings
+    Wherewith Thy voice, O Christ, swift-healing brings:
+    Far-reaching hand Thy word has, and Thou healest
+    Absent and present, even as Thou willest.             G.
+
+
+XCVIII.
+
+_Quid timidi estis?_ Marc. iv. 40.
+
+    Tanquam illi insanus faceret sua fulmina ventus;
+      Tanquam illi scopulos norit habere fretum.
+    Vos vestri scopuli, vos estis ventus et unda:
+      Naufragium cum illo qui metuit, meruit.
+
+_Why are ye so fearful?_
+
+    As if to Him the winds their thunder threw;
+    As if to Him hard rocks the water knew.
+    Ye are your rocks, ye are your wind and wave:
+    Shiprack with Him who fear, deserve to have.          B.
+
+
+XCIX.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Ite mei, quid enim ulterius, quid vultis, ocelli?
+      Leniter obductis ite superciliis.
+    Immo et adhuc et adhuc, iterumque iterumque videte;
+      Accipite haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Jamque ite; et tutis ô vos bene claudite vallis:
+      Servate haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Primum est, quod potui te, Christe, videre: secundum,
+      Te viso, recta jam potuisse mori.[61]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    Begone, mine eyes; what would ye see beside?
+    Go now in peace 'neath darkening brows to hide.
+    Once and again, and yet again; behold;
+    With one long gaze His beams in yours enfold.
+    Then go, and guard your treasure safe from foes,
+    And fast in yours those beams of His enclose.
+    To look on Thee, O Christ, this first have I;
+    Then, having look'd on Thee, straightway to die.     CL.
+
+
+C.
+
+_In segetem sacram._ Matt. xiii. 24.
+
+    Ecce suam implorat, demisso vertice, falcem:
+      Tu segeti falcem da, Pater alme, suam.
+    Tu falcem non das? messem tu, Christe, moraris?
+      Hoc ipsum falx est; haec mora messis erit.
+
+_Good seed in the field._
+
+    Its sickle it implores with head bow'd low;
+    Its sickle on the corn-field, Lord, bestow.
+    Refusest Thou? The harvest dost delay?
+    The sickle this--hence fuller harvest-day.            G.
+
+
+CI.
+
+_Coepit lacrymis rigare pedes ejus, et capillis extergebat._ Luc. vii.
+37.
+
+    Unda sacras sordes lambit placidissima: flavae
+      Lambit et hanc undam lucida flamma comae.
+    Illa per has sordes it purior unda; simulque
+      Ille per has lucet purior ignis aquas.
+
+_She began to wash His feet with teares, and wipe them with the haires
+of her head._
+
+    Her eyes' flood lickes His feets' faire staine;
+    Her hair's flame lickes up that againe.
+    This flame thus quencht hath brighter beames;
+    This flood thus stainèd fairer streames.             CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    With placid force the gentle wave
+    That consecrated dust doth lave,
+    And a bright flame of golden hair
+    Doth lave in light those waters fair.
+    Purer the trickling waters shine
+    Through contact with that dust divine;
+    And purer through the waters' flow
+    That flame of lucent fire doth glow.                CL.
+
+
+CII.
+
+_Quid vis tibi faciam?_ Luc. xviii. 41.
+
+    Quid volo, Christe, rogas? quippe ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Quippe ad te, dulcis Christe, videre volo.
+    At video, fideique oculis te nunc quoque figo:
+      Est mihi, quae nunquam est non oculata, fides.
+    Sed quamvis videam, tamen ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Sed quoniam video, Christe, videre volo.
+
+_What seekest that I do to thee?_
+
+    Askest, O Christ, my wish? My Christ I wish to see:
+    To see Thee, O my sweet Christ, to see Thee.
+    But, lo, I see; for now on Thee I fix faith's eye,
+    And gazing so, dimness and darkness fly.
+    But though I see, yet, ah, my Christ I wish to see;
+    And since I see, O Christ, I would see Thee.          G.
+
+
+CIII.
+
+_Christus mulieri Canaaneae difficilior._ Matt. xv. 21.
+
+    Ut pretium facias dono, donare recusas:
+      Usque rogat supplex, tutamen usque negas.
+    Hoc etiam donare fuit, donare negare.
+      Saepe dedit quisquis saepe negata dedit.
+
+_The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan._
+
+    That He a gift more precious might bestow,
+      While she implor'd, discouragements He used.
+    This was to give thus not to give; for, lo,
+      He giveth oft who gives what's oft refused.[62]     G.
+
+
+CIV.
+
+_Beatus venter et ubera, &c._ Luc. ii. 27.
+
+    Et quid si biberet Jesus vel ab ubere vestro?
+      Quid facit ad vestram, quod bibit ille, sitim?
+    Ubera mox sua et hic, ô quam non lactea! pandet;
+      E nato mater tum bibet ipsa suo.
+
+_Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked._
+
+    Suppose He had been tabled at thy teates,
+    Thy hunger feeles not what He eates:
+    He'l have His teat ere long--a bloody one;
+    The mother then must suck the Son.                   CR.
+
+
+CV.
+
+_In Christum vitem._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Ulmum vitis amat, quippe est et in arbore flamma,
+      Quam fovet in viridi pectore blandus amor:
+    Illam ex arboribus cunctis tu, vitis, amasti;
+      Illam, quaecunque est, quae crucis arbor erat.
+
+_Christ the true Vine (including the branches)._
+
+    The vine clings lovingly unto the elm;
+    Love's flame draws thus a tree within its realm:
+    But most, O vine, thou lov'st, whate'er its name,
+    That tree from which the cross of Calvary came.       G.
+
+
+CVI.
+
+_Vos flebitis et lamentabimini._ Joan. xvi. 20.
+
+    Ergo mihi salvete mei, mea gaudia, luctus:
+      Quam charum, ô Deus, est hoc mihi flere meum!
+    Flerem, ni flerem: solus tu, dulcis Jesu,
+      Laetitiam donas tunc quoque quando negas.
+
+_Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament._
+
+    Welcome, my griefe, my joy; how deare's
+    To me my legacy of teares!
+    I'll weepe and weepe, and will therefore
+    Weepe 'cause I can weepe no more.
+    Thou, Thou, deare Lord, even Thou alone,
+    Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none.              CR.
+
+
+CVII.
+
+_In gregem Christi Pastoris._ Joan. x. 11.
+
+    O grex, ô nimium tanto Pastore beatus;
+      O ubi sunt tanto pascua digna grege?
+    Ne non digna forent tanto grege pascua, Christus
+      Ipse suo est Pastor, pascuum et ipse gregi.
+
+_Christ the good Shepherd._
+
+    O flock, O too much in thy Sheepherd blest,
+    Where are fields worthy thee to feed and rest?
+    Lest worthy pastures nowhere should be found,
+    Christ is to thee the Sheepherd and the ground.       B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    O flock, in your great Shepherd all too blest,
+      Where shall fit pasturage be found for you?
+    That His fair flock may ne'er want food or rest,
+      Christ is the Pastor and the pasture too.          CL.
+
+
+CVIII.
+
+_In vulnera pendentis Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 26-53.
+
+    Sive oculos, sive ora vocem tua vulnera; certe
+      Undique sunt ora, heu, undique sunt oculi.
+    Ecce ora, ô nimium roseis florentia labris!
+      Ecce oculi, saevis ah madidi lacrymis!
+    Magdala, quae lacrymas solita es, quae basia sacro
+      Ferre pedi, sacro de pede sume vices.
+    Ora pedi sua sunt, tua quo tibi basia reddat:
+      Quo reddat lacrymas scilicet est oculus.[63]
+
+
+_On the wounds of the crucified Lord._
+
+    Thy wounds, O Lord, are mouths and eyes--
+    Let not the strange words breed surprise:
+    Where'er I look, wounds seem to speak;
+    Where'er I look, wounds in tears break;
+    Mouths with ruddy lips disparted,
+    Eyes as of the broken-hearted.
+    Thou, Mary, on His sacred feet
+    Rainèdst thy tears and kisses sweet.
+    Now retake thy kisses, tears;
+    Cling thee there, there hush thy fears.
+    See, mouths and eyes are here also;
+    Swift they'll pay back thy loving woe.                G.
+
+
+CIX.
+
+_Paralyticus convalescens._ Marc. ii. 1-13.
+
+    Christum, quod misero facilis peccata remittit,
+      Scribae blasphemum dicere non dubitant.
+    Hoc scelus ut primum Paralyticus audiit: ira
+      Impatiens, lectum sustulit atque abiit.
+
+_The paralytic healed._
+
+    The Scribes audaciously blaspheme the Lord,
+    That He a poor man pardon'd with a word.
+    The Paralytic hears all that they say;
+    Indignant takes his bed, and walks away.              G.
+
+
+CX.
+
+_Tunc sustulerunt lapides._ Joan. viii. 59.
+
+    Saxa? illi? quid tam foedi voluere furores?
+      Quid sibi de saxis hi voluere suis?
+    Indolem, et antiqui agnosco vestigia patris:
+      Panem de saxis hi voluere suis.
+
+_Then took they up stones._
+
+    'They took up stones:' What meant they by such rage?
+      What wanted they with them? Their meaning's plain:
+    'Tis their old father's way--O sad presage!
+      He too took up the stones for bread amain.[64]      G.
+
+
+CXI.
+
+_In resurrectionem Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 6.
+
+    Nasceris, en, tecumque tuus, Rex auree, mundus,
+      Tecum[65] virgineo nascitur e tumulo.
+    Tecum in natales properat natura secundos,
+      Atque novam vitam te novus orbis habet.
+    Ex vita, Sol alme, tua vitam omnia sumunt:
+      Nil certe, nisi mors, cogitur inde mori.
+    At certe neque mors: nempe ut queat illa sepulchro,
+      Christe, tuo condi, mors volet ipsa mori.
+
+_On the Resurrection of the Lord._
+
+    Thou'rt born, and, lo, bright King, Thy world is born,
+    Is born with Thee from virgin tomb this morn.
+    Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,
+    And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.
+    Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath;
+    Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.
+    Nor is Death forced--since in Thy grave to lie,
+    Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXII.
+
+_Aliqui vero dubitabant._ Matt. xxviii. 17.
+
+    Scilicet et tellus dubitat,[66] tremebunda: sed ipsum hoc,
+      Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.
+    Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud
+      Hoc ipse dicunt,[67] dicere quod nequeunt.
+
+_But some doubted._
+
+    Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,
+    The wavering earth forbids you waver too.
+    The very keepers, if their voice you seek,
+    Though speechless, even by their silence speak.   R. WI.
+
+
+CXIII.
+
+_In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam suorum fidem._
+Joan. xx. 20.
+
+    His oculis, nec adhuc clausis coïere fenestris,
+      Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.
+    His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,
+      Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.
+
+_The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strengthening of
+His disciples' faith._
+
+    Thy love these eyes did open;
+      They're watching for us still:
+    These eyes, of love the token,
+      Our faith with love do fill.                        G.
+
+
+CXIV.
+
+_Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit._ Luc. vii. 19.
+
+    Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,
+      Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,
+    Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?
+      Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.[68]
+
+_John sends to Jesus ... saying, Art Thou He that should come? or look
+we for another?_
+
+    And dost _thou_ ask, who in thy mother's womb
+    So eager wast to hail Messiah come?
+    Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?
+    Why, even the very dumb can answer thee.             CL.
+
+
+CXV.
+
+_In Petrum auricidam._ Joan. xviii. 10.
+
+    Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,
+      Tu tibi jam pugnas, ô bone, non Domino.
+    Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,
+      Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.
+
+
+_On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare._
+
+    Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
+    Well for thyselfe, I meane, not for thy Lord.
+    To strike at eares is to take heed there bee
+    No witnesse, Peter, of thy perjury.                  CR.
+
+
+CXVI.
+
+_Manus arefacta sanatur._ Marc. iii. 1-5.
+
+    Felix, ergo tuae spectas natalia dextrae,
+      Quae modo spectanti flebile funus erat!
+    Quae nec in externos modo dextera profuit usus,
+      Certe erit illa tuae jam manus et fidei.[69]
+
+_The withered hand healed._
+
+    O happy man, thy right-hand's birth beholding,
+    Erewhile a sad funereal sight enfolding!
+    The hand of no use, by the word Christ saith,
+    Restor'd, is now become the hand of faith.       G. & B.
+
+
+CXVII.
+
+_In Pontium male lautum._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Illa manus lavat unda tuas, vanissime judex:
+      Ah tamen illa scelus non lavat unda tuum!
+    Nulla scelus lavet unda tuum: vel si lavet ulla,
+      O volet ex oculis illa venire tuis.
+
+
+_To Pontius washing his hands._
+
+    Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt
+    That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:
+    The flood, if any can, that can suffice,
+    Must have its fountaine in thine eyes.               CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:
+    Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.
+    No water washt it out: if any will,
+    'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil.       B.
+
+
+CXVIII.
+
+_In piscem dotatum._ Matt. xvii. 27.
+
+    Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque
+      Fert pretium: tanti est vel periisse tibi.
+    Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos
+      Non opus est: ipsum se tibi piscis emet.
+
+_The stater-giving fish._
+
+    A fish Thou wishest, Lord;
+    And without e'er a word,
+    Behold, it swims to Thee,
+    Fetching its own cost, free.
+    Thou needest not to go
+    In markets to and fro;
+    Nor need'st Thou price to bring--
+    The fish owns Thee its king.                          G.
+
+
+CXIX.
+
+_Ego vici mundum._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tu contra mundum dux es meus, optime Jesu?
+      At tu, me miserum! dux meus ipse jaces.
+    Si tu, dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis?
+      Immo, ni jaceas tu, mihi nulla salus.
+
+_I have overcome the world._
+
+    Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!
+    Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.
+    And if my Captain fall, what hope have I?
+    No hope at all, unless my Captain die.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?
+    But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.
+    If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?
+    Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be.           A.
+
+
+CXX.
+
+_In ascensionem Dominicam._ Act. i. 10.
+
+    Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia cœli:
+      It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.
+    Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus
+      Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.
+    At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phœbe,
+      Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.
+    Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:
+      Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?
+
+_On the ascension of our Lord._
+
+    Through open'd depths of His own heaven He soars,
+    And from His face in heaven a new heaven pours.
+    Scatter'd before Him down the welkin sinks
+    The sun, and its own sun's near glory drinks.
+    Moon unto sun for light no more beholden,
+    Now from more lustrous sun returns all golden.
+    These triumphs o'er Thyself Thou grantest, Lord;
+    Triumphs no other could suffice to 'accord.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXI.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii.
+
+    Jam cœli circum tonuit fragor: arma minasque
+      Turbida cum flammis mista ferebat hiems.
+    Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis,
+      Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.
+    Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro,
+      Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas;
+    Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse,
+      Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.
+
+    Οὐρανοῦ ἐκτύπησε βρόμος· πόλεμον καὶ ἀπειλὰς
+      Ἦγε τρέχων ἄνεμος σὺν φλογὶ σμερδαλέῃ.
+    Αὖεν Ἰουδαῖος· μιαρὰ στυγερῶν τὰ κάρηνα
+      Ἔφθασε τῆς ὀργῆς τὸ πρέπον οὐρανίης.
+    Ἀλλὰ γαληναίῳ ὅτε κεῖται ἥσυχον ἄστρῳ
+      Φλέγμα, καὶ ἀβλήτους λεὶχε φίλον πλοκάμους,
+    Ἑκθαμβεῖ. ὅτι γὰρ κείνοις οὐκ ἦεν ἀληθὴς,
+      Νῦν ἐτεὸν διότι τῷδε κεραυνὸς ἔην.
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Booms the thunder through the sky,
+      Flash the lightnings, threats the storm;
+    Cries the Jew with vengeful eye:
+      See SIN doom'd in fitting form!
+    But, lo, the lightning, paled to light
+      Mild and calm as ev'ning's star,
+    Binds their brows with nimbus bright,
+      Playing softly i' their hair.
+    To the Jews it is not lightning,
+    Yet the more the name's enlightening.[70]             G.
+
+
+CXXII.
+
+_Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet._ Joan. iii. 16.
+
+    Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae:
+      Guttula quod faceret, cur facit oceanus?
+    Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita:
+      Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.
+
+_God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son...._
+
+    Ah, 'tis too much to give Him for our sake:
+    A drop might serve, why then an ocean take?
+    Here may my life expatiate gloriously--
+    Amply, magnificently, Death may die.              R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIII.
+
+_Juga boum emi._ Luc. xiv. 19.
+
+    Ad coenam voco te, domini quod jussa volebant;
+      Tu mihi, nescio quos, dicis, inepte, boves.
+    Imo vale, nobis nec digne nec utilis hospes;
+      Coena tuos, credo, malit habere boves.
+
+_I have bought five yoke of oxen._
+
+    I call thee to His Supper,
+              for so The Master spake:
+    Thou sayest 'No,' pretending
+              thou must thy oxen take.
+    Farewell, O thou unworthy
+              and wholly useless guest;
+    Thy oxen for the Supper
+              in truth were better prest.                 G.
+
+
+CXXIV.
+
+_D. Paulum, verbo sanantem claudum, pro Mercurio Lystres adorant._ Act.
+xiv. 8-18.
+
+    Quis Tagus hic, quae Pactoli nova volvitur unda?
+      Non hominis vox est haec: Deus ille, Deus.
+    Salve, mortales nimium dignate penates:
+      Digna Deo soboles, digna tonante Deo.
+    O salve, quid enim, alme, tuos latuisse volebas?
+      Te dicit certe vel tua lingua Deum.
+    Laudem hanc haud miror: meruit facundus haberi,
+      Qui claudo promptos suasit habere pedes.
+
+_St. Paul, healing the lame man with a word, is worshipped by the
+Lystrians as Mercury._
+
+    What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?
+    'Tis not man's voice: a God, a God behold.
+    Hail, too much honour thou to men hast done,
+    Of Jove, of thundering Jove the worthy son.
+    Hail, Lord, for why wouldst hide thee from thine own?
+    A God e'en by thy tongue assuredly art known.
+    The praise of eloquence for him was meet
+    Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet.    R. WI.
+
+
+CXXV.
+
+_In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem._
+
+    Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?
+      Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?
+    Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris,
+      Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.
+    Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat,
+      Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?
+    Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare:
+      Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.[71]
+
+    Πῆ ταχύεργος ἄγει πτὲρυγ' ἀστερόεσσαν ἐρετμός;
+      Ἢ τίνι κεῖνα φέρει τὴν πόδα χιονέην;
+    Χριστὲ, τεῇ κεφαλῇ πάσαις πτερύγεσσιν ἐπείγει·
+      Πῆ σκιά τοι δασίοις παῖζε μάλα πλοκάμοις.
+    Ποῖά σοι ἀῤῥήτῳ ψιθυρίσματι κεῖν' ἀγορεύει;
+      Ἀρρήτ', οὐκ ἠχῆς ἶσα μὲν ἀνδρομέης.
+    Μοῦνα μὲν ἥδ' ὄρνις καλιᾶς ἐστ' ἀξία ταύτης·
+      Ἀξία δ' ὄρνιθος μοῦνα μὲν ἡ καλιά.
+
+_To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ._
+
+    On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?
+      Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?
+    O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head,
+      Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.
+    There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee,
+      A melody unlike all earthly sound:
+    That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee;
+      This nest alone worthy the Bird is found.           W.
+
+
+CXXVI.
+
+_In fores divo Petro sponte apertas._ Act. xii. 10.
+
+    Quid juvit clausisse fores, bone janitor, istas?
+      Et Petro claves jam liquet esse suas.
+    Dices, sponte patent: Petri ergo hoc scilicet ipsum
+      Est clavis, Petro clave quod haud opus est.
+
+_The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter._
+
+    Good jailor, how is this,
+      These doors thou lockest here?
+    That Peter has the keys
+      'Tis now to all men clear.
+    Thou say'st the doors self-open,
+      And well thou sayest indeed;
+    For by this very token
+      He no other key doth need.                          G.
+
+
+CXXVII.
+
+_Murmurabant Pharisaei, dicentes, Recipit peccatores, et comedit cum
+illis._ Luc. xv. 2.
+
+    Ah male, quisquis is est, pereat, qui scilicet istis
+      Convivam, saevus, non sinit esse suum!
+    Istis cum Christus conviva adjungitur, istis
+      O non conviva est Christus, at ipse cibus.[72]
+
+_The Pharisees murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth
+with them._
+
+    Ah, let him perish in his harsh protests
+    Who sinners checks to be the Saviour's guests!
+    Sinners do entertain Christ as a guest:
+    They spread the table, but He is the feast.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXVIII.
+
+_In trabem Pharisaicam._ Matt. vii. 3.
+
+    Cedant, quae, rerum si quid tenue atque minutum est,
+      Posse acie certa figere, vitra dabunt.
+    Artis opus mirae! Pharisaeo en optica trabs est,
+      Ipsum, vera loquor, qua videt ille nihil.
+
+
+_On the beam of the Pharisee._
+
+    Grant you can fix upon a needle's end
+    Each smallest object microscopes will lend.
+    Rare beam to look through has the Pharisee,
+    Whereby, in sooth, nothing itself sees he!        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIX.
+
+_Constituerunt ut si quis confiteretur eum esse Christum, synagoga
+moveretur._ Joan. ix. 22.
+
+    Infelix, Christum reus es quicunque colendi;
+      O reus infelix, quam tua culpa gravis!
+    Tu summis igitur, summis damnabere cœlis:
+      O reus infelix, quam tua poena gravis!
+
+_They determined that if any man should confess Him to be Christ, he
+should be put out of the synagogue._
+
+    Alas, unhappy, own the Christ thou wilt;
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful is thy guilt.
+    The gates of heaven for aye should keep thee close:
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful are thy woes.                A.
+
+
+CXXX.
+
+_De voto filiorum Zebedaei._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    Sit tibi, Joannes, tibi sit, Jacobe, quod optas;
+      Sit tibi dextra manus; sit tibi laeva manus.
+    Spero alia in coelo est, et non incommoda, sedes;
+      Si neque laeva manus, si neque dextra manus.
+    Coeli hanc aut illam nolo mihi quaerere partem;
+      O coelum, coelum da, Pater alme, mihi.
+
+_Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee._
+
+    O brothers twain, may it be yours to fill
+    At right and left your places as ye will!
+    A seat remains, I trust--a fair one too--
+    Besides those high ones that were sought for you.
+    I pray not that to me some part be given,
+    But heaven itself, kind Father, grant me heaven.     CL.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    John and James, take your place at God's command:
+    One at the right, th' other at the left hand.
+    I ask not to be placèd so, or so:
+    To heaven, to heaven, good Father, let me go.         B.
+
+
+CXXXI.
+
+_Ad hospites coenae miraculosae quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 9-13.
+
+    Vescere pane tuo, sed et, hospes, vescere Christo;
+      Et panis pani scilicet ille tuo.
+    Tunc pane hoc Christi recte satur, hospes, abibis,
+      Panem ipsum Christum si magis esurias.[73]
+
+_To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves._
+
+    Feed on thy bread, on Christ too feed, O guest;
+    With Bread on bread forsooth thou shalt be blest.
+    Then shalt thou go, with Christ's bread satisfied,
+    If hungering for the living Bread beside.         R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXII.
+
+_De Christi contra mundum pugna._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contra
+      Ferre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?
+    I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:
+      Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.
+
+_Christ overcoming the world._
+
+    O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonder
+    Thou dar'st lift unarm'd hands against my thunder.
+    Go, tyrant; put thy chains upon these hands:
+    'Tis done; and now full-arm'd the prisoner stands.    G.
+
+
+CXXXIII.
+
+_Graeci disputatores divo Paulo mortem machinantur._ Act. ix. 29.
+
+    Euge, argumentum! sic disputat: euge, sophista!
+      Sic pugnum Logices stringere, sic decuit.
+    Hoc argumentum in causam quid, Graecule, dicit?
+      Dicit, te in causam dicere posse nihil.[74]
+
+_The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul._
+
+    O noble argument, Sophister rare!
+    Thus Logic's fist to double be your care.
+    This argument, poor Greek, what does it weigh?
+    It says that you have nought at all to say.       R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXIV.
+
+_Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus._ Luc. xxii. 26.
+
+    O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?
+      At vero fies hac ratione minor.
+    Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,
+      Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.
+
+_He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger._
+
+    The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?
+    Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.
+    That thou mai'st not go less, to every one
+    Submit: this, this is Christ's ambition.              B.
+
+
+CXXXV.
+
+_In lacrymantem Dominum._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Vobis, Judaei, vobis haec volvitur unda;
+      Quae vobis, quoniam spernitis, ignis erit.
+    Eia faces, Romane, faces! seges illa furoris,
+      Non nisi ab his undis, ignea messis erit.
+
+_He beheld the city, and wept over it._
+
+    For you, O Jews, is roll'd this tearful tide,
+    Which as a flame shall glow, since ye deride.
+    Torches, Rome's torches--those wild-waving ears
+    A fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVI.
+
+_Christus in Aegypto._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Hunc tu, Nile, tuis majori flumine monstra;
+      Hunc, nimis ignotum, dic caput esse tibi.
+    Jam tibi, Nile, tumes; jam te quoque multus inunda:
+      Ipse tuae jam sis laetitiae fluvius.
+
+_Christ in Egypt._
+
+    With prouder stream, Nile, show Him to thine own;
+    Call Him thy fountain-head, too little known:
+    Now swelling for thyself, thyself o'erflow;
+    And with its own joy let thy current glow.        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVII.
+
+_In caecos Christum confitentes, Pharisaeos abnegantes._ Matt. ix.
+27-31.
+
+    Ne mihi tu, Pharisaee ferox, tua lumina jactes:
+      En caecus! Christum caecus at ille videt.
+    Tu, Pharisaee, nequis in Christo cernere Christum:
+      Ille videt caecus; caecus es ipse videns.[75]
+
+_The blind confessing Christ, the Pharisees denying._
+
+    Cast not thine eyes on me, proud Pharisee,
+    Lo, this blind man, though blind, yet Christ can see.
+    Thou, Pharisee, canst not in Christ Christ find;
+    The blind man sees Him, and the seer's blind.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXXVIII.
+
+_Si quis pone me veniet, tollat crucem et sequatur me._ Matt. xvi. 24.
+
+    Ergo sequor, sequor, en, quippe et mihi crux mea, Christe, est:
+      Parva quidem; sed quam non satis, ecce, rego.
+    Non rego? non parvam hanc? ideo neque parva putanda est.
+      Crux magna est, parvam non bene ferre crucem.
+
+
+_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his
+cross and follow Me._
+
+    Therefore I follow, lo, I follow on;
+      My cross is with me, yet not rightly worn.
+    It little is compar'd with Thine, I own;
+      Yet little is not being wrongly borne.              G.
+
+
+CXXXIX.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequutus est eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Quas Matthaeus opes, ad Christi jussa, reliquit;
+      Tum primum vere coepit habere suas.[76]
+    Iste malarum est usus opum bonus, unicus iste;
+      Esse malas homini, quas bene perdat, opes.
+
+_And he left all ... and followed Him._
+
+    To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did take
+    The right way, when he left all for Christ's sake.
+    This is the one good use of ill-got wealth;
+    For ill-got 'tis which, leaving, bringeth health.  B. & G.
+
+
+CXL.
+
+_Aedificatis sepulchra Prophetarum._ Matt. xxiii. 29.
+
+    Sanctorum in tumulis quid vult labor ille colendis?
+      Sanctorum mortem non sinit ille mori.
+    Vane, Prophetarum quot ponis saxa sepulchris,
+      Tot testes lapidum, queis periere, facis.
+
+
+_Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets._
+
+    Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeath
+    The life thou took'st from him unto his death.
+    Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lye
+    Keepe but the score[77] of them that made him dye.   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What means this labour on the tombs of saints,
+      Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?
+    Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaints
+      Doth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd.  G.
+
+
+CXLI.
+
+_In manum aridam qua Christo mota est miseratio._ Marc. iii. 3-5.
+
+    Prende, miser, Christum; et cum Christo prende salutem:
+      At manca est, dices, dextera: prende tamen.
+    Ipsum hoc, in Christum, manus est: hoc prendere Christum est,
+      Qua Christum prendas, non habuisse manum.
+
+_The man with the withered hand, who excited Christ's compassion._
+
+    Take hold of Christ, O wretched one,
+    And with Christ take salvation.
+    But thy right hand, thou say'st, is dead;
+    Yet take thee hold: His word is said.
+    Take hold of Christ e'en without hand;
+    Then safe in Christ, and well, thou'lt stand:
+    Take hold of Christ in simple faith;
+    This will be hand to thee, He saith.                  G.
+
+
+CXLII.
+
+_Ad D. Lucam medicum._ Coloss. iv. 14.
+
+    Nulla mihi, Luca, de te medicamina posco,
+      Ipse licet medicus sis, licet aeger ego:
+    Quippe ego in exemplum fidei dum te mihi pono,
+      Tu, medice, ipse mihi es tu medicina mea.
+
+    Οὐδὲν ἐγὼ, Λουκᾶ, παρά σου μοὶ φάρμακον αἰτῶ,
+      Κἂν σὺ δ' ἰατρὸς ἔῃς, κἂν μὲν ἐγὼ νοσερός.
+    Ἀλλ' ἐν ὅσῳ παράδειγμα πέλεις μοὶ πίστιος, αὐτὸς,
+      Αὐτὸς ἰατρὸς ἐμοί γ' ἐσσὶ ἀκεστορίη.
+
+_Luke the beloved physician._
+
+    No medicine of thee, O Luke, I seek,
+    Though thou art a physician, and I sick:
+    Th' example of thy faith before my eyen,
+    To me, physician, is the medicine.                    B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+_To St. Luke as a physician._
+
+    No medicine will I crave, Saint Luke, of thee,
+    Though I be sick, though thou physician be:
+    Pattern of faith, I plant thee in my soul,
+    And thou thyself the medicine makest me whole.        A.
+
+
+CXLIII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatus, Christum jam sitiens._ Luc. xiv. 4.
+
+    Pellitur inde sitis, sed et hinc sitis altera surgit;
+      Hinc sitit ille magis, quo sitit inde minus.
+    Felix ô, et mortem poterit qui temnere morbus;
+      Cui vitae ex ipso fonte sititur aqua.
+
+_The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ._
+
+    Thy dropsy's quench'd, but other thirst now rises,
+      Which craves the more, the less the former thirsts.
+    O happy malady, which death despises:
+      Thirst for the stream which from life's fountain bursts. G.
+
+
+CXLIV.
+
+_In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum._
+
+    Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus
+      Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:
+    Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,
+      Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.
+    O ver, ô longae semper seges aurea lucis;
+      Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;
+    O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;
+      O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;
+    Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;
+      Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos--quid ago?
+
+_To the assembly of all the Saints._
+
+    Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,
+    Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:
+    Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,
+    Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.
+    O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;
+    Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;
+    The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,
+    The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;
+    The regions of unfading peace ye see,
+    And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me![78]  W.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt
+    Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.
+    Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,
+    And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.
+    O ever-ripening harvest of long light;
+    O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;
+    O hands with laughing palms, O crownèd brows;
+    O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!
+    The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see--
+    The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea--woe is me!           A.
+
+
+CXLV.
+
+_Christus absenti medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Vox jam missa suas potuit jam tangere metas?
+      O superi, non hoc ire sed isse fuit.
+    Mirac'lum fuit ipsa salus, bene credere possis,
+      Ipsum, mirac'lum est, quando salutis iter.
+
+
+_Christ heals in absence._
+
+    Came, then, His voice with power, Himself unseen?
+    Heavens! this, though not to go, was to have been.
+    The cure miraculous we can credit well,
+    When the mere going was a miracle.                   CL.
+
+
+CXLVI.
+
+_Caecus natus._ Joan. ix. 1, 2.
+
+    Felix, qui potuit tantae post nubila noctis,
+      O dignum tanta nocte, videre diem:
+    Felix ille oculus, felix utrinque putandus,
+      Quod videt, et primum quod videt ille Deum.
+
+_The man born blind._
+
+    Happy the man who was endu'd with sight,
+    And saw a day well worth so long a night:
+    Happy the eye, twice happy is the eye,
+    That sees, and at first look, a Deity.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy eye, that after such dark night--
+    Day worthy night so dark--couldst see the light:
+    O happy eye, eye thrice and four times blest,
+    At once to ope, and upon God to rest.                 A.
+
+
+CXLVII.
+
+_Et ridebant illum._ Matt. ix. 24.
+
+    Luctibus in tantis, Christum ridere vacabat?
+      Vanior iste fuit risus, an iste dolor?
+    Luctibus in tantis hic vester risus inepti,
+      Credite mi, meruit maximus esse dolor.
+
+_And they laughed at Him._
+
+    Laughter at Christ the Saviour--
+            Laughter 'mid falling tears!
+    O, which show'd greater folly,
+            Vain laughter or vain fears?
+    Such laughter 'mid such sorrow,
+            O fools, ye may believe:
+    Such laughter in such Presence
+            Gave greatest cause to grieve.                G.
+
+
+CXLVIII.
+
+_In sapientiam seculi._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Noli altum sapere, hoc veteres voluere magistri,
+      Ne retrahat lassos alta ruina gradus.
+    Immo mihi dico, Noli sapuisse profundum:
+      Non ego ad infernum me sapuisse velim.
+
+_The wisdom of the world._
+
+    'Aim not at things too high,' 'twas said of old,
+    'Lest ruin thence o'ertake thee, over-bold.'
+    For me to dive too deep I think not well:
+    I would not have my knowledge deep as hell.          CL.
+
+
+CXLIX.
+
+_In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus._
+
+    Illa domus stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est:
+      Illa domus, qua tu nasceris, est stabulum?
+    Illa domus toto domus est pulcherrima mundo;
+      Vix coelo dici vult minor illa tuo.[79]
+    Cernis ut illa suo passim domus ardeat auro?
+      Cernis ut effusis rideat illa rosis?
+    Sive aurum non est, nec quae rosa rideat illic;
+      Ex oculis facile est esse probare tuis.
+
+    Οἶκος ὅδ' ἐστ' αὐλή; οὐ μή. τεὸς οἶκος, Ἰησοῦ,
+      Ἔν θ' ᾧ τὺ τίκτῃ αὔλιον οὐ πέλεται.
+    Οἴκων μὲν πάντων μάλα δὴ κάλλιστος ἐκεῖνος·
+      Οὐρανοῦ οὐδὲ τεοῦ μικρότερος πέλεται.
+    Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέῳ δῶμ' ἐμπυρίζετο χρυσῷ,
+      Ἠνίδε κεῖνο νέοις δῶμα ῥόδοισι γελᾷ.
+    Ἤν ῥόδον οὐχὶ γελᾷ, ἢν οὐδέ τε χρυσὸς ἐκεῖθεν·
+      Ἐκ σοῦ δ' ὀφθαλμῶν ἐστιν ἐλεγχέμεναι.
+
+_On the stable where our Lord was born._
+
+    That house a stable? nay, bright Infant, nay:
+    Where Thou art born--a stable do we say?
+    Of mansions in this world fairest of all,
+    That house but little less than heaven we call.
+    Seest thou that house with golden splendour flush?
+    Seest thou that house with scatter'd roses blush?
+    There is no gold, no rose there laughing lies:
+    It is the light that falls from His fair eyes.        A.
+
+
+CL.
+
+_S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus._ Act. vii. 57-60.
+
+    Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustum
+      Haec mihi sint mortis conscia saxa meae.
+    Sic nec opus fuerit, notet ut quis carmine bustum,
+      Pro Domino, dicens, occidit ille suo.
+    Hic mihi sit tumulus, quem mors dedit ipsa; meique
+      Ipse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.
+
+_St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument._
+
+    I pray you, raise, my friends, no tomb for me,
+    But let these conscious stones my record be;
+    Nor will there then be need of verse to tell
+    That here for his dear Lord a martyr fell.
+    That which brought death, a tomb shall also bring,
+    And be the witness of my witnessing.                CL.
+
+
+CLI.
+
+_In D. Joannem, quem Domitianus ferventi oleo illaesum indidit._
+
+    Illum qui, toto currens vaga flammula mundo,
+      Non quidem Joannes, ipse sed audit amor--
+    Illum ignem extingui, bone Domitiane, laboras?
+      Hoc non est oleum, Domitiane, dare.[80]
+
+_On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron of boiling oil, he
+unhurt._
+
+    That fire--which o'er the world a wandering flame,
+    Bears not the name of John, but Love's own name--
+    To quench, my good Domitian, dost thou toil?
+    Fire scarce is quench'd, methinks, by adding oil.    CL.
+
+
+CLII.
+
+_In tenellos martyres._
+
+    Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitae
+      Hoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.
+    At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortis
+      Hoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.
+
+_The infant-martyrs._
+
+    Fallen, alas, in life's most tender dawn,
+      With only so much life as die they may.
+    But they 'gainst whom Death's arrows thus are drawn,
+      Only taste death that they may live for aye.        G.
+
+
+CLIII.
+
+_Attulerunt ei omnes male affectos daemoniacos, lunaticos: et sanavit
+eos._ Matt. iv. 24.
+
+    Collige te tibi, torve Draco, furiasque facesque,
+      Quasque vocant pestes nox Erebusque suas:
+    Fac colubros jam tota suos tua vibret Erinnys;
+      Collige, collige te fortiter, ut pereas.
+
+_They brought unto Him all sick people that were taken with divers
+diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and
+those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and He healed
+them._
+
+    Gather thy powers, grim Dragon, furies, flames,
+    All plagues which Erebus or midnight claims,
+    Bid each Erinnys high her serpents flourish;
+    Bring all, bring all, that thou mayst wholly perish.[81]  R. WI.
+
+
+CLIV.
+
+_Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius._ Luc. ii. 35.
+
+    Quando habeat gladium tua, Christe, tragoedia nullum,
+      Quis fuerit gladius, Virgo beata, tuus?
+    Namque nec ulla alias tibi sunt data vulnera, Virgo,
+      Quam quae a vulneribus sunt data, Christe, tuis.
+    Forsan quando senex jam caligantior esset,
+      Quod Simeon gladium credidit, hasta fuit.
+    Immo neque hasta fuit, neque clavus, sed neque spina:
+      Hei mihi, spina tamen, clavus et hasta fuit.
+    Nam queiscunque malis tua, Christe, tragoedia crevit,
+      Omnia sunt gladius, Virgo beata, tuus.
+
+_A sword shall pierce through thy own soul._
+
+    Since in the tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not any wounds are given,
+    Save as her Son is riven:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Perchance the dim-ey'd seer
+    By sword intended spear:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not spear or nail or thorn,
+    Yet by all these I'm torn:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    O whence, then, comes the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    In the dread tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,
+    Smote Thee, pierc'd as a sword
+                  Mary, the virgin-mother.                G.
+
+
+CLV.
+
+_In sanguinem circumcisionis dominicae. Ad convivas, quos haec dies apud
+nos solennes habet._
+
+    Heus, conviva! bibin'? Maria haec, Mariaeque puellus,
+      Mittunt de prelo musta bibenda suo.
+    Una quidem est, toti quae par tamen unica mundo,
+      Unica gutta, suo quae tremit orbiculo.
+    O bibite hinc; quale aut quantum vos cunque bibistis,
+      Credite mi, nil tam suave bibistis adhuc.
+    O bibite et bibite, et restat tamen usque bibendum:
+      Restat, quod poterit nulla domare sitis.
+    Scilicet hic, mensura sitis, mensura bibendi est:
+      Haec quantum cupias vina bibisse, bibis.
+
+_On the blood of the Lord's circumcision._
+
+    Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divine
+    Send from their press, for drinking, this new wine.
+    One drop, yet this round world in worth resembling,
+    A single drop in tiny circlet trembling.
+    Drink hence; whate'er ye've drunk, how much soever,
+    Trust me, such pleasant drink ye've met with never.
+    Drink, drink again; to drink is left for you--
+    Is left what mortal thirst can ne'er subdue.
+    Thirst's limit here will drinking's bound define:
+    You drink all that you would drink of this wine.  R. WI.
+
+
+CLVI.
+
+_Puer Jesus inter doctores._ Luc. ii. 46.
+
+    Fallitur, ad mentum qui pendit quemque profundum,
+      Ceu possint laeves nil sapuisse genae.
+    Scilicet e barba male mensuratur Apollo;
+      Et bene cum capitis stat nive, mentis hyems.
+    Discat, et a tenero disci quoque posse magistro,
+      Canitiem capitis nec putet esse caput.
+
+_The Child Jesus among the doctors._
+
+    To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain,
+    As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain.
+    Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit;
+    With mental winter snowy head may fit.
+    Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall,
+    Nor think a hoary head the head of all.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLVII.
+
+_Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis:
+      In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas.
+    Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens,
+      Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas.
+
+_To our Lord, upon the water made wine._
+
+    Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life;
+      Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne,
+    Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife,
+      And so turnes wine to water backe againe.          CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Blessing's in Thy every sign,
+      But the Tempter each pollutes:
+    Thou the water makest wine,
+      He the wine to woe transmutes.                      G.
+
+
+CLVIII.
+
+_Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo._ Luc. ii. 22-33.
+
+    Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco;
+      Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat.
+    Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum,
+      Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat.
+    Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae
+      Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu.
+    Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore,
+      Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis.
+    Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso
+      Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.
+
+_The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple._
+
+    Let the lamb go, by hornèd sire to play;
+    The turtle, with its mate, flee far away:
+    No need is here of lamb to mediate,
+    Or tender bird to bear another's fate.
+    At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd,
+    Receiv'd by One who much allowance made.
+    This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake,
+    'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.'
+    A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear
+    Being fit for God, since God Himself is here.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLIX.
+
+_Leprosus Dominum implorans._ Matt. viii. 2.
+
+    Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo,
+      Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles.
+    Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus;
+      Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.[82]
+
+_The leper beseeching._
+
+    I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing,
+      And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able.
+    Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling,
+      Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable.     G.
+
+
+CLX.
+
+_Christus in tempestate._ Matt. viii. 23-27.
+
+    Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu,
+      Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est.
+    Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore,
+      Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos.
+
+_Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?_
+
+              As if the storme meant Him,
+              Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,
+                  His needs a cloud.
+              Was ever froward wind
+              That could be so unkind,
+                  Or wave so proud?
+    The wind had need be angry, and the water black,
+    That to the mighty Neptune's Self dare threaten wrack.
+              There is no storm but this
+              Of your own cowardise
+                  That braves you out;
+              You are the storme that mocks
+              Yourselves; you are the rocks
+                  Of your owne doubt:
+    Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,
+    And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    That the Sea with such violence falls on,
+    'Tis not his malice, but ambition:
+    This the ambition, this the loud request,
+    At Thy command, O Christ, to take his rest.           B.
+
+
+CLXI.
+
+_Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus Romani._
+Act. xvi. 21.
+
+    Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solis
+      Romanis igitur non licet esse piis?
+    Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armis
+      Altus anhelanti detonuisset equo;
+    Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbem
+      Sueta tibi in signis torva venire tuis:
+    Quam miser ut staret de te tibi, Roma, triumphus,
+      Ut tanta fieres ambitione nihil.
+    Non tibi, sed sceleri vincis: proh laurea tristis,
+      Laurea, Cerbereis aptior umbra comis.
+    Tam turpi vix ipse pater diademate Pluto,
+      Vix sedet ipse suo tam niger in solio.
+    De tot Caesareis redit hoc tibi, Roma, triumphis:
+      Caesaree, aut, quod idem est, egregie misera es.
+
+_They teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to
+observe, being Romans._
+
+    Rome, have thy Cæsar's arms wrought this for thee,
+    That Romans only may not Christians be?
+    Better for thee no Cæsar had waged war,
+    High-thundering on his fiery steed afar;
+    Nor eagle's lordly form o'er all the world
+    Had aye on thy stern ensigns been unfurl'd.
+    How poor a triumph, Rome, o'er thyself wrought,
+    By dint of such ambition to be--nought!
+    Conquering for sin, not Rome; sad laurel-wreath,
+    More fit to shadow Cerberus' locks beneath.
+    Old Pluto scarce wears diadem so base,
+    Sits scarce so swart enthron'd in his own place.
+    Cæsarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee--
+    Cæsarean, that is, highest misery.                R. WI.
+
+
+CLXII.
+
+_Hic lapis fiat panis._ Matt. iv. 3.
+
+    Et fuit ille lapis, quidni sit dicere? panis,
+      Christe, fuit: panis sed tuus ille fuit.
+    Quippe Patris cum sic tulerit suprema voluntas,
+      Est panis, panem non habuisse, tuus.
+
+    Ἀρτος ἔην τοι δῆτ', εἰπεῖν θέμις ἐστὶν, ἐκεῖνος,
+      Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην και λίθος, ἀλλὰ τεός.
+    Ἢν οὓτως τοῦ πατρὸς ἔῃ μεγάλου τὸ θέλημα,
+      Ἄρτος ὅτ' οὐκ ἦν τοι, Χριστὲ, τοι ἄρτος ἔην.
+
+_Command that this stone become a loaf._
+
+    And so it was; bread was that stone;
+    Such bread, Christ, as was all Thine own.
+    Since God so will'd that it should be,
+    To have no bread was bread to Thee.                   G.
+
+
+CLXIII.
+
+_Mulier Canaanitis._ Matt. xv. 22.
+
+    Quicquid Amazoniis dedit olim fama puellis,
+      Credite: Amazoniam cernimus, ecce, fidem.
+    Foemina, tam fortis fidei? jam credo fidem esse
+      Plus quam grammatice foeminei generis.
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Whate'er Fame tells of Amazons of old,
+    Believe: here Amazonian faith behold.
+    Of such strong faith a woman? Faith I see
+    More than in grammar feminine to be.              R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIV.
+
+_Deus, post expulsum daemonem mutum, maledicis Judaeis os obturat._ Luc.
+xi. 14.
+
+    Una pene opera duplicem tibi daemona frangis:
+      Iste quidem daemon mutus; at ille loquax.
+    Scilicet in laudes, quae non tibi laurea surgit?
+      Non magis hic loquitur, quam tacet ille tuas.
+
+_Upon the dumbe devill cast out, and the slanderous Jewes put to
+silence._
+
+    Two devills at one blow Thou hast laid flat;
+    A speaking devill this, a dumbe one that.
+    Was't Thy full victorie's fairer increase,
+    That th' one spake, or that th' other held his peace? CR.
+
+
+CLXV.
+
+_Dicebant, Vere hic est Propheta._ Joan. vi. 14.
+
+    Post tot quae videant, tot quae miracula tangant,
+      Haec et quae gustent, Christe, dabas populo:
+    Jam Vates, Rex, et quicquid pia nomina possunt,
+      Christus erat: vellem dicere, venter erat.
+    Namque his, quicquid erat Christus, de ventre repleto
+      Omne illud vero nomine venter erat.
+
+_They said, This is of a truth that Prophet._
+
+    When Christ had given the multitude so much,
+    So many miracles to see, taste, touch;
+    Now Prophet, King, the holiest name Heaven wishes,
+    Was Christ: I'd rather call it 'Loaves and fishes.'
+    Whate'er Christ was, to their stay'd appetite
+    'Twas all more truly 'Loaves and fishes' dight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVI.
+
+_Christus ambulabat in porticu Salomonis, et hyems erat._ Joan. x. 22.
+
+    Bruma fuit? non, non; ah, non fuit ore sub isto:
+      Si fuit, haud anni, nec sua bruma fuit.
+    Bruma tibi vernis velit ire decentior horis,
+      Per sibi non natas expatiata rosas.
+    At tibi ne possit se tam bene bruma negare,
+      Sola haec, quam vibrat gens tua, grando[83] vetat.
+
+_It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch._
+
+    Was't winter? No, O no; beneath that Face:
+    At least no natural winter there found place.
+    Winter for Thee would breathe Spring's beauteous hours,
+    With roses crowd its unaccustom'd bowers.
+    But lest so sweetly Winter should retire,
+    Lo, this hail hinders, hurl'd by Jewish ire.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVII.
+
+_Dederunt nummos militibus._ Matt. xxviii. 12.
+
+    Ne miles velit ista loqui, tu munera donas?
+      Donas, quod possit, cum tacet ipse, loqui.
+    Quae facis a quoquam, pretio suadente, taceri;
+      Clarius, et dici turpius ista facis.
+
+_They gave large money to the soldiers._
+
+    The soldiers' silence is't with money bought?
+    Thy gift will tell a tale, though they say nought.
+    Whatever with a bribe thou fain wouldst hide,
+    More shamefully thou spreadest far and wide.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVIII.
+
+_Beatae Virgini: de salutatione angelica._ Luc. i. 26-28.
+
+    Χαῖρε suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;
+      Χαῖρε tuum penna candidiore venit.
+    Sed taceat, qui χαῖρε tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;
+      Χαῖρε meum penna candidiore venit.
+    Quis dicat mihi χαῖρε meum mage candidus autor,
+      Quam tibi quae dicat candidus ille tuum?
+    Virgo, rogas, quid candidius quam candidus ille
+      Esse potest? Virgo, quae rogat, esse potest.
+    Χαῖρε tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;
+      Donas candidior tu mihi χαῖρε meum.
+    Χαῖρε meum de χαῖρε tuo quid differat, audi:
+      Ille tuum dicit, tu paris, ecce, meum.
+
+_To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation._
+
+    Its 'hail' Cæsarean eagle need not bring;
+    Thy 'hail' comes wafted on a whiter wing.
+    But let the 'all-hail' angel e'en be still;
+    My 'hail' comes flitting on a whiter quill.
+    To say my 'hail' what whiter being can be
+    Than that white being who utters thine to thee?
+    Virgin, dost ask what whiter than that white
+    Might be? The Virgin who is asking, might.
+    That white one, Virgin, may give 'hail' to thee;
+    But thou, more white, dost give my 'hail' to me.
+    My 'hail' o'er thy 'hail,' wouldst thou know its worth;
+    He utters thine, but mine thou bringest forth.    R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIX.
+
+_Pontio lavanti._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,
+      Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?
+    Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis
+      Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.
+    Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,
+      Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.
+    Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:
+      Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.
+
+_To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands._
+
+    Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape
+                      That thou need'st heape
+    A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch
+      Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,
+    She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;
+      Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
+    The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine
+    As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.
+
+    See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares
+                      Nothing but teares:
+    Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.
+      Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;
+    Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,
+      And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.
+    Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree
+    What water shal wash this when this hath washèd thee. CR.
+
+
+CLXX.
+
+_In die passionis dominicae._
+
+    Tamne ego sim tetricus? valeant jejunia: vinum
+      Est mihi dulce meo, nec pudet esse, cado.
+    Est mihi quod castis, neque prelum passa, racemis
+      Palmite virgineo protulit uva parens.
+    Hoc mihi, ter denis sat enim maturuit annis,
+      Tandem, ecce, e dolio praebibit hasta suo.
+    Jamque it; et ô quanto calet actus aromate torrens,
+      Acer ut hinc aura divite currit odor!
+    Quae rosa per cyathos volitat tam vina Falernos?
+      Massica quae tanto sidere vina tremunt?
+    O ego nescibam; atque ecce est vinum illud amoris,
+      Unde ego sim tantis, unde ego par cyathis.
+    Vincor: et ô istis totus prope misceor auris:
+      Non ego sum tantis, non ego par cyathis.
+    Sed quid ego invicti metuo bona robora vini?
+      Ecce est, quae validum diluit[84] unda merum.
+
+_On the day of the Lord's Passion._
+
+    Should I be dull? Fastings farewell! Sweet wine
+    I have--nor am asham'd--in cask of mine,
+    Which the full grape, unprest, from virgin shoot
+    Produced for me in purest cluster'd fruit.
+    This wine, now mellow'd by the thirtieth year,
+    Lo, from the 'wood' will pour at touch of spear.
+    It pours, and O how sweet the torrent glows,
+    How sharp an odour on the rich air flows!
+    What bouquet thus breathes from Falernian jars?
+    What Massic wines tremble beneath such stars?
+    O, I knew not; and, lo, this is Love's wine,
+    Whence I such draughts, e'en I, need not decline.
+    Vanquish'd, I wholly faint these airs along;
+    I am no match, not I, for draughts so strong.
+    But wherefore fear I their blest strength divine?
+    Behold the water mingled with the wine!           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXI.
+
+_In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena ferens
+aromata._
+
+    Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phœnicis adora;
+      Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.
+    Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;
+      Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.
+    Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:
+      Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.
+    Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:
+      Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.
+    His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,
+      Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.
+    Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,
+      Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.
+    Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari
+      Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.
+
+_On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing spices
+cometh to the sepulchre._ Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.
+
+    Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phœnix' tomb;
+    Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.
+    With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen--
+    Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;
+    But these--no herbs nor spices equal them--
+    These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.
+    One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,
+    Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.
+    With these--her Lord's head in amomum laid--
+    The humble feet the head's despair she made.
+    Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,
+    She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.
+    Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too
+    Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew.           A.
+
+
+CLXXII.
+
+_In cicatrices Domini adhuc superstites._ Luc. xxiv. 31.
+
+    Arma vides; arcus, pharetramque levesque sagittas,
+      Et quocunque fuit nomine miles Amor.
+    His fuit usus Amor: sed et haec fuit ipse; suumque
+      Et jaculum, et jaculis ipse pharetra suis.
+    Nunc splendent tantum, et deterso pulvere belli
+      E memori pendent nomina magna tholo.
+    Tempus erit tamen, haec irae quando arma pharetramque,
+      Et sobolem pharetrae spicula tradet Amor.
+    Heu, qua tunc anima, quo stabit conscia vultu,
+      Quum scelus agnoscet dextera quaeque suum?
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles,
+      Qua tibi cunque tuus luserit arte furor.
+    Seu digito suadente tuo mala laurus inibat
+      Temporibus; sacrum seu bibit hasta latus:
+    Sive tuo clavi saevum rubuere sub ictu;
+      Seu puduit jussis ire flagella tuis.
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles:
+      Quod dederis vulnus, cernere, vulnus erit.
+    Plaga sui vindex clavosque rependet et hastam:
+      Quoque rependet, erit clavus et hasta sibi.
+    Quis tam terribiles, tam justas moverit iras?
+      Vulnera pugnabunt, Christe, vel ipsa tibi.
+
+_On the scars of the Lord still remaining._
+
+    Arms see--bows, quiver, arrows flying far,
+    And every style in which Love went to war.
+    These arms Love used--nay, Himself was: His own
+    Dart and darts' quiver was Himself alone.
+    Now they but shine, and, dusty battle ended,
+    In treasur'd glory are on high suspended.
+    Time comes when unto Wrath these arms, both quiver
+    And quiver's offspring, darts, Love will deliver.
+    Ah, with what thoughts, what countenance wilt thou stand
+    When its own guilt comes home to each right hand?
+    Wretch, thou wilt see the wounds which thou hast made,
+    And with what fatal skill thy fury play'd:
+    Whether with bloody wreath thy fingers plied
+    His temples, or thy spear drank His dear side;
+    Or 'neath thy blow nails turned a cruel red,
+    Or the scourge blush'd as at thy call it sped.
+    Wretch, there the wounds thou gavest thou shalt see:
+    To see the wound thou gav'st a wound shall be.
+    Stroke self-avenging follows nails and spear:
+    Its nail and spear of recompense are here.
+    Such awful righteous wrath who would excite?
+    Thy very wounds, O Christ, for Thee will fight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIII.
+
+_Pacem meam do vobis._ Joan. xiv. 27.
+
+    Bella vocant: arma, ô socii, nostra arma paremus
+      Atque enses: nostros scilicet, ah, jugulos.
+    Cur ego bella paro, cum Christus det mihi pacem?
+      Quod Christus pacem dat mihi, bella paro.
+    Ille dedit, nam quis potuit dare certior autor?
+      Ille dedit pacem: sed dedit ille suam.
+
+_My peace I give unto you._
+
+    War calls: O friends, our arms let us prepare,
+    And swords; forsooth, our throats let us lay bare.
+    Why war prepare, if Christ His peace afford?
+    Because Christ gives me peace, I take the sword.
+    He gave--what surer giver can be shown?
+    He gave the peace, but then He gave His own.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIV.
+
+_In D. Paulum illuminatum simul et excaecatum._ Act. ix. 8, 9.
+
+    Quae, Christe, ambigua haec bifidi tibi gloria teli est,
+      Quod simul huic oculos abstulit atque dedit?
+    Sancta dies animi, hac oculorum in nocte, latebat;
+      Te ut possit Paulus cernere, caecus erat.
+
+_Paul's conversion and blindness._
+
+    Why, Lord, this twofold glory of Thy ray,
+    Giving him sight whose sight it takes away?
+    Paul in that night God's inner light shall find:
+    That he may see The Christ his eyes are blind.       CL.
+
+
+CLXXV.
+
+_Ego sum Via. Ad Judaeos spretores Christi._ Joan. xiv. 6.
+
+    O sed nec calcanda tamen: pes improbe, pergis?
+      Improbe pes, ergo hoc cœli erat ire viam?
+    Ah pereat, Judaec ferox, pes improbus ille,
+      Qui cœli tritam sic facit esse viam.
+
+_I am the Way. To the Jewish despisers of Christ._
+
+    Not to be trampled on, though: vile foot, stay;
+    Vile foot, is this to tread the heavenly Way?
+    Let that fierce Jewish foot to death be given,
+    Which thus wears out the blessèd Way to heaven.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVI.
+
+_In nocturnum et hyemale iter infantis Domini._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Ergo viatores teneros, cum Prole parentem,
+      Nox habet hos, queis est digna nec ulla dies.
+    Nam quid ad haec Pueri vel labra genasve parentis?
+      Heu, quid ad haec facient oscula, nox et hyems!
+    Lilia ad haec facerent, faceret rosa; quicquid et halat
+      Aeterna Zephyrus qui tepet in viola.
+    Hi meruere, quibus vel nox sit nulla; vel ulla
+      Si sit, eat nostra purius illa die.
+    Ecce sed hos quoque nox et hyems clausere tenellos:
+      Et quis scit, quid nox, quid meditetur hyems?
+    Ah, ne quid meditetur hyems saevire per Austros,
+      Quaeque solet nigros nox mala ferre metus!
+    Ah, ne noctis eat currus non mollibus Euris,
+      Aspera ne tetricos nuntiet aura Notos!
+    Heu, quot habent tenebrae, quot vera pericula secum,
+      Quot noctem dominam quantaque monstra colunt!
+    Quot vaga quae falsis veniunt ludibria formis!
+      Trux oculus, Stygio concolor ala Deo!
+    Seu veris ea, sive vagis stant monstra figuris;
+      Virginei satis est hinc, satis inde metus.
+    Ergo veni; totoque veni resonantior arcu,
+      Cynthia, praegnantem clange procul pharetram.
+    Monstra vel ista vel illa, tuis sint meta sagittis:
+      Nec fratris jaculum certior aura vehat.
+    Ergo veni, totoque veni, flagrantior ore,
+      Dignaque Apollineas sustinuisse vices.
+    Scis bene quid deceat Phoebi lucere sororem:
+      Ex his, si nescis, Cynthia, disce genis.
+    O tua, in his, quanto lampas formosior iret!
+      Nox suam, ab his, quanto malit habere diem!
+    Quantum ageret tacitos haec luna modestior ignes,
+      Atque verecundis sobria staret equis!
+    Luna, tuae non est rosa tam pudibunda diei,
+      Nec tam Virgineo fax tua flore tremit.
+    Ergo veni; sed et astra, tuas age, Cynthia, turmas:
+      Illa oculos pueri, quos imitentur, habent.
+    Hinc oculo, hinc astro: at parili face nictat utrumque;
+      Aetheris os, atque os aethereum Pueri.
+    Aspice, quam bene res utriusque deceret utrumque!
+      Quam bene in alternas mutua regna manus!
+    Ille oculus cœli hoc si staret in aethere frontis;
+      Sive astrum hoc Pueri fronte sub aetherea.
+    Si Pueri hoc astrum aetherea sub fronte micaret,
+      Credat et hunc oculum non minus esse suum.
+    Ille oculus cœli, hoc si staret in aethere frontis,
+      Non minus in cœlis se putet esse suis.
+    Tam pulchras variare vices cum fronte Puelli,
+      Cumque Puelli oculis aether et astra queant.
+    Astra quidem vellent; vellent aeterna pacisci
+      Foedera mutatae sedis inire vicem.
+    Aether et ipse, licet numero tam dispare, vellet
+      Mutatis oculis tam bona pacta dari.
+    Quippe iret coelum quanto melioribus astris,
+      Astra sua hos oculos si modo habere queat!
+    Quippe astra in coelo quantum meliore micarent,
+      Si frontem hanc possint coelum habuisse suum.
+    Aether et astra velint: frustra velit aether et astra:
+      Ecce negat Pueri frons, oculique negant.
+    Ah, neget illa, negent illi: nam quem aethera mallent
+      Isti oculi? aut frons haec quae magis astra velit?
+    Quid si aliquod blanda face lene renideat astrum?
+      Lactea si cœli terque quaterque via est?
+    Blandior hic oculus, roseo hoc qui ridet in ore;
+      Lactea frons haec est terque quaterque magis.
+    Ergo negent, coelumque suum sua sidera servent:
+      Sidera de cœlis non bene danda suis.
+    Ergo negant: seque ecce sua sub nube recondunt,
+      Sub tenera occidui nube supercilii:
+    Nec claudi contenta sui munimine cœli,
+      Quaerunt in gremio matris ubi lateant.
+    Non nisi sic tactis ubi nix tepet illa pruinis,
+      Castaque non gelido frigore vernat hyems.
+    Scilicet iste dies tam pulchro vespere tingi
+      Dignus; et hos soles sic decet occidere.
+    Claudat purpureus qui claudit vesper Olympum;
+      Puniceo placeas tu tibi, Phœbe, toro;
+    Dum tibi lascivam Thetis auget adultera noctem,
+      Pone per Hesperias strata pudenda rosas.
+    Illas nempe rosas, quas conscia purpura pinxit;
+      Culpa pudorque suus queis dedit esse rosas.
+    Hos soles, niveae noctes, castumque cubile,
+      Quod purum sternet per mare virgo Thetis;
+    Hos, sancti flores; hos, tam sincera decebant
+      Lilia; quaeque sibi non rubuere rosae.
+    Hos, decuit sinus hic; ubi toto sidere proni
+      Ecce lavant sese lacteo in oceano.
+    Atque lavent: tandemque suo se mane resolvant,
+      Ipsa dies ex hoc ut bibat ore diem.
+
+_On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord._
+
+    These tender travellers, feel they Night's dark sway,
+    Mother and Child, too good for whitest day?
+    For how will mother's cheeks, or lips of Child,
+    How kisses fare, from Night and Winter wild?
+    With lilies these, with roses, should be blest,
+    Or sweetest breath of violet-perfum'd West.
+    Such travellers merited to have no night,
+    Or, if at all, one whiter than our light.
+    Winter and Night these tender ones enclose,
+    And what Night plots, or Winter, ah, who knows?
+    Ah, lest fell Winter with its north-winds rage,
+    Ill-omen'd Night its wonted fears engage.
+    Ah, lest rough east-winds should Night's chariot draw,
+    Or harsh south-winds should shake the heart with awe.
+    What real perils troop in Darkness' train,
+    Over what monsters Night extends her reign:
+    What vagrant phantoms, which in false shapes go,
+    Stern-ey'd, black-pinion'd, like the gods below!
+    But standing forth in false forms or in true,
+    For these, for those, a Virgin's dread is due.
+    Come then, come, Cynthia, with resounding bow,
+    And clang thy full-charg'd quiver at the foe.
+    These monsters, those, thy darts unerring share,
+    Nor truer aim thy brother's arrows bear:
+    Come, then, O come, with all thy face a-flame,
+    Worthy thyself to take Apollo's name.
+    Thou know'st how Phœbus' sister ought to shine;
+    If not, learn, Cynthia, from these cheeks divine.
+    Placed here thy torch more beauty would display,
+    And Night from hence prefer to draw its day;
+    Such moon more modest shed its silent beam,
+    And shamefac'd stay her softly-going team.
+    O Moon, thy day no rose so chaste resembles,
+    Thy torch with no such virgin beauty trembles.
+    Come then, but bring thy troops of stars likewise;
+    For they can try to shine like the Child's eyes.
+    An eye, a star, twinkling with equal grace,
+    The face of heaven and the Child's heavenly face.
+    How well the charm of each transferr'd would show,
+    From hand to hand the mutual sceptres go!
+    Whether heaven's eye should deck His skiey brow,
+    Or the Child's star adorn heaven's forehead now.
+    If the Child's star on heaven's forehead shone,
+    That eye would seem to Him not less His own.
+    Place on His skiey forehead heaven's eye,
+    Not less 'twould deem itself in its own sky.
+    Such interchanges might the stars and skies
+    Make charmingly with the Child's brow and eyes.
+    For change of place the stars indeed might like
+    An everlasting treaty now to strike;
+    And differing though in numbers, e'en the skies
+    Might wish to bargain for a change of eyes.
+    With how much better stars the sky would shine,
+    If as its stars it had these eyes divine!
+    The stars would shine in how much better heaven,
+    If as their sky this brow divine were given!
+    So sky and stars may choose--in vain they choose;
+    For the Child's brow and His fair eyes refuse.
+    Ah, wisely; for these eyes what better heaven
+    Could wish? what better stars to brow be given?
+    What though some gentle star more softly gleams?
+    What if heaven's way thrice, four times, milky seems?
+    Softer this eye which smiles in ruddy face;
+    This milk-white brow, thrice, four times is its grace.
+    To quit their heaven, let then these stars deny;
+    Stars ought not to be ta'en from their own sky.
+    They do deny; and soon in cloud are hid,
+    In tender shadow of the drooping lid.
+    Nor with their own defence content they rest,
+    But seek a hiding-place in mother's breast.
+    Thus the snow melts where His warm touch is plac'd,
+    And genial Spring blooms out of Winter chaste.
+    Such day such evening-dew deserves to drink;
+    Such suns in such a bed deserve to sink.
+    Sky-closing Eve, thy purple veil entwine,
+    Sun, thy luxurious couch incarnadine;
+    While wanton Thetis day too early closes,
+    Thy shameless bed place 'mid Hesperian roses;
+    Roses, forsooth, by conscious blushes painted,
+    By sin with its own tell-tale redness tainted.
+    Nights snowy-white, chaste couch to these suns be,
+    Which virgin Thetis spreads o'er lucent sea;
+    All-holy flowers, lilies inviolate,
+    Roses with innocent blush upon them wait.
+    Be theirs this bosom, where reclin'd all night
+    They bathe themselves in ocean milky-white.
+    And let them bathe, till their own morn say, rise;
+    And Day itself drink splendour from these eyes.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVII.
+
+_Non dico, me rogaturum Patrem pro vobis._ Joan. xvi. 26.
+
+    Ah tamen ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Ille suos omni facie te figit amores;
+      Inque tuos toto effunditur ore sinus.
+    Quippe, tuos spectans oculos, se spectat in illis;
+      Inque tuo, Jesu, se fovet ipse sinu.
+    Ex te metitur sese, et sua numina discit:
+      Inde repercussus redditur ipse sibi.
+    Ille tibi se, te ille sibi par nectit utrinque:
+      Tam tuus est, ut nec sit magis ille suus.
+    Ergo roga: ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Illum ut ego rogitem? Hoc, eheu, non ore rogandum;
+      Ore satis puras non faciente preces.
+    Illum ego si rogitem, quis scit quibus ille procellis
+      Surgat, et in miserum hoc quae tonet ira caput?
+    Isto etiam forsan veniet mihi fulmen ab ore:
+      Saepe isto certe fulmen ab ore venit.
+    Ille una irati forsan me cuspide verbi,
+      Uno me nutu figet, et interii:
+    Non ego, non rogitem: mihi scilicet ille roganti
+      Durior esse potest, et solet esse, Pater.
+    Immo rogabo: nec ore meo tamen: immo rogabo
+      Ore meo, Jesu, scilicet ore tuo.
+
+_I do not say that I will pray the Father for you._
+
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    With favouring eyes He makes Thee all His love;
+    Toward Thine heart, Lord, His whole affections move.
+    Beholding Thy fair eyes Himself He sees;
+    In Thy pure breast Himself He cherishes.
+    By Thee He metes Himself, His godhead learns,
+    And, sweet reversion! to Himself returns.
+    He Thee, Thou He, in one Ye intertwine;
+    He is His own no more, He is so Thine.
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    Shall these lips, Lord, ask Him? But how should they?
+    With rightful words and pure they fail to pray.
+    If I should ask Him, then, what tempests dread,
+    What anger thundering o'er this wretched head!
+    His look perchance would gleam as lightning down--
+    Yea, oft, I know, as lightning falls His frown.
+    Perchance the javelin of one angry word,
+    One nod, would slay, and I should die unheard.
+    I? I'll not ask: Lord, He is wont to be,
+    He easy proves unkind, if ask'd of me.
+    Yet, stay: I'll ask:--not with these lips of mine;
+    Yea, with my lips,--my lips, Lord, namely Thine.      A.
+
+
+CLXXVIII.
+
+_In die ascensionis dominicae._ Act. i. 9, 10.
+
+    Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?
+      Heu, cœli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!
+    Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera cœli,
+      Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;
+    Phœbenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,
+      Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.
+    Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?
+      Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.
+    Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,
+      Aether[85] descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.
+
+    Νῦν ἔτι ἡμέτερόν σε, Χριστὲ, ἔχομεν τὸν ἔρωτα;
+      Οὐρανοῦ οὖν ὅσσον τὸν φθόνον ὡς ἔχομεν·
+    Ἀλλὰ ἔχωμεν. ἔχει ἑὰ μὲν τὰ δ' ἀγάλματα αἰθήρ,
+      Ἄστρα τε καὶ Φοῖβον καὶ καλὰ τῶν νεφελῶν.
+    Ὅσσον ἔην, ἡμῖν ὄφρ' εἴη ἕν τόδε ἄστρον;
+      Ἄστρον ἓν ἡμῖν ᾖ· εἰσί τοι ἄστρ' ἑκατόν.
+    Πάντα μάτην. ὅτι, Χριστὲ, σὺ οὐκ ἀνέβαινες ἐς αὐτόν,
+      Αὐτὸς μὲν κατέβη οὐρανὸς εἰς σὲ τεός.
+
+_On the day of the Lord's ascension._
+
+    Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
+    Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
+    But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
+    And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
+    Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
+    By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
+    'Twere little they should leave one light below:
+    Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
+    'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
+    To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky.         R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIX.
+
+_Caecus implorat Christum._ Marc. x. 46-52.
+
+    Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+    Νύκτ' ἐλέησον ἐμὴν, ἐλέησον. ναί τοι ἐκεῖνο,
+      Χριστὲ, ἐμοῦ ἦμαρ, νὺξ ὅδ' ἐμεῖο ἔχει.
+    Ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἐκεῖνο, Θεὸς, δέεται τόδε γνώμης·
+      Μή μοι τοῦτ' αἴρῃς, δός μοι ἐκεῖνο φάος.[86]
+
+_The blind man implores Christ._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb,
+    Before my Lord to me His speech addresses?
+    Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.
+    My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:
+    This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXX.
+
+_Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex illis, &c._
+Luc. xv. 4.
+
+    O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!
+      Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.
+    Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,
+      Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.
+    Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;
+      Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.
+    Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;
+      Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.
+    Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:
+      De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.
+
+    Εἶς μὲν ἐγὼ, ᾗ μοῦ πλάνη περιῆγεν, ἄλημι·
+      Εἶς δέ τοι σῶς ἔσομαι γηθοσύναι πλέονες.
+    Ἀμνὸς ὁ μὴ ποιῶν φόβον οὐ ποιεῖ δέ τε χάρμα.
+      Μεὶζων τῶν μὲν, ἐμοῦ χρεία δὲ γλυκυτέρη.
+
+_What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, &c._
+
+    O might I fire the angel-bands with joy,
+    Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ!
+    A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play;
+    All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say.
+    The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me;
+    Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee!
+    They give no joy who never caus'd a fear;
+    Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear.
+    Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment;
+    Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXI.
+
+_Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti._ Act. xii. 2.
+
+    Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum,
+      Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput.
+    Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam,
+      Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput.
+    Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde,
+      Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit.
+
+    Ἐν μὲν, Ἰάκωβε, κεφαλήν τοι ξίφος ἀπῇρεν,
+      Ἓν τόδε καὶ στέφανον ξίφος ἔδωκε τεόν.
+    Μοῦνον ἀμείβεσθαι κεφαλὴν, Ἰάκωβε, δύναιτο,
+      Κεῖνος ὃδ' ὡς καλὸς μαρτυρίου στέφανος.
+
+_To Herod beheading St. James._
+
+    Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke,
+    Or how on his blest head thine anger broke.
+    Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord
+    Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword.
+    Only this sacred sanguinary crown
+    That sunder'd head was able to weigh down.        R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXII.
+
+_Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur._ Matt. xx. 34.
+
+    Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit:
+      Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum.
+    Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra
+      Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.[87]
+
+    Χεὶρ ἐπιβαλλομένη Χριστοῦ ἐπέβαλλεν ὀπωπῶν
+      Ἄστρα· ὀπηδεύει κεῖνά γε χειρὶ Θεοῦ.
+    Χεὶρ αὓτη τούτοις πέλεν οὐρανός. ἄστρα γὰρ οἶμαι
+      Ἐν χερὶ ταῦτ' οἴσει Χριστὸς ἔπειτα ἑῇ.
+
+_The blind men having received their sight follow Christ._
+
+    See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create,
+    Which on that hand with due observance wait.
+    That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they
+    Which He will hold in His right hand one day.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIII.
+
+_Zachaeus in sycomoro._ Luc. xix. 4.
+
+    Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?
+      Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?
+    Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,
+      Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.
+
+    Τίπτ' ἐπικομπάζεις κενεὸν ξείνῳ δέ τε καρπῷ,
+      Καὶ φύλλοις σεμνὴ μὴ, συκόμωρε, τεοῖς;
+    Καὶ γὰρ ὅδ' ἐκκρήμνης σοῦ νῦν μετέωρος ἀπ' ἔρνους,
+      Ἀμπέλου ὁ κλαδὼν ἔσσεται οὐρανίου.
+
+_Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree._
+
+    Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?
+    Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?
+    He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,
+    A cluster soon will be of the True Vine.          R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIV.
+
+_On our crucified Lord naked and bloody._
+
+    Th' have left Thee naked, Lord: O that they had!
+    This garment too I would they had deny'd.
+    Thee with Thyselfe they have too richly clad,
+    Opening the purple wardrobe of Thy side.
+      O never could bee found garments too good
+      For Thee to weare, but these of Thine own blood.
+
+
+CLXXXV.
+
+_Sampson to his Dalilah._
+
+    Could not once blinding me, cruell, suffice?
+    When first I look't on thee, I lost mine eyes.
+
+
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken Heart.'_
+
+    Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak'st one seeme two by art:
+    What is Love's Sacrifice but The Broken Heart?
+
+
+II.
+
+_Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, sent to a gentlewoman._
+
+    Lo here the faire Chariclea, in whom strove
+    So false a fortune and so true a love!
+    Now after all her toyles by sea and land,
+    O may she but arrive at your white hand!
+    Her hopes are crown'd; onely she feares that than
+    Shee shall appeare true Ethiopian.
+
+
+III.
+
+_On marriage._
+
+    I would be married, but I'de have no wife:
+    I would be married to a single life.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_On Nanus mounted upon an ant._
+
+    High-mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
+    Was throwne, alas, and got a deadly fall;
+    Vnder th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies
+    All torne: with much adoe yet ere he dyes
+    Hee straines these words: Base Envy, doe laugh on:
+    Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes._
+
+    What, Mars his sword? faire Cytherea, say,
+    Why art thou arm'd so desperately to-day?
+    Mars thou hast beaten naked; and, O then,
+    What needst thou put on armes against poore men?
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Vpon the same._
+
+    Pallas saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cry'd:
+    Come if thou dar'st; thus, thus let us be try'd.
+    Why, foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee,
+    That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Out of Martiall._
+
+    Foure teeth thou hadst, that, ranck'd in goodly state,
+                        Kept thy mouth's gate.
+    The first blast of thy cough left two alone;
+                        The second, none.
+    This last cough, Delia, cought-out all thy feare;
+    Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.
+
+
+NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+These Secular, or, as the word was, 'Humane' Epigrams, all originally
+appeared in the volume of 1646, as before, and were continued in the
+after-editions. It is pleasant to have this recognition of John Ford
+(I.) by Crashaw. The two Tragedies celebrated, appeared in the same
+year, 1633. The 'Faire Ethiopian' of II. was doubtless William Lisle's
+poem so named [Lond. 1632],--not given by Hazlitt, _s.n._ The others are
+too well known to need annotation. These are all preserved, with a
+collection of others, in the Tanner MS., as before. G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+II.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+It is my great privilege to be the first to print the following
+extensive additions to the _Epigrammata Sacra_ of Crashaw. They are
+wholly derived from Archbishop Sancroft's MS. 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. RICHARD WILTON, 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. G.
+
+
+I.
+
+Act. xxviii. 3.
+
+    Paule, nihil metuas, non fert haec vipera virus:
+      Virtutem vestrae vult didicisse manus.
+    Oscula, non morsus; supplex, non applicat hostis.
+      Nec metuenda venit, sed miseranda magis.
+
+_St. Paul and the viper._
+
+    Paul, fear thou nought; no poison bears this asp:
+      It seeks to learn the virtue of thy hand.
+    Not as a foe, but suppliant, it would clasp;
+      Not fear, but pity, it would fain command.          G.
+
+
+II.
+
+Joan. vi. 14, 26.
+
+    Jam credunt, Deus es: Deus est, qui teste palato,
+      Quique ipso demum est judice dente Deus.
+    Scilicet haec sapiunt miracula: de quibus alvus
+      Proficere, et possit pingue latus fluere.
+    Haec sua fecisti populo miracula credunt.
+      Gens pia, et in ventrem relligiosa suum!
+
+_The miracle of the loaves._
+
+    Now truly they believe that Thou art God!--
+      God witnessèd by palate and by tooth!--
+    They know the smack of miracles that load
+      And swell their paunches; yea, believe, forsooth.
+    To a most pious race, Lord, Thou appealest,
+    And stomachs most believing Thou revealest.           G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_In lacrymas Christi patientis._
+
+    Saeve dolor! potes hoc? oculos quoque perpluis istos?
+      O quam non meritas haec arat unda genas!
+    O lacrymas ego flere tuas, ego dignior istud,
+      Quod tibi cunque cadit roris, habere meum.
+    Siccine? me tibi flere tuas! ah, mi bone Jesu,
+      Si possem lacrymas vel mihi flere meas!
+    Flere meas? immo immo tuas, hoc si modo possem:
+      Non possem lacrymas, non ego flere meas.
+    Flere tuas est flere meas, tua lacryma, Christe,
+      Est mea vel lacryma est si tua, causa mea est.
+
+_Of the tears of the suffering Christ._
+
+    O cruel Pain! I ask thee how
+    Thou canst do what thou'rt doing now?
+    Dost thou also--or is't my fears?--
+    Drench His sweet eyes with scalding tears?
+    O how that show'r furrows amain
+    His undeserving cheek, as rain!
+    More meet it were that I should know
+    The tears that from His anguish flow:
+    More meet it were that I should feel
+    All dews that down His wan cheek steal:
+    O is it thus? Would that it were!
+    That I might weep Thy laden tear:
+    Yea, blessèd Jesus, would that I
+    For mine own self could weeping lie:
+    Mine own tears weep? nay, they are Thine,
+    For all Thy tears, alas, are mine.
+    Ah, not a tear that Thou didst shed,
+    When sorrow bow'd Thy sacred head,
+    But came of human woe or guilt,
+    For which at last Thy Blood was spilt;
+    And even if the tears were Thine,
+    Being for my sake, they're rather mine.               G.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_In sepulcrum Domini._ Joan. xix. 38-42.
+
+    Jam cedant, veteris cedant miracula saxi,
+      Unde novus subito fluxerat amne latex.
+    Tu felix rupes, ubi se lux tertia tollet,
+      Flammarum sacro fonte superba flues.
+
+_The sepulchre of the Lord._
+
+    Yield place, ye wonders of the ancient stone
+      Whence sudden-gushing streams were seen to flow:
+    When the third day, blest rock, on thee has shone,
+      Proudly with fount of sacred fire thou'lt glow.     G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Ubi amorem praecipit._ Joan. xiii. 14.
+
+    Sic magis in numeros morituraque carmina vivit
+      Dulcior extrema voce caducus olor;
+    Ut tu inter strepitus odii, et tua funera, Jesu,
+      Totus amor liquido totus amore sonas.
+
+_The parting words of Love._
+
+    E'en as the dying swan, sweeter for failing breath,
+      Dies not, but rather lives, in her last wistful song,
+    Dost Thou, Lord, mid hate's din and close-approaching death,
+      As Love, with melting voice, Thy dying love prolong. G.
+
+
+VI.
+
+Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Euge, Deus--pleno populus fremit undique plausu--
+      Certe non hominem vox sonat, euge, Deus!
+    Sed tamen iste Deus qui sit, vos dicite, vermes,
+      Intima turba illi; vos fovet ille sinu.
+
+_Herod devoured of worms._
+
+    Behold a god! full-voic'd the people cry;
+      Not man, but god, with shouts they him attest.
+    What kind of god he is, ye worms, reply--
+      A crowd that know the secrets of his breast.        G.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Bonum est nobis esse hic._
+
+    Cur cupis hic adeo, dormitor Petre, manere?
+      Somnia non alibi tam bona, Petre, vides.
+
+_It is good to be here._
+
+    Why seek'st thou, drowsy Peter, here to stay?
+    Elsewhere such pleasant dreams thou see'st not, eh?[88] G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Videte lilia agrorum ... nec Salomon, &c._ Matt. vi. 29.
+
+    Candide rex campi, cui floris eburnea pompa est,
+      Deque nivis fragili vellere longa toga;
+    Purpureus Salomon impar tibi dicitur esto.
+      Nempe, quod est melius, par fuit ille rosis.
+
+_Look on the lilies of the field ... not Solomon, &c._
+
+    O fairest monarch of the enamell'd field,
+      Whose is the blossom'd pomp of ivory splendour,
+    And whose the fleeces, snowy-white, which yield
+      Long-flowing robes immaculate and tender.
+    Ah, not like lilies--'tis divinely spoken--
+      Was Solomon, with sin encrimsonèd;
+    But not unlike--and 'tis a better token--
+      Roses tear-wash'd, which hang the blushing head.  R. WI.
+
+
+IX.
+
+Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Voce manuque simul linguae tu, Christe, ciendae:
+      Sistendae nudis vocibus usus eras.
+    Sane at lingua equus est pronis effusus habenis:
+      Vox ciet, at sistit non nisi tota manus.
+
+
+_The deaf healed._
+
+    To wake the tongue--voice, hand too, Christ would use;
+      To check it, but a bare word of command.
+    Really, the tongue is as a horse rein'd-loose--
+      Starts at a word, stay'd only with strong hand.  R. WI.
+
+
+X.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    Non est hoc matris, sed, crede, modestia nati,
+      Quod virgo in gremium dejicit ora suum.
+    Illic jam Deus est, oculus jam Virginis ergo,
+      Ut coelum videat, dejiciendus erit.
+
+_The modesty of the blessed Virgin._
+
+    Not humbleness of mother, but of Child,
+    Shines in the downward gaze of Virgin mild.
+    The Virgin gazes where her God doth lie:
+    She must look down that Heaven may meet her eye.      G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_Mitto vos sicut agnos in medio luporum._
+
+    Hos quoque, an hos igitur saevi lacerabitis agnos?
+      Hic saltem, hic vobis non licet esse lupis.
+    At sceleris nulla est clementia, at ergo scietis,
+      Agnus qui nunc est, est aliquando Leo.
+
+_I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves._
+
+    These lambs also, e'en these, will ye, then, fiercely tear?
+    Here to be wolves, at least here, ye will never dare.
+    Alas, the wicked still are cruel; but ye'll learn
+    He Who is now a Lamb will one day Lion turn.          G.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Christus a daemone vectus._ Matt. iv.
+
+    Ergo ille, angelicis ô sarcina dignior alis,
+      Praepete sic Stygio, sic volet ille vehi.
+    Pessime! nec laetare tamen tu scilicet inde,
+      Non minus es daemon, non minus ille Deus.
+
+_Christ carried by the devil._
+
+    Will He--O burden worthier angels' wings!--
+      Deign to be carried by swift fiend of hell?
+    Vilest! to thee this no advancement brings;
+      He no less God, thou no less demon fell.            G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, sterilis cur tibi mater erat?
+    Quam fuit ista tuae mira infoecundia matris!
+      In vocem sterilis rarior esse solet.
+
+_St. John the Baptist a voice._
+
+    'I am a voice, a voice,' says holy John.
+      If so, how should thy mother barren be?
+    This is unfruitfulness to muse upon;
+      Tongue-barren women we so seldom see!               G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Vox Joannes, Christus Verbum._
+
+    Monstrat Joannes Christum, haud res mira videtur:
+      Vox unus, verbum scilicet alter erat.
+    Christus Joanne est prior, haec res mira videtur:
+      Voce sua verbum non solet esse prius.
+
+_John the Voice, Christ the Word._
+
+    John points out Christ; no wonder this we deem:
+      One is a Voice, the other is the Word.
+    Christ is before John; wondrous this may seem;
+      For when was word before a voice e'er heard?        G.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_In natales Domini pastoribus nuntiatos._ Luc. ii. 8-19.
+
+    Ad te sydereis, ad te, bone Tityre, pennis
+      Purpureus juvenis gaudia tanta vehit.
+    O bene te vigilem, cui gaudia tanta feruntur,
+      Ut neque dum vigilas, te vigilare putes.
+    Quem sic monstrari voluit pastoribus aether,
+      Pastor an agnus erat? Pastor et agnus erat.
+    Ipse Deus cum Pastor erit, quis non erit agnus?
+      Quis non pastor erit, cum Deus agnus erit?
+
+_On the birth of the Lord announced to the shepherds._
+
+    To thee, good Tityrus, on starry wings        _shepherd_
+    The royal angel such 'glad tidings' brings.
+    Surely the happy watcher never thought
+    That he was watching when such joys were brought.
+    And He, Whom thus the heavenly host reveal'd
+    To shepherds 'mid their flocks in open field,
+    Tell me, was He a Shepherd or a Lamb?
+    Shepherd and Lamb at once; He took each name.
+    Since, then, our God a Shepherd's name doth wear,
+    The name of lamb who will not wish to bear?
+    And who will not be shepherd, since God deigns
+    To be a Lamb, for suffering of sin's pains?           G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Atheniensem merum._ Act. xvii. 28.
+
+    Ipsos naturae thalamos sapis, imaque rerum
+      Concilia, et primae quicquid agunt tenebrae,
+    Quid dubitet refluum mare, quid vaga sydera volvant;
+      Christus et est studiis res aliena tuis.
+    Sic scire, est tantum nescire loquacius illa:
+      Qui nempe illa sapit sola, nec illa sapit.
+
+_Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians._
+
+    Thou knowest Nature's secret things
+    And all her deepest counsellings--
+    All wonders of the primal Night
+    Conceal'd from prying human sight;
+    Knowest how the sea-tide pauses,
+    The wandering stars too in their causes.
+    But while to thee, in all else wise,
+    Christ from thy thoughts an alien lies,
+    In earthly studies to advance
+    Is but loquacious ignorance;
+    And he whose wisdom is but such,
+    Of those things even knows not much.
+    O, study thou beneath the Cross,
+    Or all thy labour is but loss!                        G.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Ego vitis vera._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Credo quidem, sed et hoc hostis te credidit ipse
+      Caiaphas, et Judas credidit ipse, reor.
+    Unde illis, Jesu, vitis nisi vera fuisses,
+      Tanta tui potuit sanguinis esse sitis?
+
+_I am the True Vine._
+
+    'Believe!' e'en Caiaphas, thy foe, believèd
+      Thee the True Vine; and Judas too, I think.
+    Had they not, Lord, Thee as True Vine receivèd,
+      Could they have thirsted so Thy Blood to drink?     G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Abscessum Christi queruntur Discipuli._
+
+    Ille abiit, jamque ô quae nos mala cunque manetis,
+      Sistite jam in nostras tela parata neces.
+    Sistite; nam quibus haec vos olim tela paratis,
+      Abscessu Domini jam periere sui.
+
+_The departure of Christ lamented by the Disciples._
+
+    The Lord is gone; and now, all evils dire,
+      Hold back the darts which for our death you flourish:
+    Yea, hold them back, nor waste on us your ire,
+      For with our Lord's departure, lo, we perish.       G.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii. 1-4.
+
+    Quae vehit auratos nubes dulcissima nimbos?
+      Quis mitem pluviam lucidus imber agit?
+    Agnosco, nostros haec nubes abstulit ignes:
+      Haec nubes in nos jam redit igne pari.
+    O nubem gratam et memorem, quae noluit ultra
+      Tam saeve de se nos potuisse queri!
+    O bene; namque alio non posset rore rependi,
+      Coelo exhalatum quod modo terra dedit.
+
+_On the descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    What sweetest cloud comes wafting golden shower?
+    What gentle raindrops bring their shining dower?
+    The cloud which stole our flame, our heart's desire,
+    This very cloud returns with equal fire.
+    O kindly-mindful cloud, which could not brook
+    That we should mourn thee with so sad a look!
+    'Tis well; no other dew had countervail'd
+    That which from earth to heaven was late exhal'd.  R. WI.
+
+
+XX.
+
+Act. x. 39.
+
+    Quis malus appendit de mortis stipite vitam?
+      O malus agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit?
+    Immo, quis appendit vitae hac ex arbore mortem?
+      O bonus Agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit.
+    What wicked one affix'd Life to Death's tree?
+      O wretched gard'ner, call'st thou this engrafting?
+    Nay, tell me who affix'd Death to Life's tree?
+      O noble Gard'ner, this I call engrafting.           G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Ego sum Ostium._ Joan. x. 9.
+
+    Jamque pates, cordisque seram gravis hasta reclusit,
+      Et clavi claves undique te reserant.
+    Ah, vereor, sibi ne manus impia clauserit illas,
+      Quae cœli has ausa est sic aperire fores.
+
+_I am the Doore._
+
+    And now th' art set wide ope; the speare's sad art,
+    Lo, hath unlockt Thee at the very heart.
+    He to himselfe--I feare the worst--
+          And his owne hope,
+    Hath shut these doores of heaven, that durst
+          Thus set them ope.                             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Now Thou art open wide; the barrier dear
+    Of Thy great heart unclos'd by cruel spear;
+    And nails as keys unlock Thee everywhere.
+    Ah, he whose wicked hand thus forc'd the gate
+    Of heaven, perhaps at heaven's shut door will wait
+    One day, with outer darkness for his fate.            G.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_In spinas demtas a Christi capite cruentatas._
+
+    Accipe, an ignoscis? de te sata germina, miles.
+      Quam segeti est messis discolor illa suae!
+    O quae tam duro gleba est tam grata colono?
+      Inserit hic spinas: reddit et illa rosas.
+
+_Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head bloody._
+
+    Knowst thou this, souldier? 'tis a much-chang'd plant, which yet
+                          Thyselfe didst set;
+    'Tis chang'd indeed: did Autumn e're such beauties bring
+                          To shame his Spring?
+    O, who so hard an husbandman could ever find
+                          A soyle so kind?
+    Is not the soile a kind one, thinke ye, that returnes
+                          Roses for thornes?             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Take, soldier--know'st them not?--thy planted germs;
+      A harvest how unlike to its seed-corn!
+    What soil yields husbandman such kindly terms?
+      The rose he gathers, where he planted thorn.        G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+Joan. iii. 1-21.
+
+    Nox erat, et Christum, Doctor male docte, petebas
+      In Christo tenebras depositure tuas.
+    Ille autem multo dum te bonus irrigat ore,
+      Atque per arcanas ducit in alta vias,
+    Sol venit, et primo pandit se flore diei,
+      Ludit et in dubiis aureus horror aquis.
+    Sol oritur; sed adhuc, et adhuc tamen, ô bone, nescis.
+      Sol oritur, tecum nox tamen est, et adhuc
+           .       .       .       .       .
+      Non cœli, illa fuit, nox fuit illa tua.
+
+_Nicodemus._
+
+    'Twas night; and, Teacher all untaught,
+    Thy darkness thou to Christ hast brought
+    But while attent He speaks to thee
+    Benignant words, that thou mayst see,
+    Leading higher still and higher,
+    As thy yearnings do aspire,
+    Guiding thee, by sure grace given,
+    Through secret paths that reach to heaven;
+    Lo, the Sun on thee is risen,
+    Bursting from his cloudy prison,
+    Showing Him, the Life, the Way,
+    Flushing with first bloom of day,
+    Quivering with a golden light
+    Such as on wav'ring seas gleams bright.
+    The Sun is risen; yet darkness lies,
+    Good Nicodemus, on thine eyes;
+    But the night's thine own; for, lo,
+    All heav'n above doth lustrous glow.                  G.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_Domitiano de S. Johanne ad portam Lat._
+
+    Ergo ut inultus eas? sed nec tamen ibis inultus,
+      Sic violare ausus meque meosque deos.
+    Ure oleo, lictor. Oleo parat urere lictor:
+      Sed quem uri lictor credidit, unctus erat.
+    Te quoque sic olei virtus malefida fefellit?
+      Sic tua te Pallas, Domitiane, juvat?
+
+_To Domitian, concerning St. John commanded to be cast into a caldron of
+boiling oil._
+
+    Thou go unpunish'd? That shall never be,
+    Since thou hast dar'd to mock my gods and me.
+    Burn him in oil!--The lictor oil prepares:
+    Behold the Saint anointed unawares!
+    With such elusive virtue was the oil fraught!
+    Such aid thy olive-loving Pallas brought![89]     R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_In Baptistam vocem._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Tantum habuit Baptista loqui, tot flumina rerum,
+      Ut bene Vox fuerit, praetereaque nihil.
+    Ecce autem Verbum est unum tantum ille loquutus:
+      Uno sed Verbo cuncta loquutus erat.
+
+_The voice of the Baptist._
+
+    The Baptist had to speak such floods of things,
+      That well he might be Voice and nothing more:
+    But one word only, lo, Christ speaks, which brings
+      In one word all: My soul that Word adore!           G.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_In D. Petrum angelo solutum._ Act. xii. 6, 7.
+
+    Mors tibi et Herodes instant: cum nuncius ales
+      Gaudia fert, quae tu somnia ferre putas.
+    Quid tantum dedit ille, rogo, tibi? Vincula solvit,
+      Mors tibi et Herodes nonne dedisset idem?
+
+_On St. Peter loosed by the angel._
+
+    Death, Herod, press on thee; when angel's wing
+    Brings joys which thou supposest dreams to bring.
+    What gave he thee? Thy chains burst at his touch;
+    But Death and Herod would have given as much.     R. WI.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequuti sunt eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Ad nutum Domini abjecisti retia, Petre.
+      Tam bene non unquam jacta fuere prius.
+    Scilicet hoc recte jacere est tua retia, Petre,
+      Nimirum, Christus cum jubet, abjicere.
+
+_On St. Peter casting away his nets at our Saviour's call._
+
+    Thou hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell
+    To cast thy nets on all occasions well.
+    When Christ calls, and thy nets would have thee stay,
+    To cast them well's to cast them quite away.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    At the Lord's word thy nets were cast away:
+      Never before thy nets so well were cast.
+    Rightly to cast them is to cast away,
+      When once The Master's order has been pass'd.       G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Agnus Dei, qui tollit peccata mundi._ Joan. i. 36.
+
+    Ergo tot heu, torvas facies, tot in ora leonum,
+      In tot castra lupum qui meat, Agnus erit?
+    Hic tot in horribiles, quot sunt mea crimina, pardos?
+      Hic tot in audaces ungue vel ore feras?
+    Ah melius, pugiles quis enim commiserit istos?
+      Quos sua non faciunt arma vel ira pares.
+
+_The Lamb of God, Who bears away the sins of the world._
+
+    Shall He, then, be a Lamb, to go
+    Forth against such various foe?
+    Lions ravenous, great of jaw;
+    Wolves in vast herds, of mighty paw;
+    Pards vengeful, prowling out and in--
+    Frightful, num'rous as my sin--
+    Awful of face, and gaunt and grim,
+    Merciless to mangle limb by limb.
+    Ah, goest Thou, gentle One, 'gainst these?
+    And does terror upon Thee seize?
+    O how unequal is the strife,
+    And the prey so grand a life!
+    With such as these to fight art fated?
+    Nor in arms nor passion mated.                        G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_Pisces multiplicati._ Joan. xxi. 11.
+
+    Quae secreta meant taciti tibi retia verbi,
+    Queis non tam pisces quam capis Oceanum?
+
+_The miraculous draught of fishes._
+
+    What nets, hid in Thy silent word,
+                      Passest Thou on;
+    By which not fish Thou takest, Lord,
+                      But the Ocean?                      G.
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Domine, non solum pedes, sed et caput, &c._ Joan. xiii. 9.
+
+    En caput, atque suis quae plus satis ora laborant
+      Sordibus; huc fluvios, ais [et] adde tuos.
+    Nil opus est; namque haec, modo tertius occinat ales,
+      E fluviis fuerint, Petre, lavanda suis.
+
+_Lord, not my feet only, but also my head, &c._
+
+    'Behold my head, behold my face,
+    Which sin's filthiest stains deface:
+    Here pour Thy streams:' thou say'st to Me.
+    But, Peter, needs not this for thee;
+    For ere the cock a third time crow,
+    Rivers of its own tears must flow.                    G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Quanta amor ille tuus se cunque levaverit ala,
+      Quo tua cunque opere effloruit alta manus;
+    Mundus adest, contraque tonat, signisque reponit
+      Signa, adeo sua sunt numina vel sceleri,
+    Imo, ô nec nimii vis sit temeraria verbi,
+      Ille uno sensu vel tua cuncta premit.
+    Tot tantisque tuis mirac'lum hoc objicit unum,
+      Tot tantisque tuis non adhibere fidem.
+
+_Though they beheld so many miracles, they believed not._
+
+    However high in Thy great love Thou wingest,
+    And whatsoe'er within Thy hand Thou bringest,
+    Against Thee, with its thunders, stands the world,
+    Sign answering sign; Sin's banners all unfurl'd.
+    Nay--and let not the bold rash word appal--
+    One thought o' the world makes all Thy wonders fall:
+    Against Thy mightiest signs this one it wields--
+    To the vast whole of Thine, no faith it yields.       G.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_In nubem, quae Dominum abstulit._ Act. i. 9.
+
+    O nigra haec! quid enim mihi candida pectora monstrat,
+      Pectora cygneis candidiora genis?
+    Sit vero magis alba, suo magis aurea Phoebo,
+      Quantumcunque sibi candida; nigra mihi est.
+    Nigra mihi nubes! et qua neque nigrior Austros,
+      Vel tulit irati nuntia tela Dei.
+    Nigra! licet nimbos, noctem neque detulit ullam.
+      Si noctem non fert, at rapit, ecce, diem.
+
+_On the cloud which received the Lord._
+
+    O, this black cloud! a white breast does it show--
+    A breast more white than a swan's neck of snow?
+    More bright than golden sunshine let it be!
+    However fair itself, 'tis black to me.
+    From blacker cloud ne'er issu'd stormy blast,
+    Nor thunderbolts of angry heaven were cast.
+    Black! though no showers or shadows round it play;
+    If Night it bring not, yet it takes our Day.      R. WI.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Vidit urbem, et flevit super eam._ Luc. xix. 41, 42.
+
+    Ergo meas spernis lacrymas, urbs perfida? Sperne.
+      Sperne meas, quas ô sic facis esse tuas.
+    Tempus erit, lacrymas poterit cum lacryma demum
+      Nostra, nec immerito, spernere spreta tuas.
+
+_He saw the city, and wept over it._
+
+    Why scornest thou My tears, deceitful city?
+      Scorn, scorn My tears, and thus thou mak'st them thine.
+    The time will come when thou shalt seek My pity;
+      But I shall scorn thy tears, as thou scorn'st Mine. G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Nec sicut iste publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Tu quoque dum istius miseri peccata fateris,
+      Quae nec is irato mitius ungue notat;
+    Hic satis est gemino bonus in sua crimina telo.
+      Interea, quid erit, mi Pharisaee, tuis?
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    While thou too dost this wretch's sins confess,
+    Which he with hand and tongue deplores no less;
+    If he 'gainst his own crimes twice just will be,
+    What thinks he meanwhile of the Pharisee?         R. WI.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+_Accedentes Discipuli excitaverunt eum._ Matt. viii. 25.
+
+    Ah, quis erat furor hos, tam raros, solvere somnos?
+      O vos, queis Christi vel sopor invigilat!
+    Illum si somnus tenuit, vos somnia terrent,
+      Somnia tam vanos ingeminata metus.
+    Nil Christi nocuit somnus, mihi credite. Somnus
+      Qui nocuit, vestrae somnus erat fidei.
+
+_His Disciples came and awoke Him._
+
+    What madness this, slumbers so rare to break,
+    O ye, for whom even Christ's sleep doth wake!
+    If sleep held Him, ye're terrified by dreams--
+    Dreams which redouble fear that only seems.
+    Christ's sleep nought injur'd you, indeed 'tis true:
+    Your faith's sleep, and that only, injur'd you.   R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In mulierem Canaanaeam cum Domino decertantem._ Matt. xv. 22-28.
+
+    Cedit io jam, jamque cadet modo, fortiter urge,
+      Jam tua ni desit dextera, jamque cadet.
+    Nimirum hoc velit ipse, tuo favet ipse triumpho,
+      Ipse tuas tacitus res tuus hostis agit.
+    Quas patitur facit ille manus; ictu ille sub omni est;
+      Atque in te vires sentit, amatque suas.
+    Usque adeo haud tuus hic ferus est, neque ferreus hostis;
+      Usque adeo est miles non truculentus Amor.
+    Illo quam facilis victoria surgit ab hoste,
+      Qui, tantum ut vinci possit, in arma venit!
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Now He yieldeth, now He falleth,
+    As thy passion on Him calleth:
+    Press thee nigher still and nigher,
+    Urge thee higher still and higher;
+    Cleave and cling, nor let thy hand
+    Cease to plead, nor fearing stand.
+    He thy triumph sees with gladness,
+    Loves thee in thy clinging sadness;
+    Seems thy foe, yet ne'ertheless
+    Yearns in His heart of love to bless;
+    Willing bears thy every blow,
+    That from His own pow'r doth flow;
+    Loves to hear thy interceding,
+    His own voice within thee pleading.
+    Ah, this seeming en'my of thine,
+    Of fierceness giveth thee no sign;
+    For Love no grim soldier is,
+    Rough and severe, denying bliss.
+    Eas'ly is that victory won,
+    When the foe seeks to be undone.                      G.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Quare comedit Magister vester cum peccatoribus, &c._ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Siccine fraternos fastidis, improbe, morbos,
+      Cum tuus, et gravior, te quoque morbus habet?
+    Tantum ausus medicum morbus sibi quaerere, magnus;
+      Tantum ausus medicum spernere, major erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with sinners, &c._
+
+    Dost loathe thy brother, Pharisee,
+      Since his disease to Christ he brings?
+    And knowest not that all men see
+      Disease to thee more deadly clings?
+    That he dare seek Healer so great,
+      Shows great his disease to be;
+    That thou dar'st scorn on Him to wait,
+      Shows a greater cleaves to thee.                    G.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_In febricitantem et hydropicum sanatos._ Marc. i. 30, 31; Luc. xiv.
+2-4.
+
+    Nuper lecta gravem extinxit pia pagina febrem,
+      Hydropi siccos dat modo lecta sinus.
+    Haec vice fraterna quam se miracula tangunt,
+      Atque per alternum fida juvamen amant!
+    Quippe ignes istos his quam bene mersit in undis,
+      Ignibus his illas quam bene vicit aquas!
+
+_Miracles of healing the men sick of fever and of dropsy._
+
+    We read within the sacred page
+    Christ quench'd a fever's burning rage;
+    Read that a dropsy's swollen flood
+    Ebb'd at His word e'en as He stood.
+    Well join'd these mir'cles each to other,
+    As loving brother unto brother:
+    How well these waters drown'd that flame,
+    That fire these waters overcame!                      G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_In S. Lucam medicum._ Col. iv. 14.
+
+    Hanc, mihi quam miseram faciunt mea crimina vitam,
+      Hanc, medici, longam vestra medela facit.
+    Hoc'ne diu est vixisse? diu, mihi credite, non est
+      Hoc vixisse; diu sed timuisse mori.
+    Tu foliis, Medice alme, tuis medicamina praebes,
+      Et medicaminibus, quae mala summa, malis.
+    Hoc mortem bene vitare est, vitare ferendo.
+      Et vixisse diu est hoc, cito posse mori.
+
+_To St. Luke the physician._
+
+    This life my sins with wretchedness make rife,
+    Physicians by their art prolong this life.
+    Is this to live long time? I hear one sigh;
+    This is but fearing a long time to die.
+    Thy leaves, Physician blest, medicines contain
+    E'en for our medicines poor, our chiefest bane.
+    This is to escape death well--in death to lie;
+    And this is to live long--quickly to die.         R. WI.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Tollat crucem suam, &c._ Matt. xxvii. 32.
+
+    Ergo tuam pone; ut nobis sit sumere nostram:
+      Si nostram vis nos sumere, pone tuam.
+    Illa, illa, ingenti quae te trabe duplicat, illa
+      Vel nostra est, nostras vel tulit illa cruces.
+
+_He bears His own cross, &c._
+
+    Wherefore Thy cross, O Lord, lay down,
+      That we our own may make it:
+    If ours Thou willest us to own,
+      Thine, Lord, lay down; we'll take it:
+    That, that, I say, with its huge beam,
+      Which Thy prest body doubles;
+    That cross, e'en that, our own we deem,
+      For it has borne our troubles.
+    Our sin Thy burden sendeth;
+    Thy cross our crosses blendeth.                       G.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_In cygneam D. Jesu cantionem._ Joan. xvii.
+
+    Quae mella, ô quot, Christe, favos in carmina fundis!
+      Dulcis et, ah furias! ah, moribundus olor!
+    Parce tamen, minus hae si sunt mea gaudia voces:
+      Voce quidem dulci, sed moriente canis.
+
+_Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse with His disciples._
+
+    All Hybla's honey, all that sweetnesse can,
+    Flowes in Thy song, O faire, O dying Swan!
+    Yet is the joy I take in't small or none;
+    It is too sweet to be a long-liv'd one.              CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION. _On the swan-song of our Lord Jesus._
+
+    What songs, like honeycomb, your tongue employ,
+      Sweet Swan! but ah, Thou waitest for Death's call.
+    O cease; these sounds are but a doubtful joy;
+      'Tis a sweet voice, but has a dying fall.           G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Et conspuebant illum._ Marc. xiv. 65.
+
+    Quid non tam foede saevi maris audeat ira?
+      Conspuit ecce oculos, sydera nostra, tuos.
+    Forsan et hic aliquis sputo te excaecat, Jesu,
+      Qui debet sputo, quod videt ipse, tuo.
+
+_And they spat upon Him._
+
+    What will Wrath's sea, so foully fierce, not dare?
+    It spits upon our stars, Thy eyes so fair.
+    Perchance e'en here some one now spits on Thee
+    Who to Thy spittle owes it, he doth see.              G.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Rogavit eum, ut descenderet et sanaret filium suum._ Joan. iv. 47.
+
+    Ille ut eat tecum, in natique tuique salutem?
+      Qui petis; ah nescis, credo, quod ales Amor.
+    Ille ut eat tecum? quam se tua vota morantur!
+      Ille ut eat? tanto serius esset ibi.
+    Ne tardus veniat, Christus tecum ire recusat:
+      Christi nempe ipsum hoc ire moratur iter.
+    Christi nempe viis perit hoc quodcunque meatur:
+      Christi nempe viis vel properare mora est.
+    Hic est, cui tu vota facis tua, Christus: at idem,
+      Crede mihi, dabit haec qui rata, Christus ibi est.
+
+_He besought that He would go with him and heal his son._
+
+    That He would go with thee thou pleadest,
+    As for thy child thou intercedest.
+    Ah, little knowest thou how Love,
+    Such as descendeth from Above,
+    Swifter far is than feet can go,
+    Or any motion here below.
+    'Go with thee?' O how strange request!
+    Thou wouldst later then be blest.
+    That He may not slowlier come,
+    Christ will not travel with thee home,
+    For so to 'go' were to delay;
+    All paths unneeded by The Way.
+    Christ to Whom thou speakest pleading,
+    Christ with Whom thou'rt interceding,
+    He is here, and yet is yonder,
+    Swift as is the bolt of thunder:
+    He thy heart's desire will give;
+    Have thou faith, thy child shall live.                G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Pavor enim occupaverat eum super capturam piscium._ Luc. v. 9.
+
+    Dum nimium in captis per te, Petre, piscibus haeres,
+      Piscibus, ut video, captus es ipse tuis.
+    Rem scio, te praedam Christus sibi cepit: et illi
+      Una in te ex istis omnibus esca fuit.
+
+_For dread came upon him at the great draught of fishes._
+
+    Whilst, Peter, thou art so astonishèd
+                At thy draught of fishes,
+    Methinks thyself by them art captive led:
+                Christ to catch thee wishes,
+    So as one bait He setteth all these fishes.           G.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Viderunt et oderunt me._ Joan. xv. 24.
+
+    Vidit? et odit adhuc? Ah, te non vidit, Jesu.
+      Non vidit te, qui vidit, et odit adhuc.
+    Non vidit, te non vidit, dulcissime rerum;
+      In te qui vidit quid, quod amare neget.
+
+_But now they have seen and hated._
+
+    Seene, and yet hated Thee? They did not see;
+    They saw Thee not, that saw and hated Thee:
+    No, no, they saw Thee not, O Life, O Love,
+    Who saw aught in Thee that their hate could move.    CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See Thee, Lord, and hated still?
+    Ah, that were impossible:
+    See and hate? He saw Thee never
+    Who could see, nor love for ever.
+    O Thou, the all-lovely One,
+    He hath had no vision
+    Who can see and hate; for why,
+    Speck nor stain may none descry
+    In Thy lowly, lofty Face,
+    Full of sweetness, love, and grace.                  G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+Luc. xviii. 39.
+
+    Tu mala turba tace; mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Tuque in me linguam vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego, tunc taceam, mihi cum meus Ille loquetur.
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae tam laeta tuo ridet in ore diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Haec mea quam, fidei, nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Illa dies animi, Jesu, rogat hanc oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+_The blind suppliant._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb
+    Before my Lord to me His speech, etc.[90]
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Silence, silence, O vile crowd;
+    Yea, I will now cry aloud:
+    He comes near, Who is to me
+    Light and life and liberty.
+    Silence seek ye? yes, I'll be
+    Silent when He speaks to me,
+    He my Hope; ah, meek and still,
+    I shall 'bide His holy will.
+    O crowd, ye it may surprise,
+    But His voice holdeth my eyes:
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day that gives glad light;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day would lose its light,
+    If it gat not of Thee sight;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By day of faith upspringing bright;
+    That day within my soul that burns,
+    And for eyes' day unto Thee turns.
+    Lord, O Lord, give me this day,
+    Nor do Thou take that away.                           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_In Pharisaeos Christi verbis insidiantes._ Matt. xxii. 15.
+
+    O quam te miseri ludunt vaga taedia voti,
+      Ex ore hoc speras qui, Pharisaee, malum!
+    Sic quis ab Aurorae noctem speraverit ulnis,
+      Unde solet primis Sol tener ire rosis?
+    Sic Acheronta petas illinc unde amne corusco
+      Lactea sydereos Cynthia lavit equos.
+    Sic violas aconita roges: sic toxica nympham,
+      Garrula quae vitreo gurgite vexat humum.
+    Denique, ut exemplo res haec propriore patescat,
+      A te sic speret quis, Pharisaee, bonum?
+
+_The Pharisees insidiously watching the words of Christ._
+
+    O self-baffl'd Pharisee,
+    Vainly dost thou weary thee,
+    Hoping at His holy mouth
+    To catch other than the Truth:
+    Stainless, holy, pure is He,
+    Guileless as Simplicity.
+    Who would e'er expect black Night
+    In the bosom of the Light,
+    When the young sun in splendour burns,
+    And the dawn to roses turns?
+    Who, again, would seek to mark
+    Acheron plunging i' the dark,
+    Where white Cynthia's starry steeds
+    Lave them by the glitt'ring meads?
+    Who would aconite think to get
+    From the fragrant violet?
+    Or, watching by the babbling rill
+    Gushing in pureness from the hill,
+    Think thence poison to distil?
+    In fine, instance nearer thee--
+    Would any ever hope to see
+    Aught of good in Pharisee?                            G.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+Matt. ix. 20.
+
+    Falleris, et nudum male ponis, pictor, Amorem;
+      Non nudum facis hunc, cum sine veste facis.
+    Nonne hic est, dum sic digito patet ille fideli,
+      Tunc cum vestitus, tunc quoque nudus Amor?
+
+_Touched the hem of His garment._
+
+    Erringly, painter, thou portrayst Love bare:
+    Not bare you make him, though no clothes he wear.
+    Here, while laid open to believing hand,
+    Though clothed indeed, bare truly see Him stand.   R. WI.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+    Tolle oculos, tolle, ô tecum tua sydera nostros.
+      Ah quid enim, quid agant hic sine sole suo?
+    Id quod agant sine sole suo tua sydera, coelum:
+      Id terrae haec agerent hic sine sole suo.
+    Illa suo sine sole suis caeca imbribus essent:
+      Caeca suis lacrymis haec sine sole suo.
+
+_The departing Saviour._
+
+    O take, take with Thee, Lord, Thy stars, our eyes;
+      What would they do left here without their sun?
+    E'en what your sunless stars would do, ye skies,
+      Would here by sunless stars of earth be done.
+    Without their sun, those dark with showers we see;
+    These without sun, dark with their tears would be.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nam ego non solum vinciri, &c._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Quid mortem objicitis nostro, quid vinc'la timori?
+      Non timor est illinc, non timor inde meus.
+    Vincula, quae timeam, sunt vincula sola timoris:
+      Sola timenda mihi est mors, timuisse mori.
+
+_Paul unfearing._
+
+    Why talk of death or bonds to me,
+    As if these things a fear could be?
+    My fear springeth not from thence;
+    Nor in these is influence
+    Me to trouble or alarm,
+    Me to fret, or me to harm.
+    The only bonds that fearful are
+    Are the bonds themselves of fear;
+    The only death looks dreadfully,
+    Is lest I should fear to die.                         G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_Legatio Baptistae ad Christum._ Matt. xi.
+
+    Oro, quis es? legat ista suo Baptista Magistro.
+      Illi quae referant, talia Christus habet.
+    Cui caecus cernit, mutus se in verba resolvit,
+      It claudus, vivit mortuus: oro, quis est?
+
+_The message of the Baptist to Christ._
+
+    I ask, Who art Thou? is the Baptist's word.
+    Straight from his Master this reply is heard:
+    He by whose mighty power dumb speak, blind see,
+    Lame walk, dead live: Who is This? I ask thee.    R. WI.
+
+
+LII.
+
+    Accipe dona, puer, parvae libamina laudis;
+      Accipe, non meritis accipienda suis:
+    Accipe dona, puer dulcis; dumque accipis illa,
+      Digna quoque efficies, quae, puer, accipies.
+    Sive oculo, sive illa tua dignabere dextra;
+      Dextram oculumque dabis posse decere tuum.
+    Non modo es in dantes, sed et ipsa in dona benignus;
+      Nec tantum donans das, sed et accipiens.
+
+_Gifts to Jesus._
+
+    Take, Lord, these gifts, small offerings of our hand,
+    Though their own worth acceptance none command.
+    Take, and while taking them, Thou Saviour sweet.
+    E'en what Thou takest, Thou wilt render meet.
+    Whether Thou deem them worthy eye or touch,
+    Thou wilt be able, Lord, to make them such:
+    Kind e'en to gifts themselves, as to those giving,
+    Thou givest both when giving and receiving.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_In partum B. Virginis non difficilem._
+
+    Nec facta est tamen illa parens impune, quod almi
+      Tam parcens uteri venerit ille puer.
+    Una haec nascentis quodcunque pepercerit hora.
+      Toto illum vitae tempore parturiit.
+    Gaudia parturientis erat semel ille parenti;
+      Quotidie gemitus parturientis erat.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition._
+
+    Not lightly she escap'd a mother's doom,
+    Although her Child dealt gently with her womb:
+    Whate'er was spar'd at the one hour of birth,
+    She travail'd with Him all His time on earth:
+    The joy of childbirth quickly pass'd away;
+    She felt the pangs of childbirth every day.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+    Circulus hic similem quam par sibi pergit in orbem!
+      Principiumque suum quam bene finis amat!
+    Virgineo thalamo quam pulchre convenit ille,
+      Quo nemo jacuit, virgineus tumulus!
+    Undique ut haec aequo passu res iret; et ille
+      Josepho desponsatus, et ille fuit.
+
+_Upon our Saviour's tombe, wherein never man was laid._
+
+    How life and death in Thee
+                        Agree!
+    Thou hadst a virgin wombe
+                        And tombe:
+    A Joseph did betroth
+                        Them both.                       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See how a circle tends,
+    Beginning as it ends:
+    Behold a virgin womb;
+    Behold a virgin tomb;
+    Behold, and wonder at the truth,
+    A Joseph was espous'd to both!                        G.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_In Sanctum igneis linguis descendentem Spiritum._ Act. ii. 3.
+
+    Absint, qui ficto simulant pia pectora vultu,
+      Ignea quos luteo pectore lingua beat.
+    Hoc potius mea vota rogant, mea thura petessunt,
+      Ut mihi sit mea mens ignea, lingua luti.
+
+_On the Holy Spirit descending in fiery tongues._
+
+    Begone, who goodness feign with a false face,
+    Whom fiery tongues in earthy bosom grace.
+    This rather all my prayers and gifts desire,
+    A tongue of earth, if but my heart be fire.       R. WI.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+LIFE FOR DEATH.[91]
+
+_Whosoever will loose his life, &c._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    Soe I may gaine Thy death, my life I'le giue,--
+    My life's Thy death, and in Thy death I liue;
+    Or else, my life, I'le hide thee in His graue,
+    By three daies losse æternally to saue.              CR.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+ON THE DIVINE LOVE: AFTER H. HUGO.[92]
+
+_In amorem divinum_ (Hermannus Hugo).
+
+    Æternall Loue! what 'tis to loue Thee well,
+    None but himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.
+    But oh, what to be lou'd of Thee as well,
+    None, not himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.     CR.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+III.
+
+HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED.
+
+1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+
+
+FIDES, QUAE SOLA JUSTIFICAT,
+NON EST SINE SPE ET DILECTIONE.
+
+
+    Nam neque tam sola est. O quis male censor amarus
+      Jam socias negat in mutua sceptra manus?
+    Deme Fidem; nec aget, nec erit jam nomen Amoris:
+      Et vel erit, vel aget quid sine Amore Fides?
+    Ergo, Amor, i, morere; i, magnas, Puer alme, per umbras     5
+      Elysiis non tam numen inane locis.
+    O bene, quod pharetra hoc saltem tua praestat et arcus,
+      Ne tibi in extremos sit pyra nulla rogos!
+    O bene, quod tuus has saltem tibi providet ignis,
+      In tu quas possis funera ferre faces!                    10
+    Durus es, ah, quisquis tam dulcia vincula solvis;
+      Quae ligat, et quibus est ipse ligatus Amor.
+    O bene junctarum divortia saeva sororum,
+      Tam penitus mixtas quae tenuere manus!
+    Nam quae, tam varia, in tam mutua viscera vivunt?          15
+      Aut ubi, quae duo sunt, tam prope sunt eadem?
+    Alternis sese circum amplectuntur in ulnis:
+      Extraque et supra, subter et intus eunt.
+    Non tam Nympha tenax, Baccho jam mista marito,
+      Abdidit in liquidos mascula vina sinus.                  20
+    Compare jam dempto, saltem sua murmura servat
+      Turtur, et in viduos vivit amara modos.
+    At Fidei sit demptus Amor; non illa dolebit,
+      Non erit impatiens aegraque; jam moritur.
+    Palma, marem cui tristis hyems procul abstulit umbram,     25
+      Protinus in viridem procubuit faciem?
+    Undique circumfert caput, omnibus annuit Euris;
+      Siqua maritalem misceat aura comam:
+    Ah misera, expectat longum, lentumque expirat,
+      Et demum totis excutitur foliis.                         30
+    At sine Amore Fides nec tantum vivere perstat,
+      Quo dici possit vel moritura Fides.
+    Mortua jam nunc est: nisi demum mortua non est
+      Corporea haec, anima deficiente, domus.
+    Corpore ab hoc Fidei hanc animam si demis Amoris,          35
+      Jam tua sola quidem est, sed male sola Fides.
+    Hectore ab hoc, currus quem jam nunc sentit Achillis,
+      Hectora eum speres quem modo sensit herus?
+    Tristes exuvias, Oetaei frusta furoris,
+      Vanus, in Alcidae nomen et acta vocas?                   40
+    Vel satis in monstra haec, plus quam Nemeaea, malorum
+      Hoc Fidei torvum et triste cadaver erit?
+    Immo, Fidem usque suos velut ipse Amor ardet amores;
+      Sic in Amore fidem comprobat ipsa Fides.
+
+ERGO:
+
+    Illa Fides vacua quae sola superbiat aula,                 45
+      Quam Spes desperet, quam nee amabit Amor;
+    Sola Fides haec, tam misere, tam desolate
+      Sola, quod ad nos est, sola sit usque licet.
+    A sociis quae sola suis, a se quoque sola est.
+      Quae sibi tam nimia est, sit mihi nulla Fides.           50
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+FAITH, WHICH ALONE JUSTIFIES,
+
+EXISTS NOT WITHOUT HOPE AND LOVE.
+
+    That Faith which only justifies
+    A sinner as in guilt he lies,
+    Bow'd aneath the awful blood,
+    Clinging to the uplifted rood,
+    Is not alone so as nor Love
+    Nor heavenly Hope may in it move,
+    To thrill with touch of ecstasy
+    The bruisèd heart, the swimming eye.
+      What, censor! bitter to ill end,
+    Dost thou thy dogma still defend?
+    And wouldest thou to hands allied
+    Mutual sceptres see denied,
+    Snapping betwixt Faith and Love
+    The tie that binds them from Above?
+    I tell thee nay, stone-hearted one,
+    The Faith of Christ is not alone:
+    Take Faith away, and Love will sigh;
+    Take Hope away, and Faith will die;
+    Take Faith away, Love will do naught;
+    Take Love away, and Faith's distraught:
+    For I tell thee, vain sophister,
+    They're as sister unto sister.
+      But mark, this Love that brings Faith joy
+    Is not blind Cupid. Ah, bright Boy,
+    Begone; thou shalt not, wouldst thou, stay;
+    Go, get thee swift from light o' day;
+    Go, get thee now to the vast shades,
+    And there indulge thy escapades:
+    Thou in Elysian realms mayst reign
+    A fitting deity, not vain:
+    Go therefore, and with thee thy bow
+    And quiver. Well it is below
+    That these for thee shall form a pyre,
+    To which thy torch will furnish fire.
+      But, ah, thou hast a heart of stone,
+    Who wouldest make Faith live alone,
+    Loos'ning the sweet ties Love has found
+    To bind Faith to her, herself bound.
+    O, it is cruel thus to sever
+    Sisters whom God hath joinèd ever;
+    Whose claspèd hands so closely cling,
+    E'en as vine-tendrils ring on ring:
+    You may not tell there's more than one,
+    So absolute the union.
+    Where shall you find beneath the sky
+    Two differing so variously,
+    And yet each life in other bound,
+    Touch one, the other you shall wound:
+    Or where, 'mid all the pairs on earth,
+    Twins through marriage or through birth,
+    Shall you find two so truly one?
+    Arms twining in affection,
+    They clasp each other, chin to chin,
+    Above, below, without, within,
+    Embracing and embrac'd by turns;
+    Yet not with such wild-fire as burns
+    In Lust's hot touch, and clasp and grasp
+    Eager and stinging as tongue of asp.
+    Not so closely interwine
+    The graceful Elm and clinging Vine,
+    When to bosom of the tree
+    Bacchus' clusters prest you see,
+    And the Nymph the fruit receives,
+    And hides it amid dewy leaves;
+    Ev'n as the poets tell of old,
+    In legends of the Age of Gold.
+      Faith and Love know no such flame,
+    Their pure twining brings no shame;
+    Look for taint, you'll find it missing:
+    'Tis as flower flower kissing;
+    Or twin-roses dewy dripping,
+    And twin-bees their honey sipping.
+      The Turtle-dove, robb'd of her mate,
+    Pines and mourns disconsolate;
+    Yet still lives on in widow'd grief,
+    Knowing at times Hope's sweet relief.
+    But Faith when once of Love bereft
+    Loses her all, has nothing left;
+    Nor mourns nor frets nor pales--she's dead,
+    Struck to the heart astonièd.
+      The Palm that by the wintry blast
+    Sees her companion-tree downcast,
+    Whose mighty shadow o'er her threw
+    Protection when the fierce storm blew;
+    Her umbrage sheds, and quivering
+    Seeks that some fav'ring wind would bring
+    Her branches with his boughs to mingle,
+    Since she is left in sadness, single;
+    Wretched, she wears and wastes away,
+    Leaf following leaf in wan decay,
+    Until at last, naked and bare,
+    She shivers in the piercing air;
+    And when the Spring comes, Winter sped,
+    'Tis vain to call her--she is dead!
+      But when Love from Faith is gone,
+    Faith lingers not still on and on;
+    That while her form yet meets your eye,
+    You can pronounce 'She'll surely die.'
+    SHE'S DEAD i' the instant: or you will
+    Maintain a stark corpse liveth still,
+    Whose soul has pass'd beyond the sky,
+    Sunder'd until the last great Cry.
+    Faith is the body, Love the soul;
+    Take Love from it, you take the whole:
+    Now, now indeed thy Faith's alone,
+    But being alone, lo, it is none.
+    To make it clear, turn Homer's page
+    That paints Achilles' hate and rage,
+    When, having mighty Hector slain,
+    He dragg'd him dead over the plain--
+    That Hector whom the chariot feels
+    Dragg'd helpless, lifeless at its wheels,
+    Was it the same who, with proud crest,
+    That chariot's lord had lately prest,
+    Eager the victory to wrest?
+    Hercules' name and deeds dost see
+    In Œta's bloody tragedy,
+    When dead the mighty hero lay,
+    Of jealousy the poison'd prey.
+    His living strength the lion slew,
+    And hide Nemæan round him threw:
+    'Gainst more than lion-rage of Death
+    Dost summon the sad corpse of Faith?
+    Sure Love with love for Faith will burn,
+    While Faith herself trusts Love in turn.
+
+THEREFORE:
+
+    That Faith alone, lording it high,
+    Which Hope despairs of, and with cry
+      Of anguish Love can never love,
+      Is not the Faith sent from Above:
+      The Faith that thus would be alone,
+      What is't to us--desolate, lone?
+      Faith then, that lovèd will not love
+      Nor hope--may no such Faith me move!
+      But ever in my bosom lie
+      Faith, Hope, and Love in trinity:
+    Yea, Love himself shall Faith's best lover prove,
+    And Faith confirm his strongest faith in Love.        G.
+
+
+BAPTISMUS NON TOLLIT FUTURA PECCATA.
+
+    Quisquis es ille tener modo quem tua mater[93] Achilles
+      In Stygis aethereae provida tinxit aquis,
+    Sanus, sed non securus dimitteris illinc:
+      In nova non tutus vulnera vivis adhuc.
+    Mille patent aditus; et plus quam calce petendus            5
+      Ad nigri metues spicula mille dei.
+    Quod si est vera salus, veterem meminisse salutem;
+      Si nempe hoc vere est esse, fuisse pium;
+    Illa tibi veteres navis quae vicerat Austros,
+      Si manet in mediis usque superstes aquis;                10
+    Ac dum tu miseros in littore visis amicos,
+      Et peccatorum triste sodalitium,
+    Illa tibi interea tutis trahet otia velis,
+      Expectans donec tu rediisse queas:
+    Quin igitur da vina, puer; da vivere vitae;                15
+      Mitte suum senibus, mitte supercilium;
+    Donemus timide, ô socii, sua frigora brumae:
+      Aeternae teneant hic nova regna rosae.
+    Ah, non tam tetricos sic eluctabimur Euros;
+      Effractam non est sic revocare ratem.                    20
+    Has undas aliis decet ergo extinguere in undis;
+      Naufragium hoc alio immergere naufragio:
+    Possit ut ille malis oculus modo naufragus undis,
+      Jam lacrymis melius naufragus esse suis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+BAPTISM CANCELS NOT AFTER-SINS.
+
+    O young Achilles, whom a mother's care
+      Hath dipp'd as in a sacred Stygian wave;
+    Whole, but yet not secure, thou hence dost fare,
+      For there are wounds from which it will not save.
+    A thousand ways of entrance open lie
+      For evil; not alone against thy heel
+    The prince of darkness in his rage lets-fly
+      The thousand arrows thou mayst dread to feel.
+    But if remember'd health may still have given
+      True health, and to have been is still to be,
+    Thou seem'st as one whose bark, by storms unriven,
+      Still rides, as yet unconquer'd, on the sea;
+    And, while on shore thy friends thou visitest,
+      And the sad company of them that sin,
+    With furlèd sails upon the waves at rest,
+      Thy bark floats idly till thou art within.
+    But if for this thou criest overbold,
+      'Bring wine! enjoy the moment as it goes;
+    Leave to old age its cares; dismiss the cold,
+      While in new realms for ever reigns the rose!'
+    Ah, know that not in revels such as these
+      Learn we to struggle with the spiteful gale;
+    Nor thus can hope to rescue from rough seas
+      The broken cable and the driven sail.
+    These waves must in another wave be wash'd,
+      This shipwreck in another shipwreck drown'd;
+    The eye in such ill storms so vilely dashed,
+      A happier wreck in its own tears be found.         CL.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+IV.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The Sancroft MS., as before, furnishes the following hitherto
+    unprinted longer Poems, which I place under SACRED, as being
+    throughout in subject and treatment such. The Rev. RICHARD WILTON,
+    M.A., as before, has at once the praise and responsibility of the
+    translations in the whole of this section. G.
+
+
+
+
+PSALMUS I.
+
+
+    O te te nimis et nimis beatum,
+    Quem non lubricus implicavit error;
+    Nec risu misero procax tumultus.
+    Tu cum grex sacer undique execrandis
+    Strident consiliis, nec aure felix;
+    Felix non animo, vel ore mixtus,
+    Haud intelligis impios susurros.
+    Sed tu deliciis ferox repostis
+    Cultu simplice, sobriaque cura
+    Legem numinis usque et usque volvis.
+    Laeta sic fidas colit arbor undas,
+    Quem immiti violentus aura
+    Seirius frangit, neque contumacis.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    This fragment of a Latin rendering of the first Psalm may be
+    compared with BUCHANAN'S, but, I fear, not to its advantage. It were
+    superfluous to give a translation of it; but see the parallel which
+    follows. G.
+
+
+IRA PROCELLAE.
+
+    At tu, profane pulvis, et lusus sacer
+    Cujusvis aurae; fronte qua tandem feres
+    Vindex tribunal? quanta tum, et qualis tuae
+    Moles procellae stabit? O quam ferreo
+    Frangere nutu, praeda frontis asperae,
+    Sacrique fulminandus ah procul, procul
+    A luce vultus, aureis procul a locis,
+    Ubi longa gremio mulcet aeterno pios.
+    Sincera semper pax, et umbrosa super
+    Insurgit ala, vividique nectaris
+    Imbres beatos rore perpetuo pluit.
+    Sic ille, sic, ô vindice, stat vigil,
+    Et stabit ira torvus in impios,
+      Seseque sub mentes bonorum
+        Insinuat facili favore.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE WRATH OF THE JUDGMENT-WHIRLWIND.
+
+    But thou, O dust profane, and of each air
+    The plaything doom'd, with what face wilt thou bear
+    The Judgment-throne? how huge a stormy cloud
+    Will lower upon thee! how wilt thou be bow'd
+    With iron nod, the prey of frowning Face,
+    By thunder to be driven far off, apace,
+    From light of sacred Countenance! afar
+    From golden regions, where the righteous are,
+    Sooth'd in pure Peace's lap eterne, whose wing
+    Towers high above them, overshadowing;
+    While happy showers of nectar sweet imbue
+    Their lips, as with an everlasting dew.
+      The wicked so His watchful ire will learn,
+    And cower 'neath God's avenging countenance stern;
+    The righteous so His love divine will feel
+    With gentle lapse into their bosom steal.         R. WI.
+
+
+CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+    Ergo veni; quicunque ferant tua signa timores,
+      Quae nos cunque vocant tristia, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; suus avulsum rapiat labor axem,
+      Nec sinat implicitas ire redire vias;
+    Mutuus attonito titubet sub foedere mundus,
+      Nec natura vagum dissona volvat opus.
+    Christe, veni; roseos ultra remeare per ortus
+      Nolit, et ambiguos Sol trahat aeger equos.
+    Christe, veni; ipsa suas patiatur Cynthia noctes,
+      Plus quam Thessalico tincta tremore genas;
+    Astrorum mala caesaries per inane dolendum
+      Gaudeat, horribili flore repexa caput;
+    Sole sub invito subitae vis improba noctis
+      Corripiat solitam, non sua jura, diem;
+    Importuna dies, nec Eoi conscia pacti,
+      Per desolatae murmura noctis eat.
+    Christe, veni; tonet Oceanus pater, et sua nolit
+      Claustra vagi montes sub nova sceptra meent.
+    Christe, veni; quodcunque audet metus, audeat ultra
+      Fata id agant, quod agant; tu modo, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; quacunque venis mercede malorum.
+      Quanti hoc constiterit cunque venire, veni.
+    Teque tuosque oculos tanti est potuisse videre!
+      O tanti est te vel sic potuisse frui!
+    Quicquid id est, veniat. TU MODO, CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EVEN SO: COME, LORD JESUS.
+
+    O come; whatever fears Thy standards carry,
+    Or sorrows summon us, Lord, do not tarry.
+    Come, Lord; though labouring heaven whirl from its place,
+    And its perplexèd paths no more can trace;
+    Though sympathising earth astonied reel,
+    And nature jarrèd cease its round to wheel.
+    Come, Lord; though sun refuse with rosy beam
+    To rise, and sickly drives a doubtful team.
+    Come, Lord; though moon look more aghast at night
+    Than when her cheeks with panic fear are white;
+    Though ominous comets through the dolorous air
+    Hurtle, and round their brow dread fire-wreaths wear;
+    Though spite of struggling sun Night's sudden sway
+    Impious and lawless seize the accustom'd day;
+    Mistimèd Day, mindless of eastern glow,
+    Through moanings of forsaken Night should go.
+    Come, Lord; though father Ocean roars and lowers,
+    That his mov'd mountain-bars own other powers.
+    Come, Lord; whate'er Fear dares, e'en let it dare;
+    Let Fates do what they will, be Thou but there.
+    Come, Lord; with whate'er recompense of ill,
+    Whate'er Thy coming cost, O come, Lord, still.
+    Thee and Thine eyes, O what 'twill be to see!
+    Thee to enjoy e'en so, what will that be!
+    Let come what will, do Thou, Lord, only come.     R. WI.
+
+
+CIRCUMCISIO.
+
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, qui tam bona lilia primus
+      In tam crudeles jussit abire rosas;
+    Virgineum hoc qui primus ebur violavit ab ostro,
+      Inque sui instituit muricis ingenium.
+    Scilicet hinc olim quicunque cucurrerit amnis,
+      Ex hoc purpurei germine fontis erit.
+    Scilicet hunc mortis primum puer accipit unguem,
+      Injiciunt hodie fata, furorque manus.
+    Ecce illi sanguis fundi jam coepit; et ecce
+      Qui fundi possit, vix bene sanguis erat;
+    Excitat e dolio vix dum bene musta recenti,
+      Atque rudes furias in nova membra vocat.
+    Improbus, ut nimias jam nunc accingitur iras,
+      Armaque non molli sollicitanda manu;
+    Improbus, ut teneras audet jam ludere mortes,
+      Et vitae ad modulum, quid puerile mori;
+    Improbus, ut tragici impatiens praeludia fati
+      Ornat, et in socco jam negat ire suo:
+    Scilicet his pedibus manus haec meditata cothurnos?
+      Haec cum blanditiis mens meditata minas?
+    Haec tam dura brevem decuere crepundia dextram?
+      Dextra giganteis haec satis apta genis?
+    Sic cunis miscere cruces? cumque ubere matris
+      Commisisse neces et scelus et furias?
+    Quo ridet patri, hoc tacite quoque respicit hastam,
+      Quoque oculo matrem mulcet, in arma redit.
+    Dii superi, furit his oculis! hoc asper in ore est!
+      Dat Marti vultus, quos sibi mallet Amor.
+    Deliciae irarum! torvi, tenera agmina, risus!
+      Blande furor! terror dulcis! amande metus!
+    Praecocis in paenas pueri lascivia tristis!
+      Cruda rudimenta! et torva tyrocinia!
+    Jam parcum breviusque brevi pro corpore vulnus,
+      Proque brevi brevior vulnere sanguis eat:
+    Olim, cum nervi vitaeque ferocior haustus
+      Materiam morti luxuriemque dabunt;
+    Olim maturos ultro conabitur imbres;
+      Robustum audebit tunc solidumque mori.
+    Ergo illi, nisi qui in saevos concreverit usus,
+      Nec nisi quem possit fundere, sanguis erit?
+    Euge, puer trux! euge tamen mitissime rerum!
+      Quique tibi tantum trux potes esse, puer?
+    Euge tibi trux! euge mihi mitissime rerum!
+      Euge Leo mitis! trux sed et Agne tamen!
+    Macte, puer, macte hoc tam durae laudis honore!
+      Macte, o paenarum hac indole et ingenio!
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, tam docte dolorum,
+      In tristem properas sic, puer, ire virum.
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, puer auree, crescis,
+      Mortis proficiens hac quasi sub ferula.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.
+
+    Ah, fierce, fierce knife, which such sweet lilies first
+    Into such cruel roses made to burst;
+    Which first this ivory pure with purple stain'd,
+    And in the white a deeper dye engrain'd.
+    Whatever stream hereafter hence shall flow,
+    Out of this purple fountain-head shall grow.
+    Now first this tender Child Death's talons knows,
+    The Fates and Fury now hurl their first blows.
+    See now His blood begins to pour; and see
+    Scarce blood enough to pour there seems to be.
+    Scarce wise to broach the new wine from the wood,
+    And 'gainst those young limbs call the Furies rude.
+    Wanton, e'en now He girds on woes too much,
+    And arms not to be tried by such soft touch:
+    Wanton, He dares at gentle deaths to play,
+    And for His age to die, as a child may:
+    Wanton, beforehand acts His tragic woe,
+    Restless, refusing in child-step to go.
+    Buskins is this hand shaping for those feet,
+    And does this mind plan threats with coaxings sweet?
+    Such playthings stern does this small hand bespeak,
+    And is it match'd with giant's iron cheek?
+    To mingle cross with cradle, mother's breast
+    With slaughter, wickedness, and rage unblest?
+    His smiling eye now glances at the spear,
+    And turns to arms from soothing mother dear.
+    God, with such face to frown, such eyes to rage!
+    War wins the looks which Love would fain engage.
+    O winsome angers! savage smiles--mild brood--
+    Soft rage, sweet terror, awe which might be woo'd!
+    Sad wanton forwardness of Child for woes;
+    Harsh rudiments, stern training which He chose!
+    Now scantier wound for scanty body show,
+    And scantier blood for scanty wound let now.
+    Soon, when His strength and deeper draught of breath
+    Shall furnish food luxuriously for Death,
+    'Twill be His pleasure then full showers to try,
+    Then will He strongly, wholly dare to die.
+    No blood but what to cruel use will grow
+    To Him belongs, or what He can bid flow.
+    Ah, cruel Child, though of all things most mild,
+    Yet to Thyself Thou canst be cruel, Child;
+    To Thyself cruel, but most mild to me;
+    A Lion mild, a pitiless Lamb here see.
+    Long, long may this stern praise Thine honour lift,
+    A faculty for woes[94] and innate gift.
+    Fierce knife, from which experience sharp He borrows,
+    While the Child hastes to grow the Man of Sorrows;
+    Fierce knife, 'neath which Thou draw'st Thy golden breath,
+    Advancing as 'twere 'neath the rod of Death.      R. WI.
+
+
+VIRGO.
+
+    Ne, pia, ne nimium, Virgo, permitte querelis:
+      Haud volet, haud poterit natus abesse diu.
+    Nam quid eum teneat? vel quae magis oscula vellet?
+      Vestri illum indigenam quid vetet esse sinus?
+    Quippe illis quae labra genis magis apta putentur?
+      Quaeve per id collum dignior ire manus?
+    His sibi quid speret puer ambitiosius ulmo,
+      Quove sub amplexu dulcius esse queat?
+    O quae tam teneram sibi vitis amicior ulmum
+      Implicet, alternis nexibus immoriens?
+    Cui circum subitis eat impatientior ulnis?
+      Aut quae tam nimiis vultibus ora notet?
+    Quae tam prompta puer toties super oscula surgat?
+      Qua signet gemma nobiliore genam?
+    Illa ubi tam vernis adolescat mitius auris,
+      Tamve sub apricis pendeat uva jugis?
+    Illi qua veniat languor tam gratus in umbra?
+      Commodius sub quo murmure somnus agat?
+    O ubi tam charo, tam casto in carcere regnet,
+      Maternoque simul virgineoque sinu,
+    Ille ut ab his fugiat, nec tam bona gaudia vellet?
+      Ille ut in hos possit non properare sinus?
+    Ille sui tam blanda sinus patrimonia spernet?
+      Haeres tot factus tam bene deliciis?
+    Ne tantum, ne Diva, tuis permitte querelis:
+      Quid dubites? Non est hic fugitivus Amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VIRGIN MARY,
+
+ON LOSING THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    Not, not too much, Virgin, to plaints give way;
+    Nor will, nor can, thy Son long from thee stay.
+    Why should He? Where so love to be carest?
+    What could prevent His nestling in thy breast?
+    What lips more suited to those cheeks divine?
+    What hand to clasp that neck more fit than thine?
+    What could He hope more clinging than these arms?
+    Or what embraces e'er possess such charms?
+    What kindlier vine its tender elm around
+    Could twine, in mutual folds e'en dying found?
+    To whom with sudden arms more eager go?
+    Who on this face such yearning glances throw?
+    Where 'mid such quick-rain'd kisses could He wake?'
+    Whence His prest cheek a nobler ruby take?
+    Where could that grape ripen in airs more mild,
+    Or hang 'neath hills where suns so sweetly smil'd?
+    Where could such grateful languor o'er Him creep,
+    Or what more soothing murmur lull to sleep?
+    Where could He reign in nook so chaste, so dear,
+    As in this Mother's, Virgin's bosom here?
+    Could He fly hence, and such blest joys decline,
+    And could He help hastening to breast of thine?
+    This balmy bosom's heritage not share,
+    Of such delights so easily made heir?
+    Nay, Lady, nay; thy loud complainings stay;
+    Be cheer'd: this is no Love that flies away.      R. WI.
+
+
+APOCALYPSE XII. 7.
+
+    Arma, viri! aetheriam quocunque sub ordine pubem
+      Siderei proceres ducitis; arma, viri!
+    Quaeque suis, nec queis solita est, stet dextra sagittis;
+      Stet gladii saeva luce corusca sui.
+    Totus adest, totisque movet se major in iris,
+      Fertque Draco, quicquid vel Draco ferre potest.
+    Quas secum facies, imae mala pignora noctis;
+      Quot secum nigros ducit in arma deos.
+    Jam pugnas parat, heu saevus! jam pugnat, et ecce,
+      Vix potui 'Pugnat' dicere, jam cecidit.
+    His tamen ah nimium est quod frontibus addidit iras;
+      Quod potuit rugas his posuisse genis.
+    Hoc torvum decus est, tumidique ferocia fati,
+      Quod magni sceleris mors quoque magna fuit.
+    Quod neque, si victus, jaceat victoria vilis;
+      Quod meruit multi fulminis esse labor;
+    Quod queat ille suas hoc inter dicere flammas:
+      'Arma tuli frustra: sed tamen arma tuli.'
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WAR IN HEAVEN.
+
+Rev. xii. 7.
+
+    To arms, ye starry chieftains all, who lead
+    The youth of heaven to war--to arms, with speed!
+    Let each right-hand its untried arrows grasp,
+    Or its own fiercely-gleaming falchion clasp.
+    _He_ is _all_ here, and mightier in his wrath,
+    The Dragon brings all powers the Dragon hath:
+    Strange forms, curst children of the deepest Night--
+    What dusky gods he marshals to the fight!
+    Now he makes ready, fights now, fierce as hell!
+    Scarce could I say 'He fights,' when, lo, he fell.
+    Ah, 'twas too much to scar with wrath these faces,
+    And leave on angel-cheeks such furrow'd traces.
+    'Tis his grim boast and proudly-swelling fate,
+    That of a great crime e'en the end was great:
+    If vanquish'd, that 'twas no mean victory;
+    Much boltèd thunder there requir'd to be;
+    That with these words his fiery pains he charms:
+    'Arms I bore vainly; but I did bear arms.'        R. WI.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    See our Essay, as before, for relation of this poem to the Sospetto
+    d' Herode, and others. G.
+
+
+NON ACCIPIMUS BREVEM VITAM,
+
+SED FACIMUS.
+
+    Ergo tu luges nimium citatam
+    Circulo vitam properante volvi?
+    Tu Deos parcos gemis, ipse cum sis
+                        Prodigus aevi?
+    Ipse quod perdis, quereris perire?
+    Ipse tu pellis, sed et ire ploras?
+    Vita num servit tibi? servus ipse
+                        Cedet abactus.
+    Est fugax vitae, fateor, fluentum:
+    Prona sed clivum modo det voluptas,
+    Amne proclivi magis, et fugace
+                        Labitur unda.
+    Fur Sopor magnam hinc, oculos recludens,
+    Surripit partem, ruit inde partem
+    Temporis magnam spolium reportans
+                        Latro voluptas.
+    Tu creas mortes tibi mille, et aeva
+    Plura quo perdas, tibi plura poscis......
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WE DO NOT RECEIVE, BUT MAKE, A SHORT LIFE.
+
+    Dost thou lament that life, urg'd-on too quickly,
+    Rolls round its course in hasting revolution?
+    Dost blame the thrifty gods, when thou thyself art
+                        Lavish of lifetime?
+    What thyself wastest, mourn'st thou if it perish?
+    Dost drive it from thee, but deplore it going?
+    Is life thy servant? Sooth, a very servant
+                        Turn'd off departeth.
+    Life's stream is fleeting--I confess it--always;
+    But once let Pleasure yield an easy incline,
+    With headlong wave and with more fleeting current
+                        Onward it glideth.
+    Sleep, the thief, closing drowsy eyelids, snatcheth
+    One mighty portion; while as large a portion
+    Pleasure, the robber, carries off unchalleng'd--
+                        Time's precious gold-dust.
+    Thou for thyself a thousand deaths createst;
+    And the more lifetimes thou dost spend in folly,
+    So many more in lieu of them demandest;
+                        Wasting and wanting.          R. WI.
+
+
+DE SANGUINE MARTYRUM.
+
+    Felices, properatis io, properatis, et altam
+      Vicistis gyro sub breviore viam.
+    Vos per non magnum vestri mare sanguinis illuc
+      Cymba tulit nimiis non operosa notis,
+    Quo nos tam lento sub remigio luctantes
+      Ducit inexhausti vis male fida freti.
+    Nos mora, nos longi consumit inertia lethi;
+      In ludum mortis luxuriemque sumus.
+    Nos aevo et senio et latis permittimur undis;
+      Spargimur in casus, porrigimur furiis.
+    Nos miseri sumus ex amplo spatioque perimus;
+      In nos inquirunt fata, probantque manus;
+    Ingenium fati sumus, ambitioque malorum.
+      Conatus mortis consiliumque sumus.
+    In vitae multo multae patet area mortis[95]
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Non vitam nobis numerant, quot viximus anni:
+      Vita brevis nostra est; sit licet acta diu.
+    Vivere non longum est, quod longam ducere vitam:
+      Res longa in vita saepe peracta brevi est.
+    Nec vos tam vitae Deus in compendia misit,
+      Quam vetuit vestrae plus licuisse neci.
+    Accedit vitae quicquid decerpitur aevo,
+      Atque illo brevius, quo citius morimur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+MARTYRS.
+
+    Good speed ye made, in sooth, good speed, ye blest,
+    And by a shorter course won heavenly rest;
+    Over a narrow sea of your own blood
+    Death's bark has borne you, by few gales withstood:
+    While with slow oars we toil the shore to gain,
+    Through boisterous fury of the boundless main.
+    _We_ waste with lingering, indolent decay;
+    We are Death's pastime and his wanton play;
+    O'er time and age and wide waves we are blown,
+    Expos'd to furies and to chances thrown.
+    Wretched in full are we, perish at length;
+    Fates seek us out, and try on us their strength.
+    We are Fate's skill, Evils' ambition fine,
+    Death's utmost effort and deep-plann'd design.
+    In a long life wide field for Death there lies;
+    In a short life grand deeds may daze men's eyes.[96]
+    By years we live we reckon not our life;
+    Our life is short, with great deeds be it rife.
+    To spend long years, let not long life be thought;
+    A long-liv'd deed oft in short life is wrought.
+    God not so much contracted your life's space,
+    As order'd Death the sooner to give place.
+    What earth's life loses, gains the life on high:
+    By how much sooner, so much less we die.          R. WI.
+
+
+SPES.
+
+    Spes diva, salve! diva avidam tuo
+    Necessitatem numine prorogans,
+      Vindicta fortunae furentis,
+        Una salus mediis ruinis.
+    Regina quamvis, tu solium facis
+    Depressa parvi tecta tugurii;
+      Surgit jacentes inter; illic
+        Firma magis tua regna constant.
+    Cantus catenis, carmina carcere,
+    Dolore ab ipso gaudiaque exprimis:
+      Scintilla tu vivis sub imo
+        Pectoris, haud metuens procellas.
+    Tu regna servis, copia pauperi,
+    Victis triumphus, littora naufrago,
+      Ipsisque damnatis patrona,
+        Anchora sub medio profundo.
+    Quin ipse alumnus sum tuus, ubere
+    Pendens ab isto, et hinc animam traho.
+      O Diva nutrix, ô foventes
+        Pande sinus, sitiens laboro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+HOPE.
+
+        Hail, goddess Hope!
+    Who Fate remorseless movest
+    Far off, and canst with raging Fortune cope;
+    'Mid ruin thou our sole salvation provest.
+        A mighty queen,
+    Thy throne on roof-trees lowly
+    And prostrate souls is fix'd, and there are seen
+    The firm foundations of thy kingdom holy.
+        A gladsome hymn
+    From fetters disengaging,
+    And joy from grief, thou liv'st in bosom dim,
+    A spark that laughs at tempests wildly raging.
+        A crown to slaves;
+    Abundance to the needy;
+    To shipwreck'd men a refuge from the waves;
+    To conquer'd and condemn'd deliverance speedy.
+        An 'Anchor sure,'
+    The eternal Rock thou graspest,
+    The strain of ocean 'stedfast' to endure;
+    And Heaven's calm joys 'within the veil' thou claspest.
+        Nay, I thy child,
+    Dependent here adore thee:
+    From thee I draw my life, O Mother mild;
+    Open thy fostering bosom, I implore thee.         R. WI.
+
+
+ΕΙΣ ΤΟΝ ΤΟΥ ΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΥ ΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΝ.
+
+    Ecce tuos lapides! nihil est pretiosius illis;
+      Seu pretium capiti dent, capiantve tuo.
+    Scilicet haec ratio vestri diadematis: hoc est,
+      Unde coronatis vos decet ire comis.
+    Quisque lapis quanto magis in se vilis habetur,
+      Ditior hoc capiti est gemma futura tuo.
+    Haec est, quae sacra didicit florere figura,
+      Non nisi per lacrymas charta videnda tuas.
+    Scilicet ah dices, haec cum spectaveris ora,
+      Ora sacer sic, ô sic tulit ille pater.
+    Sperabis solitas illinc, pia fulmina, voces;
+      Sanctaque tam dulci mella venire via.
+    Sic erat illa, suas Famae cum traderet alas,
+      Ad calamum, dices, sic erat illa manus.
+    Tale erat et pectus, celsae domus ardua mentis,
+      Tale suo plenum sidere pectus erat.
+    O bene fallacis mendacia pulchra tabellae,
+      Et qui tam simili vivit in aere, labor!
+    Cum tu tot chartis vitam, Pater alme, dedisti,
+      Haec merito vitam charta dat una tibi.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON STEPHEN'S CROWN.
+
+    [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.']
+
+    Behold thy stones! more precious nought is seen,
+    Whether they deck with precious rays serene
+    Thy head, or from it take a precious glow.
+    This is your style of diadem; e'en so
+    With crownèd locks 'tis seemly ye should go:
+    The viler in itself each stone may seem,
+    A richer gem upon thy head will gleam.
+    Behold the Book where, seen through mist of tears,
+    A sacred form in manhood's bloom appears.
+    Ah, you will say, when you behold this face,
+    Such looks, O such, our father us'd to grace.
+    The accustom'd sounds you hope for--holy thunder,
+    And the blest honey hid that sweet tongue under:
+    So, o'er his pen, you say, that hand was bent,
+    When her own wings to fetter'd Fame he lent.
+    Such was that breast, his spirit's lofty dwelling--
+    That breast with its own starry thoughts high swelling.
+    O pleasing fantasies of picture fair,
+    And kindred forms which laboured brass may bear!
+    Since through thee, Sire, such countless writings live,
+    Life unto thee let this one writing give.         R. WI.
+
+
+EXPOSTULATIO JESU CHRISTI
+
+CUM MUNDO INGRATO.
+
+    Sum pulcher: at nemo tamem me diligit.
+    Sum nobilis: nemo est mihi qui serviat.
+    Sum dives: a me nemo quicquam postulat.
+    Et cuncta possum: nemo me tamen timet.
+    Aeternus exsto: quaeror a paucissimis.
+    Prudensque sum: sed me quis est qui consulit?
+    Et sum Via: at per me quotusquisque ambulat?
+    Sum Veritas: quare mihi non creditur?
+    Sum Vita: verum rarus est qui me petit.
+    Sum Vera Lux: videre me nemo cupit.
+    Sum misericors: nullus fidem in me collocat.
+    Tu, si peris, non id mihi imputes, homo:
+    Salus tibi est a me parata: hac utere.[97]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+JESUS CHRIST'S EXPOSTULATION
+
+WITH AN UNGRATEFUL WORLD.
+
+    I am all-fair, yet no one loveth Me:
+    Noble, yet no one would My servant be:
+    Rich, yet no suppliant at My gate appears:
+    Almighty, yet before Me no one fears:
+    Eternal, I by very few am sought:
+    Wise am I, yet My counsel goes for nought:
+    I am the Way, yet by Me walks scarce one:
+    The Truth, why am I not relied upon?
+    The Life, yet seldom one My help requires:
+    The True Light, yet to see Me none desires:
+    And I am merciful, yet none is known
+    To place his confidence in Me alone.
+    Man, if thou perish, 'tis that thou dost choose it;
+    Salvation I have wrought for thee, O use it!      R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+I.
+
+FROM 'STEPS TO THE TEMPLE' AND 'DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES,' ETC.
+
+1646-1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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)--Phœnicis 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).
+
+    These Poems I have arranged under two classes: (_a_) Miscellaneous,
+    really, not merely formally, poetry: (_b_) 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.
+
+    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 Phœnicis 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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+BULLA.
+
+
+    Quid tibi vana suos offert mea Bulla tumores?
+      Quid facit ad vestrum pondus inane meum?
+    Expectat nostros humeros toga fortior. Ista
+      En mea Bulla, lares en tua dextra mei.
+        Quid tu? quae nova machina,                             5
+        Quae tam fortuito globo
+        In vitam properas brevem?
+        Qualis virgineos adhuc
+        Cypris concutiens sinus,
+        Cypris jam nova, jam recens,                           10
+        Et spumis media in suis,
+        Promsit purpureum latus;
+        Concha de patria micas,
+        Pulchroque exsilis impetu;
+        Statim et millibus ebria                               15
+        Ducens terga coloribus
+        Evolvis tumidos sinus
+        Sphaera plena volubili.
+        Cujus per varium latus,
+        Cujus per teretem globum                               20
+        Iris lubrica cursitans
+        Centum per species vagas,
+        Et picti facies chori
+        Circum regnat, et undique,
+        Et se Diva volatilis                                   25
+        Jucundo levis impetu
+        Et vertigine perfida
+        Lasciva sequitur fuga,
+        Et pulchre dubitat; fluit
+        Tam fallax toties novis,                               30
+        Tot se per reduces vias,
+        Erroresque reciprocos
+        Spargit vena coloribus;
+        Et pompa natat ebria.
+        Tali militia micans                                    35
+        Agmen se rude dividit;
+        Campis quippe volantibus,
+        Et campi levis aequore
+        Ordo insanus obambulans
+        Passim se fugit, et fugat.                             40
+        Passim perdit, et invenit.
+        Pulchrum spargitur hic Chaos.
+        Hic viva, hic vaga flumina
+        Ripa non propria meant,
+        Sed miscent socias vias,                               45
+        Communique sub alveo
+        Stipant delicias suas.
+        Quarum proximitas vaga
+        Tam discrimine lubrico,
+        Tam subtilibus arguit                                  50
+        Juncturam tenuem notis,
+        Pompa ut florida nullibi
+        Sinceras habeat vias;
+        Nec vultu niteat suo.
+        Sed dulcis cumulus novos                               55
+        Miscens purpureus sinus
+        Flagrant divitiis suis,
+        Privatum renuens jubar.
+        Floris diluvio vagi,
+        Floris sidere publico                                  60
+        Late ver subit aureum,
+        Atque effunditur in suae
+        Vires undique copiae.
+        Nempe omnis quia cernitur,
+        Nullus cernitur hic color,                             65
+        Et vicinia contumax
+        Allidit species vagas.
+        Illic contiguis aquis
+        Marcent pallidulae faces.
+        Unde hic vena tenellulae,                              70
+        Flaminis ebria proximis
+        Discit purpureas vias,
+        Et rubro salit alveo.
+        Ostri sanguineum jubar
+        Lambunt lactea flumina;                                75
+        Suasu caerulei maris
+        Mansuescit seges aurea;
+        Et lucis faciles genae
+        Vanas ad nebulas stupent;
+        Subque uvis rubicundulis                               80
+        Flagrant sobria lilia;
+        Vicinis adeo rosis
+        Vicinae invigilant nives;
+        Ut sint et niveae rosae,
+        Ut sunt et roseae nives,                               85
+        Accenduntque rosae nives,
+        Extinguuntque nives rosas.
+        Illic cum viridi rubet,
+        Hic et cum rutile viret,
+        Lascivi facies chori.                                  90
+        Et quicquid rota lubrica
+        Caudae stelligerae notat,
+        Pulchrum pergit et in ambitum.
+        Hic cœli implicitus labor,
+        Orbes orbibus obvii;                                   95
+        ex velleris aurei,
+        Grex pellucidus aetheris;
+        Qui noctis nigra pascua
+        Puris morsibus atterit;
+        Hic quicquid nitidum et vagum                         100
+        Coeli vibrat arenula,
+        Dulci pingitur in joco;
+        Hic mundus tener impedit
+        Sese amplexibus in suis.
+        Succinctique sinu globi                               105
+        Errat per proprium decus.
+        Hic nictant subitae faces,
+        Et ludunt tremulum diem,
+        Mox se surripiunt sui et
+        Quaerunt tecta supercili,                             110
+        Atque abdunt petulans jubar,
+        Subsiduntque proterviter.
+        Atque haec omnia quam brevis
+        Sunt mendacia machinae!
+        Currunt scilicet omnia                                115
+        Sphaera, non vitrea quidem--
+        Ut quondam Siculus globus--
+        Sed vitro nitida magis,
+        Sed vitro fragili magis,
+        Et vitro vitrea magis.                                120
+          Sum venti ingenium breve,
+        Flos sum, scilicet, aëris,
+        Sidus scilicet aequoris;
+        Naturae jocus aureus,
+        Naturae vaga fabula,                                  125
+        Naturae breve somnium.
+        Nugarum decus et dolor;
+        Dulcis doctaque vanitas.
+        Aurae filia perfidae;
+        Et risus facilis parens.                              130
+        Tantum gutta superbior,
+        Fortunatius et lutum.
+          Sum fluxae pretium spei;
+        Una ex Hesperidum insulis.
+        Formae pyxis, amantium                                135
+        Clare caecus ocellulus;
+        Vanae et cor leve gloriae.
+          Sum caecae speculum Deae,
+        Sum Fortunae ego tessera,
+        Quam dat militibus suis;                              140
+        Sum Fortunae ego symbolum,
+        Quo sancit fragilem fidem
+        Cum mortalibus ebriis,
+        Obsignatque tabellulas.
+          Sum blandum, petulans, vagum,                       145
+        Pulchrum, purpureum, et decens,
+        Comptum, floridulum, et recens,
+        Distinctum nivibus, rosis,
+        Undis, ignibus, aere,
+        Pictum, gemmeum, et aureum,                           150
+        O sum, scilicet, ô NIHIL.
+    Si piget, et longam traxisse in taedia pompam
+      Vivax, et nimium Bulla videtur anus:
+    Tolle tuos oculos pensum leve defluet, illam
+      Parca metet facili non operosa manu.                    155
+    Vixit adhuc. Cur vixit? adhuc tu nempe legebas.
+      Nempe fuit tempus tum potuisse mori?
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    A collation of the 'Bulla' with the Tanner MS. 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.     G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. THE BUBBLE. [TO REV. DR. LANY.]
+
+    What art thou? What new device,
+    Globe, chance-fashion'd in a trice,
+    Into brief existence bounding,
+    Perfectly thy circle rounding?
+    As when Cypris, her breast smiting--
+    Virgin still, all love inviting--
+    Cypris in young loveliness
+    Couch'd rosy where the white waves press
+    Her to bear and her to bless;
+    _So_ forth from thy native shell
+    Gleamest thou ineffable!
+    Springing up with graceful bound
+    And describing dainty round;
+    Thousand colours come and go
+    As thou dost thy fair curves show,
+    Swelling out--a whirling ball
+    Meet for Fairy-Festival;
+    Through whose sides of shifting hue,
+    Through whose smooth-turn'd globe, we view
+    Iris' gliding rainbow sitting,
+    In a hundred forms soft-flitting:
+    And semblance of a troop displaying,
+    All around dominion swaying:
+    And the Goddess volatile
+    With witching step and luring smile
+    Follows still with twinkling foot
+    In link'd mazes involute:
+    With many a sight-deceiving turn
+    And flight which makes pursuers burn,
+    And a graceful hesitation--
+    Only treacherous simulation:
+    JUST SO, and no less deceiving,
+    Our BUBBLE, all its colours weaving,
+    Follows ever-varying courses,
+    Or in air itself disperses:
+    Here now, there now, coming, going,
+    Wand'ring as if ebbing, flowing:
+    Sporting Passion's colours all
+    In ways that are bacchanal;
+    And the GLOBES undisciplin'd
+    As though driven by the wind,
+    Borne along the fleeting plains
+    Light as air; nor order reigns--
+    But the heaven-possess'd array
+    Moving each in its own way,
+    Hither now and thither flying,
+    Glancing, wavering, and dying,
+    Losing still their path and finding,
+    In a random inter-winding:
+    Rising, falling, on careering,
+    Vis'ble now, now disappearing;
+    Living wand'ring streams outgoing,
+    Ev'n Confusion beauteous showing:
+    Flowing not each in its course,
+    But each to other joining force;
+    Moving in pleasant pastime still
+    In a mutual good-will:
+    And a nearness that's so near
+    You the contact almost fear,
+    Yet so finely drawn to eye
+    In its delicate subtlety
+    That the procession, blossom-fair,
+    Nowhere has direction clear:
+    Nor with their own aspect glance,
+    But in the sweet luxuriance
+    Which skiey influences lend,
+    As in new windings on they trend:
+    Throwing off the stol'n sunlight
+    In a flood of blossoms bright,
+    Scatter'd on the fields of light;
+    Such a brilliancy of bloom
+    As all may share if all will come.
+    Now golden Spring advances lightly,
+    Spreading itself on all sides brightly,
+    Out of its rich and full supply
+    Open-handed, lavishly.
+      Since all colours you discern,
+    No one colour may you learn:
+    All tints melted into one
+    In a sweet confusion,
+    You cannot tell 'tis that or this,
+    So shifting is the loveliness:
+    Gleams as of the peacock's crest,
+    Or such as on dove's neck rest;
+    Opal, edg'd with amethyst,
+    Or the sunset's purpl'd mist,
+    Or the splendour that there lies
+    In a maiden's azure eyes,
+    Kindling in a sweet surprise:
+    Flower-tints, shell-tints, tender-dy'd,
+    Save to curious unespied:
+    Lo, one BUBBLE follows t'other,
+    Differing still from its frail brother,
+    Striking still from change to change
+    With a quick and vivid range.
+    There in the contiguous wave
+    Torches palely-glist'ning lave;
+    Here what delicate love-lights shine!
+    Through them near flames bick'ring shine.
+    Matching flushing of the rose,
+    As the ruddy channel flows:
+    Milky rivers in white tide
+    Lucent, hush, still onwards glide:
+    Purple rivers in high flood--
+    Red as is man's awful blood:
+    Corn-fields smiling goldenly
+    Meet the blue laugh of the sea:
+    Mist-clouds sailing on their way
+    Darken the changeful cheeks of Day:
+    And beneath vine-clusters red
+    Lilies are transfigurèd:
+    Here you mark as 'twere the snows
+    Folding o'er the neighb'ring rose;
+    Snow into blown roses flushing,
+    Roses wearied of their blushing,
+    As the shifting tints embrace,
+    And their course you scarce can trace;
+    Now retiring, now advancing,
+    Now in wanton mazes dancing;
+    Now a flow'ry red appears,
+    Now a purpl'd green careers.
+      All the signs in heaven that burn
+    Where the gliding wheel doth turn,
+    Here in radiant courses go,
+    As though 'twere a heaven below:
+    The sky's mazes involute
+    Circling onward with deft foot,
+    Sphere on heavenly sphere attending,
+    Coming, going, inter-blending:
+    And the gold-fleec'd flocks of air
+    Wand'ring inviolate and fair;
+    Flocks that drink in chaste delight
+    Dewy pastures of the Night,
+    Leaving no trace of foot or bite.
+    Whate'er of change above you note,
+    As these clouds o'er heaven float,
+    Lo, repeated here we see
+    In a sportive mimicry.
+      Here the tiny tender world
+    Within its own brightness furl'd
+    Wavers, as in fairy robe
+    'Twere a belted linèd globe.
+    Lights as of the breaking Day
+    Tremble with iridescent play,
+    But now swiftly upward going,
+    Evanescent colours showing,
+    In some nook their beams concealing,
+    Nor their wantonness revealing.
+    O, what store of wonders here
+    In this short-liv'd slender SPHERE!
+    For all wonders I have told
+    Are within its GLOBE enroll'd:
+    Not such globe as skillèd he
+    Fashion'd of old in Sicily:
+    Brighter e'en than crystals are,
+    And than crystal frailer far.
+      'I am Spirit of the Wind,
+    For a flitting breath design'd;
+    I am Blossom born of air;
+    I'm of Ocean, guiding Star;
+    I'm a golden sport of Nature,
+    Frolic stamp'd on ev'ry feature:
+    I'm a myth, an idle theme,
+    The brief substance of a dream:
+    Grace and grief of trifles, I
+    Charm--a well-skill'd vanity;
+    Begotten of the treacherous breeze,
+    Parent of absurdities:
+    Yet, a drop or mote, at best,
+    Favour'd more than are the rest.
+    I'm price of Hope that no more is,
+    One of the Hesperides:
+    Beauty's casket, doating eye
+    Of lovers blinded wilfully:
+    The light Spirit of Vanity.
+    I am Fortune's looking-glass,
+    The countersign which she doth pass
+    To her troop of warriors:
+    I'm the oath by which she swears,
+    And wherewith she doth induce
+    Men to trust a fragile truce.
+    Charming, provoking, still astray,
+    Fair and elegant and gay,
+    Trim and fresh and blossom-hu'd;
+    Interchangeably imbu'd
+    With rosy-red and the snow's whiteness,
+    Air and water and fire's brightness:
+    Painted, gemm'd, of golden dye,
+    NOTHING--after all--am I!'
+    If now, O gentle Reader, it appear
+      Irksome my BUBBLE'S chatterings to hear;
+    If on it frowning, 'Words, words, words!' thou say,
+      No more I'll chatter, but at once obey.
+    So, turn thine eye, my Friend, no more give heed;
+      My BUBBLE lives but if thou choose to read.
+    Cease thou to read, and I resign my breath;
+      Cease thou to read, and that will be my death.      G.
+
+
+TRANQUILLITAS ANIMI:
+
+SIMILITUDINE DUCTA AB AVE CAPTIVA, ET CANORA TAMEN.
+
+    Ut cum delicias leves, loquacem
+    Convivam nemoris vagamque musam
+    Observans, dubia viator arte
+    Prendit desuper: horridusve ruris
+    Eversor, male perfido paratu,                               5
+    Heu durus! rapit, atque io triumphans
+    Vadit: protinus et sagace nisu
+    Evolvens digitos, opus tenellum
+    Ducens pollice lenis erudito,
+    Virgarum implicat ordinem severum,                         10
+    Angustam meditans domum volucri.
+    Illa autem, hospitium licet vetustum
+    Mentem solicitet nimis nimisque,
+    Et suetum nemus, hinc opaca mitis
+    Umbrae frigora, et hinc aprica puri                        15
+    Solis fulgura, patriaeque sylvae
+    Nunquam muta quies; ubi illa dudum
+    Totum per nemus, arborem per omnem,
+    Hospes libera liberis querelis
+    Cognatum bene provocabat agmen:                            20
+    Quanquam ipsum nemus arboresque alumnam
+    Implorant profugam, atque amata multum
+    Quaerant murmura lubricumque carmen
+    Blandi gutturis et melos serenum.
+    Illa autem, tamen, illa jam relictae,                      25
+    Simplex! haud meminit domus, nec ultra
+    Sylvas cogitat; at brevi sub antro,
+    Ah penna nimium brevis recisa,
+    Ah ritu vidua sibique sola,
+    Privata heu fidicen! canit, vagoque                        30
+    Exercens querulam domum susurro
+    Fallit vincula, carceremque mulcet;
+    Nec pugnans placidae procax quieti
+    Luctatur gravis, orbe sed reducto
+    Discursu vaga saltitans tenello,                           35
+    Metitur spatia invidae cavernae.
+    Sic in se pia mens reposta, secum
+    Alte tuta sedet, nec ardet extra,
+    Aut ullo solet aestuare fato:
+    Quamvis cuncta tumultuentur, atrae                         40
+    Sortis turbine non movetur illa.
+    Fortunae furias onusque triste
+    Non tergo minus accipit quieto,
+    Quam vectrix Veneris columba blando
+    Admittat juga delicata collo.                              45
+    Torvae si quid inhorruit procellae,
+    Si quid saeviat et minetur, illa
+    Spernit, nescit, et obviis furorem
+    Fallit blanditiis, amatque et ambit
+    Ipsum, quo male vulneratur, ictum.                         50
+    Curas murmure non fatetur ullo;
+    Non lambit lacrymas dolor, nec atrae
+    Mentis nubila frons iniqua prodit.
+    Quod si lacryma pervicax rebelli
+    Erumpit tamen evolatque gutta,                             55
+    Invitis lacrymis, negante luctu,
+    Ludunt perspicui per ora risus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. PEACE OF MIND:[98]
+
+UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A CAPTIVE SONG-BIRD.
+
+    The time of the singing of birds is come;
+    I will away i' the greenwood to roam;
+    I will away; and thou azure-ey'd Muse
+    Deign with thy gifts my mind to suffuse.--
+      So o'erheard I one say, as he withdrew
+    To a fairy scene that well I knew,
+    Light lac'd with shadow, shadow with light,
+    Leaves playing bo-peep from morn unto night.
+      But, ah, what is this? Alas, and alas,
+    A sweet bird flutters upon the grass;
+    Flutters and struggles with quivering wing!
+    Tempted and snar'd--gentle, guileless thing.
+    Vain, vain thy struggles; for, lo, a hand
+    Hollow'd above, makes thee captive stand.
+      Home hies the Captor, loud singing his joy;
+    He has got a pet song-bird for his boy.
+    Now twining and twisting, a cage he makes
+    Wire-wrought and fast'n'd. Ah, my heart aches!
+    It is a prison, for the poor bird prepar'd;
+    Shut close and netted, netted and barr'd.
+      Comes the flutter and gleam of forest-leaves
+    Through the trellis'd window under the eaves;
+    Comes the breath and stir of the vernal wind,
+    Comes the goldening sunshine--to remind
+    Of all that is lost; comes now and again
+    Far off a song from the blading grain;
+    Calling, still calling the Songster to come
+    Back--once more back--to its woodland home.
+      I mark eyelids rise; mark the lifting wing;
+    Mark the swelling throat, as if it would sing;
+    Mark the weary 'chirp, chirp,' like infant's cry,
+    Yearning after the free and boundless sky;
+    For the grand old woods; once more to sit
+    On the swinging bough into blossom smit.
+      Vain, vain, poor bird! thou'rt captive still;
+    Thou must bend thee to thy Captor's will:
+    Thy wing is cut; from thy mate thou'rt taken;
+    All alone thou abidest, sad, forsaken.
+      The days pass on; and I look in once more
+    On the captive bird 'bove the ivied door.
+    Sweetly it sings, as if all by itself,
+    A short, quiet song. O thou silly elf,
+    Hast forgot the greenwood, the forest hoar,
+    The flash of the sky, the wind's soften'd roar?
+    Hast forgot that thou still a captive art,
+    Prison'd in wire-work? hast forgot thy smart?
+      'Tis even so: for now down, and now up,
+    Now hopping on perch, now sipping from cup,
+    I mark it sullen and pining no more,
+    But keeping within, though open the door.
+    List ye, now list--from its swelling throat,
+    Of its woodland song you miss never a note.
+    Alone, it is true, and in a wir'd cage;
+    But kindness has melted the captive's rage.
+      Behold a sweet meaning in this bird's story--
+    How the child of God is ripen'd for glory:
+    For it is thus with the child of God,
+    Smitten and bleeding 'neath His rod:
+    Thus 'tis with him; for, tranquil and calm
+    'Mid dangers and insults, he singeth his psalm:
+    Alone, all alone, deserted of man,
+    Slander'd and trampl'd and plac'd under ban,
+    He frets not, he pines not, he plains not still,
+    But sees clear in all his dear Father's will:
+    Come loss, come cross, come bereavement, come wrong,
+    He sets all to music, turns all to song;
+    Come terror, come trial, come dark day, come bright,
+    Still upward he looks, and knows all is right:
+    Wounded, he sees the Hand gives the stroke,
+    Bending his neck to bear his Lord's yoke,
+    And finds it grow light, by grace from Above,
+    As love's slender collars o' the Queen of Love;
+    Comes the starting tear, 'tis dried with a smile;
+    Comes a cloud, as you look 'tis gone the while;
+    Stirs the 'old Adam' to tempt and to dare,
+    He thinks Who was tempted and knows what we are;
+    Gentle and meek, murmurs not nor rebels,
+    But serene as in heaven and tranquil dwells:
+    And so the Believer has 'songs in the night,'
+    And so every cloud has a lining of light.
+      Thus, even thus, the captive bird's story
+      Tells how a soul is ripen'd for glory.              G.
+
+
+DAMNO AFFICI SAEPE FIT LUCRUM.
+
+    Damna adsunt multis taciti compendia lucri,
+      Felicique docent plus properare mora.
+    Luxuriem annorum posita sic pelle redemit,
+      Atque sagax serpens in nova saecla subit.
+    Cernis ut ipsa sibi replicato suppetat aevo,
+      Seque iteret multa morte perennis avis?
+    Succrescit generosa sibi, facilesque per ignes
+      Perque suos cineres, per sua fata ferax.
+    Quae sollers jactura sui? quis funeris usus?
+      Flammarumque fides ingeniumque rogi?
+    Siccine fraude subis? pretiosaque funera ludis?
+      Siccine tu mortem, ne moriaris, adis?
+    Felix cui medicae tanta experientia mortis,
+      Cui tam Parcarum est officiosa manus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+GAIN OUT OF LOSS.
+
+    Losses are often source of secret gain,
+    Delays good-speed, and ease the child of pain.
+    The subtle snake, laying aside her fears,
+    Casts off her slough, and heals the waste of years.
+    The phœnix thus her waning pride supplies,
+    And, to be ever-living, often dies;
+    Bold for her good, she makes the fires her friend,
+    And to begin anew, will plot her end.
+    What skilful losing! what wise use of dying!
+    What trust in flames! and what a craft in plying
+    That trick of immolation! Canst thou so
+    Compound with griefs? canst wisely undergo
+    Life's losses, crosses? play with gainful doom?
+    Canst, to be quicken'd, gladly seek the tomb?
+    Thrice-happy he thus touch'd with healing sorrow,
+    For whom night's strife plots but a gracious morrow.  A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Suff'ring is not always loss;
+    Often underneath the cross--
+    Heavy, crushing, wearing, slow,
+    Causing us in dread to go--
+    All unsuspected lieth gain,
+    Like sunshine in vernal rain.
+      Lo, the serpent's mottled skin
+    Cast, new lease of years doth win:
+    Lo, the phœnix in the fire
+    Leaps immortal from its pyre,
+    The mystic plumage mewing,
+    And life by death renewing.
+    What a wise loss thus to lose!--
+    Who will gainsay or abuse?
+    What strange end to fun'ral pile,
+    Thus in Death's gaunt face to smile!
+    Faith still strong within the fire,
+    Faith triumphant o'er its ire.
+      How stands it, fellow-man, with thee?
+    What meaning in this myth dost see?
+    Happy thou, if when thou'rt lying
+    On thy sick-bed slow a-dying,
+    Cometh vision of the Eternal,
+    Cometh strength for the supernal,
+    Cometh triumph o'er the infernal;
+    And thou canst the Last Enemy
+    Calmly meet, serenely die;
+    The hard Sisters life's web snipping,
+    But thy spirit never gripping;
+    Good, not evil, to thee bringing;
+    Hushing not thy upward singing,
+    To the Golden City winging.
+      Even so to die is gain,
+    Like the Harvest's tawnied grain:
+    Suffering is not always loss;
+    The Crown succeeds the Cross.                         G.
+
+
+HUMANAE VITAE DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    O vita, tantum lubricus quidam furor
+    Spoliumque vitae! scilicet longi brevis
+    Erroris hospes! Error ô mortalium!
+    O certus error! qui sub incerto vagum
+    Suspendit aevum, mille per dolos viae                       5
+    Fugacis, et proterva per volumina
+    Fluidi laboris, ebrios lactat gradus;
+    Et irretitos ducit in nihilum dies.
+    O fata! quantum perfidae vitae fugit
+    Umbris quod imputemus atque auris, ibi                     10
+    Et umbra et aura serias partes agunt
+    Miscentque scenam, volvimur ludibrio
+    Procacis aestus, ut per incertum mare
+    Fragilis protervo cymba cum nutat freto;
+    Et ipsa vitae fila, queis nentes Deae                      15
+    Aevi severa texta producunt manu,
+    Haec ipsa nobis implicant vestigia,
+    Retrahunt trahuntque, donec everso gradu
+    Ruina lassos alta deducat pedes.
+    Felix, fugaces quisquis excipiens dies                     20
+    Gressus serenos fixit, insidiis sui
+    Nec servit aevi, vita inoffensis huic
+    Feretur auris, atque clauda rarius
+    Titubabit hora: vortices anni vagi
+    Hic extricabit, sanus assertor sui.                        25
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE.
+
+    O Life, or but some evanescent madness
+    And glittering spoil of life snatch'd with blind gladness!
+    Of endless Error, transitory guest;
+    Sad human Error, which would fain find rest.
+    O certain Error, 'neath uncertain sky
+    Suspending here our frail mortality;
+    Leading us through a thousand devious ways
+    And intricacies of a treacherous maze!
+    Our staggering footsteps how dost thou beguile
+    Through wanton rounds of unavailing toil,
+    And our entangl'd days to nothing bring!
+    O fates, how much of our poor life takes wing,
+    Wasted on winds and shadows! On life's stage
+    Shadows and winds a serious part engage,
+    The scene confusing. On life's billow tost,
+    The sport of changeful tide, we're well-nigh lost,
+    And, like a frail boat on a stormy sea,
+    We waver up and down uncertainly.
+    Nay, e'en the threads spun by the Fates on high,
+    As with stern fingers they divinely ply
+    The web of life, twine round us as we go,
+    And draw us backwards, forwards, to and fro;
+    Till Ruin trips us up, and we are found
+    Helpless and weary, stretched along the ground.
+      Happy the man who, welcoming each day
+    With smiles that answer to its fleeting ray,
+    Pursues with step serene his purpos'd way;
+    The alluring snares peculiar to the age
+    _His_ soul enslave not, nor his mind engage;
+    His life with peaceful tenor glides along,
+    By fav'ring breezes fann'd, and sooth'd with song;
+    Inspir'd by Heaven with soul-sustaining force,
+    Seldom he falls, or falters in his course;
+    But ever, as the eddying years roll round,
+    Bursting through all the perils that abound,
+    A wise assertor of himself is found.              R. WI.
+
+
+IN PYGMALIONA.
+
+              Poenitet artis
+              Pygmaliona suae,
+    Quod felix opus esset,
+    Infelix erat artifex;
+    Sentit vulnera, nec videt ictum.
+    Quis credit? gelido veniunt de marmore flammae:
+    Marmor ingratum nimis
+    Incendit autorem suum.
+    Concepit hic vanos furores,
+    Opus suum miratur atque adorat.
+    Prius creavit, ecce nunc colit manus;
+    Tentantes digitos molliter applicat;
+    Decipit molles caro dura tactus.
+    An virgo vera est, an sit eburnea;
+    Reddat an oscula quae dabantur,
+    Nescit; sed dubitat, sed metuit, munere supplicat,
+    Blanditiasque miscet.
+    Te, miser, poenas dare vult, hos Venus, hos triumphos
+    Capit a te, quod amorem fugis omnem.
+    Cur fugis heu vivos? mortua te necat puella.
+    Non erit innocua haec, quamvis tua fingas manu;
+    Ipsa heu nocens erit nimis, cujus imago nocet.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON PYGMALION.
+
+      Grief for work his hands have done
+      Harroweth Pygmalion;
+      Happy reach of art! yet he
+      The artificer, unhappily,
+    He feels the wounds: what deals the blow?
+    Can it be true? can flames from gelid marble flow?
+
+      Marble, treacherous and to blame
+      To burn your Sculptor with such flame!
+      What madness in his heart is hid?
+    He wonders at, he adores the work he did.
+      First he made, and next his hand
+      With wandering fingers softly tries
+      The mystery to understand.
+      Ah, surely now the hard flesh lies!
+    Is it a living maiden, see!
+      O treacherous blisses!
+    Is it no marble? can it frail flesh be?
+      Does it return his kisses?
+    He knows not, he.
+
+      He doubts, he fears, he prays; what mean
+    All these sweet blandishments between?
+    Venus, wretched Sculptor, wills
+    You should suffer these sad ills;
+    This is her triumph over you,
+      Because at love your lips would curl;
+    Your will not living overthrows yet this dead girl.
+
+    Weep, ah, weep, Pygmalion!
+      Though you shap'd her with your hands,
+    With your chisel, out of stone,
+      Not innocuous here she stands.
+      O image of a maiden!
+    If you so strangely baneful prove,
+      With what despair will you come laden,
+    Coming alive to claim his love!                       A.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION (_more freely_).
+
+    Pygmalion mourns his own success;
+    Was ever such strange wretchedness?
+    His work itself, a work of Art,
+    Perfect in its every part;
+    But himself? Alas, artist he
+    Of his own utmost misery.
+    He feels his wounds, but who shall tell
+    Whence come the drops that downward steal?
+    Flames leap out from the marble, cold
+    As ice itself by storm-wind roll'd:
+    And he, contriver of that fire,
+    Burns self-immolate on his own pyre;
+    Furies of his own genius born
+    Cast him, adoring and forlorn,
+    Into a strange captivity
+    Before his own hands' work; and he
+    Clings to the shapely form, until,
+    In ecstasy of love a-thrill,
+    He burning lips to cold lips sets,
+    And wild with passion her cheek wets;
+    Strains to his breast insensate stone,
+    As 'twere a breathing thing; with moan,
+    With clasp and grasp and tingling touch,
+    As though he ne'er could grip too much;
+    And wilder'd cry of agony,
+    That she respond would; by him lie
+    A virgin pure as drifted snow,
+    Or lilies that i' the meadows blow.
+    Is it ivory? is it stone?
+    Lives it? or is it clay alone?
+    O that to flesh the stone would melt,
+    And show a soul within it dwelt!
+      He looks, he yearns, he sighs, he sobs,
+    Convulsive his whole body throbs;
+    He doubts, he fears, he supplicates
+    With wistful gaze; he on her waits;
+    Gifts lavish he lays at her feet,
+    And, stung to passion, will entreat,
+    As though the image he has made
+    Were thing of life he might persuade--
+    Persuade and woo, and on her stake
+    His future, all. O sad mistake!
+    For thee, Pygmalion, Venus sends
+    These triumphs which thy chisel lends,
+    To punish thee, for that no love
+    Erewhile thy obstinate heart might move.
+      Why flee'st thou the living, say,
+    When this image thee doth slay?
+    Thee doth--ay, slay! Why dost thou stand
+    Entranc'd before the work o' thy hand,
+    None the less hurtful that it is
+    Thine own genius yields the bliss?
+    Venus must thee still deny;
+    The sculptured maid must breathless lie.              G.
+
+
+ARION.
+
+    Squammea vivae
+    Lubrica terga ratis
+    Jam conscendet Arion.
+    Merces tam nova solvitur
+    Navis quam nova scanditur. Illa
+    Aërea est merces, haec est et aquatica navis.
+    Perdidere illum viri
+    Mercede magna, servat hic
+    Mercede nulla piscis: et sic
+    Salute plus ruina constat illi;
+    Minoris et servatur hinc quam perditur.
+    Hic dum findit aquas, findit hic aëra:
+    Cursibus, piscis; digitis, Arion:
+    Et sternit undas, sternit et aëra:
+    Carminis hoc placido Tridente
+    Abjurat sua jam murmura, ventusque modestior
+    Auribus ora mutat:
+    Ora dediscit, minimos et metuit susurros;
+    Sonus alter restat, ut fit sonus illis
+    Aura strepens circum muta sit lateri adjacente penna,
+    Ambit et ora viri, nec vela ventis hic egent;
+    Attendit hanc ventus ratem: non trahit, at trahitur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ARION.
+
+    Never since ship was set a-float
+    Have men seen so strange a boat:
+    Alive it is from deck to keel,
+    Having the gray gleam of steel;
+    Slippery as wave-wash'd wreck,
+    Or as a war-ship's bloody deck.
+    A Dolphin, lo, its huge back bending,
+    Safety to Arion lending
+    From the sailors of Sicily,
+    Covetous of his golden monie;
+    Money that as prize he had won
+    Before all Singers aneath the sun;
+    Playing and singing so famouslie,
+    Singing and playing so wondrouslie,
+    That there went up from ev'ry throat
+    The verdict, 'for Arion I vote:'
+    Vote the prize; and gifts as well,
+    Crowns of gold and of asphodel;
+    Lyres all a-glow with gems,
+    Robes bejewell'd to their hems;
+    A thousand golden pieces and one
+    For the gifted son of Poseidon:
+    And, hark, as 'twere the bellowing thunder,
+    In clang'rous shouts men tell their wonder.
+      Arion now homeward takes his way
+    In a fair ship steer'd for Corinth Bay;
+    Proud of his prizes, proud of his skill,
+    Proud that soon Periander will
+    Welcome him fondly, and call him friend,
+    With words such as no money can send.
+      Alas and alas, such crime to tell!
+    The ship-captain and sailors fell
+    Covet his gold, and have it must,
+    Though Arion they murder by blow or thrust.
+      But Apollo at midnight hour
+    Sendeth a dream in mystic power;
+    It showeth the men, it showeth their crime.
+    Arion awakes with the morning's chime;
+    Awakes, and planneth how to escape.
+    Vain, vain all; on him they gape,
+    Thirsting alike for gold and life,
+    Murder and covetousness at strife.
+      'Suffer me, then,' Arion said,
+    'That I may play as I have play'd;
+    Here is my poor Lyre, and, ere I die,
+    Let me prove its minstrelsy.'
+      He has donn'd him now in gay attire,
+    Festal robes; in his hand his Lyre.
+    List ye, list ye; above, below,
+    Sounds such as only the angels know;
+    Sounds that are born of rapture and bliss,
+    Of the throbbing heart and the burning love-kiss.
+    Now it is soft, pathetic, low,
+    Then 'gins to change to cry of woe;
+    Now it comes rushing as if the thunder
+    Came booming from the deep earth under;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing,
+    And Arion's hand had so cunning a spell
+    As should win all heaven--ay and hell.
+    O, came there never such melodie
+    From mortal earth or mortal sky.
+    He mounted to the good ship's prow,
+    And mingling with his song a vow
+    To the gods, he himself threw
+    Out 'mid the waves from that damnable crew.
+      Up through the waves the Dolphins bound,
+    A hundred bended backs are found,
+    Each one more eager than the rest
+    To upbear the sweet Player on Ocean's breast.
+      Arion ascends; and, lo, he stands,
+    His Lyre unwet within his hands:
+    Onward and onward careering they go;
+    O soft and true the notes that flow!
+    Rising, falling, swelling, dying,
+    Near and nearer, far-off flying;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing.
+      New is the ship, as new the freight;
+    The Dolphin feels never the weight;
+    New is the ship, and new the fare,
+    That of the water, this of the air:
+    The sailors in their greed him lost,
+    The Dolphin bears him withouten cost.
+      Away and away with a shim'ring track
+    Arion goes on the Dolphin's back;
+    Away and away, still softly playing,
+    Each string his lightest touch obeying.
+    Under the spell the Sea grows calm,
+    Listing attent his witching psalm;
+    Under the spell the air grows mild,
+    Breathing soft as sleeping child.
+        But who may seek all the tale to tell?
+        It is a tale unspeakable.
+      Onward and onward careering they go,
+    Silence above and silence below:
+    The Storm-gale shuts its mouth and lists,
+    The Wind folds its pinions and desists,
+    Following, not blowing, drawing not, but drawn,
+    From early ev'ning to breaking dawn.
+    Tenarus at last Arion beheld;
+    Tenarus, his own dear home that held;
+    And as together they swiftly come,
+    He claps hands loud and thinks of home.
+      The Dolphin seeks a quiet cove;
+    The Dolphin arching its back above
+    The azure waters, leaves him there,
+    A-list'ning still his Lyre to hear.
+      Homeward to Corinth Arion proceeds:
+    Periander a tale of suff'ring reads
+    In the thinnèd cheek and the dreamy eye,
+    In the tremulous words and the laden sigh.
+      The story is told. O story of wrong!
+    The ship returns; and it is not long
+    Ere captain and crew, at bar arraign'd,
+    Must tell where Arion they detain'd.
+    'He tarries,' quoth they, 'in Sicily,
+    Winning all men by his minstrelsie.'
+      Lies were proven in their throat.
+    Periander his hands together smote,
+    Swearing a solemn oath that they--
+    One, all--should drown'd be in the Bay.
+      Tied hand and foot, pallor'd and grim,
+    'Tis done as they would ha' done to him.
+    A plunge as of a plunging stone,
+    A few bubbles--Vengeance is done!                  G.
+
+
+
+
+IN
+
+APOLLINEA DEPEREUNTEM DAPHNEN.
+
+
+    Stulte Cupido,
+    Quid tua flamma parat?
+    Annos sole sub ipso
+    Accensae pereunt faces?
+    Sed fax nostra potentior istis,
+    Flammas inflammare potest, ipse uritur ignis,
+    Ecce flammarum potens
+    Majore sub flamma gemit.
+    Eheu, quid hoc est? En Apollo
+    Lyra tacente, ni sonet dolores,
+    Coma jacente squallet aeternus decor
+    Oris, en, dominae quo placeat magis,
+    Languido tardum jubar igne promit.
+    Pallente vultu territat aethera.
+    Mundi oculus lacrymis senescit,
+    Et solvit pelago debita, quodque hauserat ignibus,
+    His lacrymis rependit.
+    Noctis adventu properans se latebris recondit,
+    Et opacas tenebrarum colit umbras,
+    Namque suos odit damnans radios nocensque lumen.
+    An lateat tenebris dubitat, an educat diem,
+    Hinc suadet hoc luctus furens, inde repugnat amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ON APOLLO PINING FOR DAPHNE.
+
+    Cupid, foolishest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets!
+    Surely before the flashing Sun
+    Torches pale to extinction?
+    But our torch is mightier far;
+    It able is 'gainst fire to war,
+    Yea, fire itself to burn and char.
+      The igni-potent in amaze,
+    Lo, groans, his huge heart all a-blaze
+    With keener flame than his own rays.
+      Ah, what is this? Apollo burns,
+    And as distraught in anguish mourns.
+    Lo, see his lyre mute and unstrung,
+    Or only grief-notes from it wrung:
+    Lo, his golden locks neglected,
+    And his radiant face dejected;
+    Beauty eterne distain'd, rejected.
+      The great Sun-god is in love,
+    And seeks in vain his Fair to move:
+    Hence his weird pallor, and those cries
+    That the sky shudd'ring terrifies;
+    Hence the world's day-bringing eye
+    Tears dim, such as in mortals' lie;
+    Hence those showers often falling,
+    The Sea her erst gifts recalling;
+    Hence welcome the approaching night,
+    That mourning he may veil his light--
+    Veil his light, and in shadows deep
+    His great anguish in secret weep.
+    Nor, when vermeil-drapèd Morning,
+    With her smile the East adorning,
+    Touches with her rosy finger
+    Eyes that 'neath their lashes linger,
+    Seeking to wake the God of Day,
+    That round the world his beams may play,
+    Does he haste at all to rise
+    To his 'fulgent throne i' the skies;
+    But rather would abide within
+    The clouds whereon he rests his chin;
+    Hating his own beams' splendour now,
+    Since Daphne scorns to list his vow:
+    Thus he lingers, and still weighs
+    Whether Day or Night to raise.
+    Raging grief he cannot smother,
+    Says the one; and Love the other.
+    Cupid, tricksiest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets![99]             G.
+
+
+
+
+AENEAS PATRIS SUI BAJULUS.
+
+
+    Moenia Trojae, hostis et ignis,
+    Hostes inter et ignes, Aeneas spolium pium
+    Atque humeris venerabile pondus
+    Excipit, et 'Saevae nunc ô nunc parcite flammae;
+    Parcite haud, clamat, mihi;
+    Sacrae favete sarcinae:
+    Quod si negatis, nec licebit
+    Vitam juvare, sed juvabo funus
+    Rogusque fiam patris ac bustum mei.'
+    His dictis, acies pervolat hostium,
+    Gestit, et partis veluti trophaeis
+    Ducit triumphos. Nam furor hostium
+    Jam stupet, et pietate tanta
+    Victor vincitur; imo et moritur
+    Troja libenter, funeribusque gaudet,
+    Ac faces admittit ovans, ne lateat tenebras
+    Per opacas opus ingens pietatis.
+    Debita sic patri solvis tua, sic pari rependis
+    Officio. Dederat vitam tibi, tu reddis huic:
+    Felix, parentis qui pater diceris esse tui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ÆNEAS THE BEARER OF HIS FATHER.
+
+    The walls of Troy--the walls of Troy!
+    'Tis an old tale you will enjoy:
+    A foe is there amid the fire,
+    A foe 'twixt foemen in their ire.
+      Aeneas takes a pious load
+    With upward prayer to his god;
+    E'en his old father, whose gray head
+    Lay 'mong the dying and the dead:
+    O venerable spoil in truth,
+    Fit from the demons to fetch ruth.
+      Fierce roar the flames, and fiercer still
+    Rages the fight on plain and hill.
+    'Spare the old man,' Aeneas cries;
+    'Spare the white hairs; or if he dies,
+    Be mine the privilege of his pyre;
+    Be mine with him at once t'expire.'
+      Scarcely are the true words spoken,
+    When through line of battle broken
+    Swift he passes; and this brave son
+    His father bears in triumph on;
+    Reck'ning that he a trophy has
+    That the conquerors' doth surpass.
+      He safely goes: for, lo, amaz'd,
+    The foe upon them wistful gaz'd:
+    The conquerors the conquer'd are
+    By filial love so strong, so fair.
+    The flames Troy willingly receives,
+    Jubilant that the old man lives;
+    Welcomes the torches, that the night
+    May not conceal this deed of light.
+      All praise to thee, high-hearted son!
+    Thou an undying name hast won:
+    The debt of love thou hast repaid
+    Unto thy father, who is made
+    Thy debtor now; for life he gave,
+    And thou in turn his life dost save.
+    Happy the son whom thus we see
+    Father of his own sire to be.                  G.
+
+
+PHOENICIS GENETHLIACON ET EPICEDION.
+
+    Phœnix alumna mortis,
+    Quam mira tua puerpera!
+    Tu scandis haud nidos, sed ignes.
+    Non parere sed perire ceu parata:
+    Mors obstetrix; atque ipsa tu teipsam paris,
+          Tu tuique mater ipsa es,
+          Tu tuique filia.
+    Tu sic odora messis
+    Surgis tuorum funerum;
+    Tibique per tuam ruinam
+    Reparata, te succedis ipsa. Mors ô
+    Faecunda; sancta ô lucra pretiosae necis!
+          Vive, monstrum dulce, vive,
+          Tu tibique suffice.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE GENERATION AND REGENERATION OF THE PHŒNIX.
+
+    Phœnix, nursling of Death,
+      How wondrous is thy birth!
+    Thou gainest not thy breath
+      I' nest, like birds of Earth:
+    'Mid fire all flaming hot
+    Thou strangely art begot;
+    The leaping flames thee cherish
+    When thou seem'st to perish.
+      Lo, Death thy midwife is;
+      Lo, thyself thou bearest.
+    O tell me how is this,
+      That mystery thou preparest?
+    Thou mother of thyself!
+    Thou daughter of thyself!
+    When thy 'pointed hour is done,
+      Thou an od'rous nest entwinest;
+    And, as for thy destruction,
+    Thou 'midst its fires reclinest.
+      Most surely thou'rt consum'd;
+      Most surely thou'rt relum'd.
+    O fruitful Death!
+    O gainful Death!
+    Live then, self-containèd bird;
+      Most pleasing wonder.
+    The old legend is absurd;
+      But truth lies under.                               G.
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM.
+
+    Quisquis nectareo serenus aevo
+    Et spe lucidus aureae juventae,
+    Nescis purpureos abire soles,
+    Nescis vincula ferreamque noctem
+    Imi careris horridumque Ditem,                              5
+    Et spectas tremulam procul senectam,
+    Hinc disces lacrymas, et huc repones.
+    Hic, ô scilicet hic brevi sub antro
+    Spes et gaudia mille, mille, longam,
+    Heu longam nimis! induere noctem.                          10
+    Flammantem nitidae facem juventae
+    Submersit Stygiae paludis unda.
+    Ergo, si lacrymas neges doloris,
+    Huc certo lacrymas feres timoris.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    I correct, in l. 6, 'tremulam' for 'tremulum;' l. 7, 'disces' for
+    'discas,' and 'huc' for 'hinc.' G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH.
+
+    Ye that still, serene in peace,
+    Lying in the lap of ease,
+    Believe the hopes of golden youth,
+    And have not heard the bitter truth,
+    How shining suns fade at a breath;
+    Ye, with little dread of death,
+    Or fear of chains and iron night
+    Of man's last prison, or the sight
+    Of gloomy Dis; that think to keep
+    Old age away,--look here, and weep.
+    Here, to this one narrow room,
+    A thousand joys and hopes have come;
+    Here bright minutes many a one
+    Have a lasting night put on:
+    Youth's torch, that flash'd such light about,
+    Is in the Stygian wave put out.
+    Then, if you grudge poor grief a tear,
+    Heave, at least, a sigh for fear.                     A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Whoe'er ye be, upgazing here,
+    Calm, unruffl'd, without tear;
+    Joyous in your golden prime,
+    And unwitting of the time
+    When shall pale Life's glowing sun,
+    And the web of years be spun;
+    Thinking not o' the iron night
+    Where grim Pluto reigns in might;
+    Thinking not of the nether world,
+          With its clanking chains;
+    Whither damnèd souls are hurl'd
+          When the Judge arraigns;
+        Seeing old age far away;
+    Making Life one holiday;--
+    Here perceive that Grief shall yet
+    Your ruddy cheeks with sorrow wet;
+    Here musing upon this poor stone,
+    Ye may learn prevention.
+    This Earth, what is it but a home
+    Fugitive as sea-wave's foam?
+    Mark where breaks the whit'n'd wave
+    'Mid the cliffs--an archèd cave;
+    Light and shadow play within,
+          Flick'ring o'er its walls;
+    In the gloom--with Hell akin--
+          A dull stream slowly crawls.
+        E'en such is Life, how bright soe'er,
+    Hope and Joy lure to Despair;
+    And Life's stream goes plunging down
+    Into dark drear Acheron;
+    Youth's bright torch extinguish'd quite;
+    Golden Day exchang'd for Night:
+    To long night of changeless woe
+    Swift the Christless souls shall go.
+    Shun not therefore in thy prime,
+    Shun not whilst thou art in Time,
+    Tears of penitence over sin;
+      Or bitterly shalt thou rue,
+    When Death shall fling his javelin,
+      And Hell's prison thee immew.
+    Bethink thee in thy golden prime;
+    Bethink thee whilst thou'rt yet in Time.              G.
+
+
+ELEGIA.[100]
+
+    Ite, meae lacrymae, nec enim moror, ite; sed oro
+      Tantum ne miserae claudite vocis iter.
+    O liceat querulos verbis animare dolores,
+      Et saltem 'Ah periit!' dicere noster amor.
+    Ecce negant tamen; ecce negant, lacrymaeque rebelles
+      Pergunt indomita praecipitantque via.
+    Visne, ô care, igitur te nostra silentia dicant?
+      Vis fleat assiduo murmure mutus amor?
+    Flebit, et urna suos semper bibet humida rores,
+      Et fidas semper semper habebit aquas.
+    Interea, quicunque estis, ne credite mirum
+      Si verae lacrymae non didicere loqui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ELEGY.
+
+    Flow, flow, my tears; I stay you not; but pray
+    To my unhappy voice close not the way.
+    My plaintive griefs with words, O let me move;
+    To say, 'Alas, he died!' allow my love.
+    Lo, they say, no--the rebel tears say, no!
+    And with unconquer'd headlong torrent flow.
+    Wouldst thou, O dear one, that our silence speak?
+    Mute love with ceaseless sob moisten our cheek?
+    It shall; and still thine urn drink its own dews,
+    And never its own faithful waters lose.
+    Meanwhile let no one think a wonder wrought,
+    If real tears to speak could not be taught.       R. WI.
+
+
+THESAURUS MALORUM FOEMINA.
+
+    Quis deus, ô quis erat, qui te, mala foemina, finxit?
+      Proh, crimen superum, noxa pudenda deum!
+    Quae divum manus est adeo non dextera mundo?
+      In nostras clades ingeniosa manus:
+    Parcite; peccavi: nec enim pia numina possunt
+      Tam crudele semel vel voluisse nefas.
+    Vestrum opus est pietas; opus est concordia vestrum;
+      Vos equidem tales haud reor artifices.
+    Heus, inferna cohors, foetus cognoscite vestros.
+      Num pudet hanc vestrum vincere posse scelus?
+    Plaudite Tartarei proceres Erebique potentes,
+      Nae mirum est tantum vos potuisse malum;
+    Jam vestras laudate manus. Si forte tacetis,
+      Artificum laudes grande loquetur opus.
+    Quam bene vos omnes speculo contemplor in isto?
+      Pectus in angustum cogitur omne malum.
+    Quin dormi, Pluto; rabidas compesce sorores;
+      Jam non poscit opem nostra ruina tuam.
+    Haec satis in nostros fabricata est machina muros,
+      Mortales furias Tartara nostra dabunt.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WOMAN A TREASURY OF EVILS.
+
+    What god? or who was it? I ask, contriv'd
+    Thee, O Woman, evil Woman? who conniv'd
+    Together--who--in this supremest crime
+    Of the divinities, before old Time
+    Was born? Alas, most dire calamity
+    As e'er has come upon humanity!
+    Whence was the hand, ye Powers, so evil-skill'd
+    In sin and mischief, so perversely will'd
+    To curse this world of ours? But hold! I blunder;
+    I must to the dark regions lying under,
+    Ev'n Hell, descend. Not Thee, O God above,
+    For Thou art pitiful, for Thou art Love:
+    Not one of all the gracious Pow'rs supernal;
+    But ye, O Furies, from the pit infernal,
+    Ye, ye the work devis'd, matur'd, achiev'd,
+    And brought to Man; to Man--frail Man! deceiv'd:
+    Ho, hosts of evil! ho! on you I call:
+    Behold your offspring diabolical.
+    Does it a blush raise?--Spirits of evil, speak!--
+    Such as expos'd crime brings to mortal cheek?
+    Lo, these your works yourselves surpass, I wis;
+    Clap hands, ye potentates of the Abyss.
+    Rulers of Erebus, is it not a wonder,
+    Worthy of Hell's most resonant swift thunder,
+    That ye such thing contrivèd have as Heaven
+    Never cast out, nor e'er to Hell was driven?
+    Take ye your praise, your praise; this work o' your hands
+    Absolute in mischief 'bove compar'son stands.
+    Or if ye silent be, your work will speak
+    Your praise. Ha, ha! what mean ye that ye shriek
+    Thus as I meditate with pulse of fear
+    Upon this monster, Woman? Ah, 'tis clear;
+    I see your guile and skill. The gods above
+    Would have all ills within one scant breast move!
+    To bed, Pluto, king of the nether world;
+    Sleep on in peace; be every banner furl'd;
+    Ye fires, go out; Man's ruin is complete;
+    No need of you--in Woman all woes meet:
+    In her, ye devils, ye have so contriv'd
+    That Tempter, who--better than had ye div'd
+    To furthest Tartarus--Man's protecting wall
+    Shall breach. Earth's fury--Woman--passes all!        G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+II.
+
+MISCELLANEOUS AND COMMEMORATIVE.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    Once more the Sancroft MS. 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.
+
+
+PULCHRA NON DIUTURNA.
+
+
+    EHEU, ver breve et invidum!
+    Eheu, floriduli dies!
+    Ergo curritis improba,
+    Et quae nunc face fulgurat,
+    Dulcis forma tenacibus
+    Immiscebitur infimae:
+    Heu, noctis nebulis; amor
+    Fallax, umbraque somnii.
+    Quin incumbitis; invida
+    Sic dictat colus, et rota
+    Cani temporis incito
+    Currens orbe volubilis.
+    O deprendite lubricos
+    Annos; et liquidum jubar
+    Verni sideris, ac novi
+    Floris fulgura, mollibus
+    Quae debetis amoribus,
+    Non impendite luridos
+    In manes avidum et Chaos.
+      Quanquam sidereis genis,
+    Quae semper nive sobria
+    Sinceris spatiis vigent,
+    Floris germine simplicis,
+    Flagrant ingenuae rosae:
+      Quanquam perpetua fide
+    Illic mille Cupidines,
+    Centum mille Cupidines,
+    Pastos nectarea dape,
+    Blandis sumptibus educas;
+    Istis qui spatiis vagi,
+    Plenis lusibus ebrii,
+    Udo rore beatuli,
+    Uno plus decies die
+    Istis ex oculis tuis,
+    Istis ex oculis suas
+    Sopitas animant faces,
+    Et languentia recreant
+    Succo spicula melleo:
+    Tum flammis agiles novis
+    Lasciva volitant face,
+    Tum plenis tumidi minis,
+    Tum vel sidera territant,
+    Et coelum et fragilem Jovem:
+      Quanquam fronte sub ardua
+    Majestas gravis excubans,
+    Dulces fortiter improbis
+    Leges dictat amoribus:
+      Quanquam tota, per omnia,
+    Coelum machina praeferat,
+    Tanquam pagina multiplex
+    Vivo scripta volumine,
+    Terris indigitans polos.
+    Et compendia siderum:
+      Istis heu tamen heu genis,
+    Istis purpureis genis,
+    Oris sidere florido,
+    Regno frontis amabili;
+    Mors heu crastina forsitan
+    Crudeles faciet notas,
+    Naturaeque superbiam
+    Damnabit tumuli specu.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE BEAUTIFUL NOT LASTING.
+
+    Alas, how brief and grudg'd our Spring!
+    Ah, flow'ry days how vanishing!
+    E'en so ye hasten on and on
+    With an unceasing motion.
+    And thou, sweet Beauty, brightly flashing,
+    But all too soon thy fairness dashing,
+    To depths of lowest Night must go:
+    Ah, losing there thy hasty glow;
+    Dark'ning mists around thee clinging,
+    And thy loveliness swift-winging:
+    A love that brightens to deceive;
+    A dream-shadow, fugitive.
+      Ye therefore o'er whom Life's young Day
+    Shineth still with golden ray,
+    Seize--Fate's harsh distaff makes appeal,
+    And hoary Time's quick-whirling wheel,
+    As round and round the circle spins,
+    And to furthest distance wins--
+    Seize ye the gliding seasons fleet,
+    And dews of vernal Phosphor sweet,
+    And new-blown flowers' brightness meet.
+    O, what to tender loves ye owe,
+    Waste not on Chaos dark below,
+    Where pallid ghosts dim-gleaming go.
+      Though, Beauty, on thy starry cheeks,
+    Where snow's white pureness ever breaks,
+    And where gazing, we see born
+    Roses fresh without all thorn,
+    Buds intertwining undefil'd,
+    Spotless as e'er a grace-born child:
+      Though thou with everlasting faith
+    Fosterest with thy nectar'd breath
+    Myriad Loves, and dost them feed
+    With honey'd feast of heavenly mead
+    In gentle draughts; and they roam round
+    In thy realms, and aye are found
+    Surfeiting themselves with play
+    In one amorous holiday;
+    Happy in the drenching dew,
+    And seeking ever to renew
+    Their torch-flames at thy fair eyes,
+    And whet blunt arrows' ecstasies
+    With sweet juice that in honey lies:
+    And so, with their flame relumèd,
+    Deftly hover, airy-plumèd;
+    Waving higher still and higher
+    Their torches that raise soft desire;
+    Menacing the very stars,
+    Yea the old heavens i' their wars:
+      Although beneath thy high-arch'd brow
+    Sits Majesty, nor doth allow
+    To wanton loves such liberty
+    As mocks the Ruler of the sky;
+    But in their wild career gives pause,
+    Imposing on them Love's sweet laws:
+      Though thy whole frame in every part
+    Sets forth the sky as in a chart;
+    Though thy fair face in every look
+    Shows heaven in page of living book;
+    To Earth reveals the starry skies
+    In the bright glances of thine eyes:
+      Yet, alas, on these fair cheeks,
+    Where the rose all-blushing speaks,
+    There shall come the snow's sad whiteness,
+    And the red, heart-breaking brightness:
+    On the 'human face divine,'
+    That as a star doth radiant shine,
+    There shall come the deep'ning shadow,
+    As clouds across the dappl'd meadow.
+    On the high state of the brow
+    To-morrow Death may make his blow;
+    And all of Nature's bravery
+    Gone, in the Grave's cavern lie.
+    Alas, the fairest is the fleetest!
+    Alas, how short-liv'd is the sweetest!
+    Alas, the richest is the rarest!
+    Alas, that Death doth spoil the fairest!              G.
+
+
+HYMNUS VENERI,
+
+DUM IN ILLIUS TUTELAM TRANSEUNT VIRGINES.
+
+    Tu tuis adsis, Venus alme, sacris:
+    Rideas blandum, Venus, et benignum,
+    Quale cum Martem premis, aureoque
+                Frangis ocello.
+    Rideas ô tum neque flamma Phoebum,
+    Nec juvent Phœben sua tela; gestat
+    Te satis contra tuus ille tantum
+                Tela Cupido.
+    Saepe in ipsius pharetra Dianae
+    Hic suas ridens posuit sagittas,
+    Ausus et flammae Dominum magistris
+                Urere flammis.
+    Virginum te orat chorus--esse longum
+    Virgines nollent--modo servientum
+    Tot columbarum tibi passerumque augere catervam.
+    Dedicant quicquid labra vel rosarum
+    Colla, vel servant tibi liliorum;
+    Dedicant totum tibi ver genarum,
+                Ver oculorum.
+    Hinc tuo sumas licet arma nato,
+    Seu novas his ex oculis sagittas;
+    Seu faces flamma velit acriori
+                Flave comatas.
+    Sume, et ô discant quid amica, quid nox,
+    Quid bene et blande vigilata nox sit;
+    Quid sibi dulcis furor, et protervus
+                Poscat amator.
+    Sume per quae tot tibi corda flagrant,
+    Per quod arcanum tua cestus halat,
+    Per tuus quicquid tibi dixit olim aut
+                Fecit Adonis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A HYMN TO VENUS,
+
+WHILE THE VIRGINS PASS UNDER HER PROTECTION.
+
+    Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,
+    Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;
+    Smile, Venus, with the smile that charms
+    When Mars enfolds thee in his arms,
+    O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,
+    Renownèd from the ages olden.
+    Smile; then Phœbus' flame shall fail,
+    Nor Phœbe her own darts avail.
+    Thy Cupid only against thee
+    Wields successful weaponry.
+    Oft and oft the laughing Boy
+    In the wildness of his joy
+    Has slipt into Diana's quiver
+    His keen arrows, that a shiver
+    Pleasant-painful send through all,
+    When he, trickster, doth enthral.
+    Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of Fire
+    With flames more burning, in his ire.
+      The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,
+    Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;
+    Were it but to offer here,
+    In the flock that hovers near,
+    More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:
+    To their prayer there's no denying.
+      Lo, they dedicate in posies
+    All their lips supply of roses;
+    All their necks, of lilies, white
+    As the dewy stainless light;
+    Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,
+    And that which from their eyes doth break.
+      Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest take
+    For thy wanton Boy to make
+    Arrows from their fire-darting eyes,
+    Or torches flame-tipp'd that surprise
+    With Love's delicious agonies.
+      Take them, and see thou lett'st them know
+    What means a 'mistress;' and then show
+    What the Night all-wakeful is
+    In the rapture of its bliss;
+    What the bold lover shall demand
+    When all charms he doth command.
+      Take them: by all the hearts that burn,
+    And passionate unto thee turn!
+    By all the mysteries that are breath'd,
+    Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!
+    By all to thee Adonis e'er
+    Or said or did, when he would swear,
+    Ne'er i' the world was one so fair!                  G.
+
+
+VERIS DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    Tempus adest, placidis quo sol novus auctior horis
+    Purpureos mulcere dies, et sidere verno
+    Floridus, augusto solet ire per aethera vultu,
+    Naturae communis amor; spes aurea mundi;
+    Virgineum decus, et dulcis lascivia rerum,
+    Ver tenerum, ver molle subit; jam pulchrior annus
+    Pube nova, roseaeque recens in flore juventae
+    Felici fragrat gremio, et laxatur odora
+    Prole parens; per aquas, perque arva, per omnia late
+    Ipse suas miratur opes, miratur honores.
+    Jam Zephyro resoluta suo tumet ebria tellus,
+    Et crebro bibit imbre Jovem, sub frondibus altis
+    Flora sedens, audit, felix! quo murmure lapsis
+    Fons patrius minitetur aquis, quae vertice crispo
+    Respiciunt tantum, et strepero procul agmine pergunt.
+    Audit, et arboreis siquid gemebunda recurrens
+    Garriat aura comis, audit, quibus ipsa susurris
+    Annuit, et facili cervice remurmurat arbor.
+    Quin audit querulas, audit quodcunque per umbras
+    Flebilibus Philomela modis miserabile narrat.
+    Tum quoque praecipue blandis Cytherea per orbem
+    Spargitur imperiis; molles tum major habenas
+    Incutit increpitans, cestus magis ignea rores
+    Ingeminat, tumidosque sinus flagrantior ambit;
+    Nympharum incedit late, Charitumque corona
+    Amplior, et plures curru jam nectit olores:
+    Quin ipsos quoque tum campis emittit apricis
+    Laeta parens gremioque omnes effundit Amores.        _Venus_
+    Mille ruunt equites blandi, peditumque protervae
+    Mille ruunt acies: levium pars terga ferarum
+    Insiliunt, gaudentque suis stimulare sagittis;
+    Pars optans gemino multum properare volatu
+    Aërios conscendit equos; hic passere blando
+    Subsiliens leve ludit iter; micat huc, micat illuc
+    Hospitio levis incerto, et vagus omnibus umbris:
+    Verum alter gravidis insurgens major habenis
+    Maternas molitur aves: illi improbus acrem
+    Versat apem similis, seseque agnoscit in illo.
+    Et brevibus miscere vias ac frangere gyris:
+    Pars leviter per prata vagi sua lilia dignis
+    Contendunt sociare rosis; tum floreus ordo
+    Consilio fragrante venit; lascivit in omni
+    Germine laeta manus; nitidis nova gloria pennis
+    Additur; illustri gremio sedet aurea messis;
+    Gaudet odoratas coma blandior ire sub umbras.
+    Excutiunt solitas, immitia tela, sagittas,
+    Ridentesque aliis pharetrae spectantur in armis.
+    Flore manus, et flore sinus, flore omnia lucent.
+    Undique jam flos est. Vitreas hic pronus ad undas
+    Ingenium illudentis aquae, fluitantiaque ora,
+    Et vaga miratur tremulae mendacia formae.
+    Inde suos probat explorans, et judice nympha
+    Informat radios, ne non satis igne protervo
+    Ora tremant, agilesque docet nova fulgura vultus,
+    Atque suo vibrare jubet petulantius astro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.
+
+    The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,
+    The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,
+    Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,
+    And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,
+    To climb with face august the heavenly way;
+    All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,
+    To which for garlands virgins are beholden.
+    With a glad plenty of all living things
+    Sweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.
+    The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,
+    And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,
+    Delicious odours pours from happy breast,
+    Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:
+    O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,
+    At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.
+    By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unbound
+    Drinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;
+    While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,
+    Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,
+    A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,
+    Which with curl'd head--alas, unduteous daughters--
+    Only look back, and then a garrulous band
+    Pursue their laughing way o'er all the land;
+    Lists how the sighing, oft-returning air
+    Soft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;
+    With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,
+    Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;
+    Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shade
+    Sad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.
+      Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,
+    And calls the world to worship at her feet;
+    Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,
+    Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;
+    More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,
+    And her warm swelling bosom girds around;
+    More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,
+    She marches forth, and to her chariot-traces
+    She yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,
+    Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,
+    From her maternal bosom see her pour;
+    A thousand horsemen sweet career around,
+    Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;
+    Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,
+    And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;
+    Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,
+    And so ascend each one an airy steed;
+    One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;
+    Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,
+    In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,
+    Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.
+    One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,
+    His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.
+    One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,
+    Only another self in him to see;
+    In tiny circles they awhile revolve,
+    But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.
+    Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,
+    Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.
+    Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,
+    Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.
+    New glory on their shining pinions rests,
+    A golden harvest settles on their breasts;
+    With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,
+    Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,
+    While other arms their smiling quivers show.
+    Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,
+    On every side appears a flowery sheen.
+    One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,
+    Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,
+    The liquid likeness of his wavering face,
+    And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.
+    Thence, his own rays examining, he tries
+    And fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,
+    That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;
+    His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,
+    With rays more wanton, bickering like a star.     R. WI.
+
+
+PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.
+
+    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:
+
+
+    EN
+    PRISCIANUS
+    VERBERANS
+    ET
+    VAPULANS.
+
+    Jam publicato verberans aures stylo
+    Qua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.
+
+
+    Londini
+
+    Excudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensis
+    Roberti Mulbourne ad insigne
+    Canis venatici in coemeterio Paulino.   1632.
+
+    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:
+
+    Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101] arvis
+    Praeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adepta
+    Villa[102] antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.
+
+    He describes the school:
+
+    Vicinae senior Carbonius[3] incola villae,
+    'Lingua vernacula idem quod ἀνθράκανδρος,
+
+    sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20_s._ a year:
+
+    De stipe[103] consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.
+
+    He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves
+    boys from the gallows:
+
+                        Iste caballus
+    Non in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinam         _the Trojan_
+    Sed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:
+    A triplici ligno[104] lignum hoc penate tuetur
+    Praecipitem aetatem.
+
+    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 horse, which, by poetical
+    license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty
+    cuts, and receives four:
+
+    Quattuor[105] inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,
+    Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.
+
+    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:
+
+    Vult sibi ut absolvens[106] accepti latio detur
+    Consignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.
+
+    Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:
+
+                    ..... bona Carbonissa
+    Inque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustro
+    Digna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107] cathedra,
+    Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.
+
+    They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the
+    marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)
+
+    Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarum
+    Qui populo Placita ad Communia[108] panditur, exit
+    Schedula quod vulgo[109] Regis Breve dicitur: illo
+    Mox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondet
+    In responsurum praescripto tempore: tempus
+    Cunctarum[110] lux est animarum crastini. Verum
+    Actor quis?[111] Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annos
+    Nondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?
+    Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristes
+    Et tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,
+    Quod[112] Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armis
+    Insultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevo
+    Verberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericli
+    De pueri vita ut desperaretur.
+
+    The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first
+    law-suit:
+
+                        Ecce
+    Nisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:
+
+    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:
+
+    LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.
+
+    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:
+
+          Ad κοπροχρυσοῦντα
+    Suavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:
+        Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.
+
+    In black-letter, as follows:
+
+    Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:
+    Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.
+
+    T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.
+
+    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. G.
+
+    Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?
+      Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?
+    Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.
+      Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.
+    Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.
+      Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.
+    Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballum
+      Quaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?
+    Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?
+      Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?
+    His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?
+      Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?
+    Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?
+      Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?
+    Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;
+      Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.
+    O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!
+      Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?
+    Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.
+      Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.
+    Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:
+      Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.
+    Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,
+      Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.
+    Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,
+      Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!
+    At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iram
+      Mille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.
+    Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:
+      Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.
+    O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,
+      Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!
+    Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.
+      Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.
+    Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballi
+      Exercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.
+    Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridet
+      Turpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.
+    Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,
+      O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,
+    At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?
+      Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!
+    Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?
+      Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.[113]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.
+
+    What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?
+    What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?
+    Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,
+    Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.
+    Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;
+    The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.
+    Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?
+    Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!
+    In such adornment shall he brightly shine?
+    His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?
+    His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?
+    O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?
+    In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,
+    So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?
+    Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,
+    Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.
+    Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!
+    O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?
+    Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,
+    Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:
+    And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;
+    Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.
+    Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,
+    Again he bore thee--in a better way!
+    Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,
+    Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.
+    His mother furious raves and wildly splutters
+    A thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.
+    Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;
+    Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.
+    O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,
+    Such words as in no law-court ever rung.
+    Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:
+    Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.
+    Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hide
+    By wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.
+    While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,
+    Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.
+    Whatever judge such nasty action tries,
+    See that he blow his nose well, I advise.
+    But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,
+    With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?
+    That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?--
+    'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee!  R. WI.
+
+
+AD LIBRUM
+
+SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR 'PRISCIANUS
+VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    Sordes ô tibi gratulamur istas,
+    O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;
+    O Musa, ô tibi candidas, suoque
+    Jam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas:
+    Sacro carmine quippe delinitae
+    Se nunc, ô bene nesciunt, novaque
+    Mirantur facie novum nitorem.
+    Ipsas tu facis ô nitere sordes.
+    Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+    Si non hic natibus procax malignis
+    Foedo fulmine turpis intonasset,
+    Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex,
+    Docto et murmure carminis severi
+    Dulces fortiter aggregaret iras?
+    Ipsae ô te faciunt nitere sordes:
+    Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+      Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene!
+    Turpi quam bene degener parenti!
+    Foedi filia tam serena fontis.
+    Has de stercore quis putaret undas?
+    Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge;
+    Surge inter medias serena sordes.
+    Spumis qualiter in suis Dione,
+    Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primas
+    Ortu purpureo movebat undas.
+    Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge:
+    Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT
+
+PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, WHICH IS CALLED
+'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    On this vile theme thee we congratulate,
+    O golden Muse, pleasing and delicate;
+    This fair white vileness, Muse, which by its own
+    Or name or face is now no longer known.
+    For, charm'd by thy poetic sacred strain,
+    It knows not, happily, itself again;
+    But with new face wonders at its new splendour--
+    For splendid e'en a vile theme thou canst render:
+    Congratulations for vile theme we tender.
+    For had not _he_,[114] with headlong buttocks base,
+    Gone flashing foully on with thunderous pace,
+    From whence would this avenging plant have sprung,
+    This solemn strain with polish'd music rung?
+    And whence had gather'd these brave angers tender?
+    O Muse, the vilest theme can bring thee splendour,
+    For which congratulations now we render.
+      Thy Hippocrenè comes with a fair face,
+    Finely unworthy of its father base;
+    Of a foul fountain so serene a daughter:
+    From dunghill, who would dream such crystal water?
+      Thus rise, O Muse, O rise, a milk-white queen,
+    Out of the midst of vileness rise serene.
+    Even as Venus rising from her spray,
+    When she discover'd to the light of day
+    Her golden limbs, the billowy waves surprising
+    With the first glory of her purple rising;
+    So rise, O Muse, thy milk-white grace unfold;
+    Ennius' dunghill will be Virgil's gold!           R. WI.
+
+
+MELIUS PURGATUR STOMACHUS PER
+
+VOMITUM QUAM PER SECESSUM.
+
+    Dum vires refero vomitus et nobile munus,
+      Da mini de vomitu, grandis Homere, tuo.
+    Nempe olim, multi cum carminis anxia moles
+      Vexabat stomachum, magne Poeta, tuum;
+    Aegraque jejuno tenuebat pectora morsu,
+      Jussit et in crudam semper hiare famem:
+    Phœbus, ut est medicus, vomitoria pocula praebens,
+      Morbum omnem longos expulit in vomitus.
+    Protinus et centum incumbunt toto ore Poetae,
+      Certantes sacras lambere relliquias.
+    Quod vix fecissent, scio, si medicamen ineptum
+      Venisset misere posteriore via.
+    Quippe per anfractus caecique volumina ventris
+      Sacra, putas, hostem vult medicina sequi?
+    Tam turpes tenebras haec non dignatur, at ipsum
+      Sedibus ex imis imperiosa trahit.
+
+    ERGO:
+
+    Per vomitum stomachus melius purgabitur, alvus
+      Quam qua secretis exit opaca viis.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    While we do not deem it expedient to translate this somewhat coarse
+    _jeu d'esprit_, 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:
+
+    Old Homer in his time made a great feast,
+    And every Poet was thereat a guest:
+    All had their welcome, yet not all one fare;
+    To them above the salt (his chiefest care)
+    He spread a banquet of choice Poesie,
+    Whereon they fed even to satietie.
+    The lower end had from that end their cates;
+    For Homer, setting open his dung-gates,
+    Delivered from that dresser excrement,
+    Whereon they glutted, and returned in print.
+    Let no man wonder that I this rehearse;
+    Nought came from Homer but it turned to verse.
+    Now where our Author was, at this good cheere,
+    Where was his place, or whether he were there;
+    Whether he waited, or he tooke away,
+    Of this same point I cannot soothly say.
+    But this I ghesse: being then a dandiprat,
+    Some witty Poet took him on his lap,
+    And fed him, from above, with some choice bit.
+    Hence his acumen, and a ready wit.
+    But prayers from a friendly pen ill thrive,
+    And truth's scarce truth, spoke by a relative.
+    Let envy, therefore, give her vote herein:
+    Envy and th' Author sure are nought akin.
+    He personate bad Envy; yet say so,
+    He lickt at Homer's mouth, not from below.      R[ALPH] H[UTTON].
+
+    Percy Society edit. (Rimbault), 1842. Both Hutton and Crashaw remind
+    us of the like sportiveness (rough) in Dryden and Byron. G.
+
+
+CUM HORUM ALIQUA DEDICARAM
+
+PRAECEPTORI MEO COLENDISSIMO, AMICO AMICISSIMO, R. BROOKE.[115]
+
+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.
+
+    Qualiter e nido multa jam floridus ala
+    Astra sibi meditatur avis, pulchrosque meatus
+    Aërios inter proceres, licet aethera nunquam
+    Expertus, rudibusque illi sit in ardua pennis
+    Prima fides, micat ire tamen, quatiensque decora
+    Veste leves humeros, querulumque per aëra ludens
+    Nil dubitat vel in astra vagos suspendere nisus,
+    At vero simul immensum per inane profundis
+    Exhaustus spatiis, vacuoque sub aethere pendens,
+    Arva procul sylvasque suas, procul omnia cernit,
+    Cernere quae solitus: tum vero victa cadit mens,
+    Spesque suas, et tanta timens conamina, totus
+    Respicit ad matrem, pronisque revertitur auris.
+
+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 cœli meaeque conscientiae
+meum jacto effero me in hoc ultra aemuli patientiam. Enim vero
+elegantiore obsequio venerentur te, et venerantur 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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WHEN I HAD DEDICATED CERTAIN OF MY POEMS
+
+TO MY MOST ESTIMABLE PRECEPTOR AND MOST FRIENDLY FRIEND, R. BROOKE.
+
+'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.
+
+      Like as a nestling, feather'd gaily o'er,
+    Is meditating towards the stars to soar,
+    And in ambitious flights already vies
+    With the wing'd chiefs that skim along the skies:
+    What though he never has essay'd the air,
+    And needs must trust in plumes untried to bear
+    Unwonted burden heavenward? yet he quivers
+    To stretch his wings, and his fair plumage shivers
+    Round his light shoulders till he flits away,
+    While whispering airs against his pinions play;
+    Nor dreams he will suspend his wandering flight
+    Anywhere short of regions starry bright.
+    But when exhausted by the spaces high
+    And the immeasurable void of sky,
+    Hovering in empty air, far off he sees
+    The fields and hedges and familiar trees--
+    O, how far off!--which used his sight to please;
+    Then sudden overpower'd behold him sink,
+    And from his hopes and lofty soarings shrink:
+    To his dear mother his whole soul looks back,
+    And down he flutters on the homeward track.
+
+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.
+
+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. R. WI.
+
+
+IN OBITUM REV. V. D^{ris} MANSELL,
+
+COLL. REGIN. M^{ri} QUI VEN. D^{s} BROOKE [M^{ri} COLL. TRIN.],
+INTERITUM PROXIME SECUTUS EST.[116]
+
+    Ergo iterum in lacrymas et saevi murmura planctus
+      Ire jubet tragica mors iterata manu;
+    Scilicet illa novas quae jam fert dextra sagittas,
+      Dextra priore recens sanguine stillat adhuc.
+    Vos ô, quos socia Lachesis prope miscuit urna,
+      Et vicina colus vix sinit esse duos;
+    Ite ô, quos nostri jungunt consortia damni;
+      Per nostras lacrymas ô nimis ite pares;
+    Ite per Elysias felici tramite valles,
+      Et sociis animos conciliate viis.
+    Illic ingentes ultro confundite manes,
+      Noscat et aeternam mutua dextra fidem.
+    Communes eadem spargantur in otia curae,
+      Atque idem felix poscat utrumque labor.
+    Nectarae simul ite vagis sermonibus horae;
+      Nox trahat alternas continuata vices.
+    Una cibos ferat, una suas vocet arbor in umbras;
+      Ambobus faciles herba det una toros.
+    Certum erit interea quanto sit major habenda
+      Quam quae per vitam est, mortis amicitia.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE DEATH OF REV. DR. MANSELL,
+
+MASTER OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE, WHICH FOLLOWED VERY CLOSELY THE DECEASE OF
+REV. DR. BROOKE.[117]
+
+    In tears once more and sighs of cruel woe
+    Death's tragic stroke repeated bids us go;
+    That fatal hand, which now bears arrows new,
+    Still freshly drips with former crimson dew.
+    Ye whom Fate almost mingl'd in one urn,
+    Whom to be two, close threads forbid discern;
+    Go ye, who equally our sorrows share,
+    By reason of our tears too much a pair;
+    Go where Elysian vales your steps invite,
+    In social paths your happy souls unite;
+    There mix your mighty shades with willing mind,
+    Eternal faith your blended right-hands find.
+    Let common cares be lost in the same joys,
+    While the same happy labour both employs;
+    Through nectar'd hours in talk together range,
+    And night continue the sweet interchange:
+    One tree bear fruit for both, one tree yield shade,
+    On the same turf your pleasant couch be made;
+    Thus how much better will be plainly seen
+    Friendship of Death than that of life, I ween.    R. WI.
+
+
+HONORATISSIMO DR. ROBERTO HEATH,
+
+SUMMO JUSTIT. DE COM. BANCO, GRATULATIO.[118]
+
+    Ignitum latus et sacrum tibi gratulor ostrum,
+      O amor atque tuae gloria magna togae:
+    Nam video Themis ecce humeris, Themis ardet in istis,
+      Inque tuos gaudet tota venire sinus.
+    O ibi purpureo quam se bene porrigit astro,
+      Et docet hic radios luxuriare suos.
+    Imo eat aeterna sic ô Themis aurea pompa;
+      Hic velit ô sidus semper habere suum.
+    Sic flagret, et nunquam tua purpura palleat intus;
+      O nunquam in vultus digna sit ire tuos.
+    Sanguine ab innocuo nullos bibat illa rubores;
+      Nec tam crudeli murice proficiat.
+    Quaeque tibi est (nam quae non est tibi?) candida virtus
+      Fortunam placide ducat in alta tuam.
+    Nullius viduae lacrymas tua marmora sudent;
+      Nec sit, quae inclamet te, tibi facta domus.
+    Non gemat ulla suam pinus tibi scissa ruinam,
+      Ceu cadat in domini murmure maesta sui.
+    Fama suas subter pennas tibi sternat eunti;
+      Illa tubae faciat te melioris opus.
+    Thura tuo, quacunque meat, cum nomine migrent;
+      Quaeque vehit felix te, vehat aura rosas.
+    Vive tuis, nec enim non sunt aequissima, votis
+      Aequalis, quae te sidera cunque vocant.
+    Haec donec niveae cedat tua purpura pallae,
+      Lilium ibi fuerit, quae rosa vestis erat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD ROBERT HEATH,
+
+ON HIS BEING MADE A JUDGE: A CONGRATULATION.[119]
+
+    Upon thy sacred purple, barr'd with fire,
+    I gratulate thee--glorious, lov'd attire!
+    For on those shoulders I see Justice shine,
+    And glad to hide within those folds of thine.
+    O finely there she shoots her purple beam,
+    And teaches here her rays brightly to gleam.
+    May Justice thus in pomp eternal go,
+    Here always wish her golden star to glow!
+    Thus blaze, and ne'er thy purple pale its blush,
+    And never need into thy face to flush.
+    From innocent blood ne'er drink a deeper dye,
+    And turn more crimson from such cruelty.
+    Let all fair virtues--for thou ownest all--
+    Calmly to heaven above thy footsteps call.
+    No widows' tears thy marble halls distil,
+    No house cry out against thee, built by ill;
+    No timber cut for thee its downfall groan,
+    'Mid its lord's murmurs sadly overthrown.
+    May Fame spread out her wings beneath thy feet,
+    And thee with loud applause her trumpet greet!
+    May incense waft thy name where'er it goes,
+    The happy gale which bears thee bear the rose!
+    Live equal to thy prayers, most just are they,
+    Whatever stars direct thee on thy way,
+    Till this thy purple turn to robe of snow,
+    And where the rose had been, the lily glow!       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+HORATII ODE,
+
+Ille et nefasto te posuit die, &c. Lib. ii. 13.
+
+
+ἑλληνιστί.
+
+    Ὥρᾳ σε κεῖνος θῆκεν ἀποφράδι
+    Ὁ πρῶτος ὅστις χειρὶ τε βώμακι
+      Ἔθρεψε, δένδρον, τῆς τε κώμης
+        Αἴτιον, ἐσσομένων τ' ἔλεγχος.
+    Κεῖνος τοκῆος θρύψε καὶ αὐχένα,
+    Κεῖνος γε, φαίην, ἅιματι ξεινίῳ
+      Μυχώτατον κοιτῶνα ῥαῖνε
+        Νύκτιος, ἀμφαφάασε κεῖνος
+    Τὰ δῆτα Κόλχων φάρμακα, καὶ κακοῦ
+    Πᾶν χρῆμα, δώσας μοὶ ἐπιχώριον
+      Σε στυγνὸν ἔρνος, δεσπότου σε
+        Ἔμπεσον ἐς κεφαλὴν ἀεικῶς.
+    Πάσης μὲν ὥρης πᾶν ἐπικίνδυνον
+    Τίς οἶδε φεύγειν; δείδιε Βόσφορον
+      Λιβὺς ὁ πλωτὴν, οὐδ' ἀναίκηρ
+        Τὴν κρυφίην ἑτέρωθεν ὀκνεῖ.
+    Πάρθων μάχημον Ρὡμάϊκος φυγὴν,
+    Καὶ τόξα· Πάρθος Ρὡμαΐκην βίαν,
+      Καὶ δεσμὰ· λάους ἀλλὰ μοίρας
+        Βάλλε, βαλεῖ τ' ἀδόκητος ὁρμή.
+    Σχέδον σχέδον πῶς Περσεφόνης ἴδον
+    Αὔλην μελαίνην, καὶ κρίσιν Αἰακοῦ,
+      Καλὴν τ' ἀπόστασιν μακαίρων
+        Αἰολίαις κινύρην τε χορδαῖς
+    Σαπφὼ πατρίδος μεμφομένην κόραις,
+    Ἠχοῦντα καὶ σε πλεῖον ἐπιχρύσῳ,
+      Ἀλκαῖε, πλήκτρῳ σκληρὰ νῆος,
+        Σκληρὰ φυγῆς, πολέμου τε σκληρά
+    Εὐφημέουσαι δ' ἀμφοτέρων σκιαὶ
+    Κλύουσι θάμβει, τὰς δὲ μαχὰς πλέον,
+      Ἀναστάτους τε μὲν τυράννους
+        Ὠμιὰς ἔκπιεν ὦσι λᾶος.
+    Τί θαῦμ'; ἐκείναις θὴρ ὅτε τρίκρανος
+    Ἄκην ἀοιδαῖς, οὔατα κάββαλε,
+      Ἐριννύων θ' ἡδυπαθοῦσι
+        Βόστρυχες, ἡσυχίων ἐχιδνῶν.
+    Καὶ δὴ Προμηθεὺς, καὶ Πέλοπος πατὴρ
+    Εὕδουσιν ἠχεῖ τῷ λαθικήδεϊ·
+      Ἄγειν λεόντας Ὠρίων δὲ
+        Οὐ φιλεέι, φοβεράς τε λύγκας.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+III.
+
+ROYAL AND ACADEMICAL.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+    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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+AD CAROLUM PRIMUM:
+
+REX REDUX.[120]
+
+
+    Ille redit, redit. Hoc populi bona murmura volvunt;
+      Publicus hoc, audin'? plausus ad astra refert:
+    Hoc omni sedet in vultu commune serenum;
+      Omnibus hinc una est laetitiae facies.
+    Rex noster, lux nostra redit; redeuntis ad ora
+      Arridet totis Anglia laeta genis:
+    Quisque suos oculos oculis accendit ab istis;
+      Atque novum sacro sumit ab ore diem.
+    Forte roges tanto quae digna pericula plausu
+      Evadat Carolus, quae mala quosve metus:
+    Anne pererrati male fida volumina ponti
+      Ausa illum terris pene negare suis:
+    Hospitis an nimii rursus sibi conscia tellus
+      Vix bene speratum reddat Ibera caput.
+    Nil horum; nec enim male fida volumina ponti
+      Aut sacrum tellus vidit Ibera caput.
+    Verus amor tamen haec sibi falsa pericula fingit--
+      Falsa peric'la solet fingere verus amor;
+    At Carolo qui falsa timet, nec vera timeret--
+      Vera peric'la solet temnere verus amor;
+    Illi falsa timens, sibi vera pericula temnens,
+      Non solum est fidus, sed quoque fortis amor.
+    Interea nostri satis ille est causa triumphi:
+      Et satis, ah, nostri causa doloris erat.
+    Causa doloris erat Carolus, sospes licet esset;
+      Anglia quod saltem dicere posset, abest.
+    Et satis est nostri Carolus nunc causa triumphi:
+      Dicere quod saltem possumus: Ille redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE RETURN OF THE KING.
+
+    'The King returns!' the people cry;
+    And shouts of greeting scale the sky.
+    The news sits in each look serene;
+    In each a common joy is seen.
+    Our King! our light! she laughs once more,
+    Glad Anglia, as he gains her shore.
+    Each at the King's eyes lights his eyes;
+    Sees new day with his face arise.
+    You'll ask, what fears beset his way,
+    What ills, what dangers,--we're so gay:
+    If 'gainst his bark, that sail'd for home,
+    The faithless billows dar'd to foam;
+    Or if, so seldom blest, you plann'd
+    To keep him still, Iberian land.
+    Nor waves have wrong'd his saintly head,
+    Nor green Iberia felt his tread.
+    Yet think such fancies true love will--
+    True love, that feigns false perils still:
+    Us such fears vex, whose hearts are stout--
+    True perils still true love will scout:
+    Thus fear false perils, scorn the true,
+    Will trusty love and brave in you.
+    O fitly we kept cloudy brow,
+    Because of him, as laughter now.
+    When we could say, 'Our King's not here,'
+    We griev'd for him, no danger near:
+    Now our hearts can no least joy lack,
+    When we say, laughing, 'He's come back.'              A.
+
+
+AD PRINCIPEM NONDUM NATUM,
+
+REGINA GRAVIDA.[121]
+
+    Nascere nunc, ô nunc; quid enim, puer alme, moraris?
+      Nulla tibi dederit dulcior hora diem.
+    Ergone tot tardos, ô lente, morabere menses?
+      Rex redit; ipse veni, et dic, bone, gratus ades.
+    Nam quid ave nostrum? quid nostri verba triumphi?
+      Vagitu melius dixeris ista tuo.
+    At maneas tamen, et nobis nova causa triumphi:
+      Sic demum fueris; nec nova causa tamen:
+    Nam quoties Carolo novus aut nova nascitur infans,
+      Revera toties Carolus ipse redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE ROYAL INFANT NOT YET BORN,
+
+THE QUEEN BEING WITH CHILD.
+
+    Be born, O, now; for why, fair child, delay?
+    No sweeter hour will bring to thee the day.
+    So many months wilt linger on the wing?
+    The King returns; come thou, and welcome bring.
+    What is our hail? our voice of triumph high?
+    Thou wilt have said these better with thy cry.
+    But stay; and soon new cause of triumph be;
+    And yet in thee no new cause shall we see:
+    Oft as to Charles is born new girl, new boy,
+    Sure Charles himself returns, and brings us joy.  R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+IN FACIEM AUGUSTISSIMI REGIS
+
+A MORBILLIS INTEGRAM.[122]
+
+
+    Musa redi, vocat alma parens Aeademia: noster
+      En redit, ore suo noster Apollo redit;
+    Vultus adhuc suus, et vultu sua purpura tantum
+      Vivit, et admixtas pergit amare nives.
+    Tune illas violare genas? tune illa profanis,
+      Morbe ferox, tentas ire per ora notis?
+    Tu Phoebi faciem tentas, vanissime? Nostra
+      Nec Phœbe maculas novit habere suas.
+    Ipsa sui vindex facies morbum indignatur;
+      Ipsa sedet radiis ô bene tuta suis:
+    Quippe illic Deus est. coelumque et sanctius astrum:
+      Quippe sub his totus ridet Apollo genis.
+    Quod facie Rex tutus erat, quod caetera tactus:
+      Hinc hominem Rex est fassus, et inde Deum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE FACE OF THE MOST AUGUST KING.
+
+UNINJURED BY SMALL-POX.
+
+    Come, Muse, at call of thy Academy:
+    With his own face our Phœbus here we see;
+    His face his own yet, with its own red dyed,
+    Which with its whiteness loves to be allied.
+    O fierce disease, dost thou, with marks profane,
+    Attempt these cheeks, that countenance, to stain?
+    Most futile! Dost attempt our Phœbus' face?
+    Not in our Phœbe her own spots canst trace.
+    His self-asserting face disdains disease;
+    'Mid its own rays it sits, O well at ease.
+    Sure God and heaven and holiest star are here;
+    Sure 'neath these cheeks smiles Phœbus full and clear.
+    Our King being safe in face, but touch'd elsewhere,
+    Proves he was here a god, though a man there.     R. WI.
+
+
+IN SERENISSIMAE REGINAE
+
+PARTUM HIEMALEM.[123]
+
+    Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non præbeat hortus?
+      Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer.
+    Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres
+      Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.
+    Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras;
+      Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.
+    Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem,
+      Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur.
+    Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis
+      Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis?
+    Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis?
+      Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas?
+    O Maria, ô divum soboles, genitrixque deorum,
+      Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?
+    Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumae
+      Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos?
+    Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma,
+      Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives?
+    Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris,
+      Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?
+    O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto
+      Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis;
+    O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi
+      Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes;
+    Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis;
+      Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos.
+    Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri;
+      Inque uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui.
+    Sit nobis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras
+      Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis.
+    Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres,
+      Has per te roseas saepe videre nives.
+    Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum,
+      Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies:
+    Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?
+      Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?
+    Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum:
+      In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.
+    Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni:
+      Tempus et in titulos transeat omne tuos.
+    Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?
+      Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga?
+    Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroque:
+      Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.
+    Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum
+      Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam.
+    O bona sors anni, cum cuncti ex ordine menses
+      Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN WINTER.
+
+    Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now
+    Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou
+    Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,--snow?
+    Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know.
+    Winter upon our shores, and snow? the thing
+    Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring:
+    Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear
+    Beatings of wild December, Spring is here.
+    See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine
+    Spreads forth, what clusters on her boughs incline?
+    Say, when like this was Winter ever seen
+    To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen,
+    Offspring of gods, and mother! do we see
+    The seasons thus a plaything made for thee?
+    Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain,
+    That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain.
+    And do the lilies by thy grace alone
+    Spring up, and know no snows except their own?
+    In spite of all that Winter may oppose,
+    Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose?
+    O thou most blest disturber of the year,
+    Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here
+    To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind
+    Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind
+    All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare
+    We pray thee, thus to force our calendar
+    With thy fair violence; continue still
+    The months to number at thine own sweet will;
+    Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome,
+    Make all things subject to thy royal womb.
+    So, by thy grace, may it be often ours
+    To see dethronèd Winter deck'd in flowers;
+    On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze,
+    Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays!
+    Let others by the stars compute their year,
+    And count their days as wandering signs appear:
+    Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm
+    With cruel change our seasons dare deform;
+    To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign,
+    O spend it all i' those rich births of thine!
+    So the whole year shall own thy womb to be
+    Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee
+    Merge all its titles. Where's the month could bear
+    A more delicious name, or ever wear
+    More whiteness? Janus, for his double crown,
+    Covets this laurel; Maius for his own
+    Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost.
+    Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost
+    His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite
+    To take their empire. O blest year, how bright
+    Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim
+    From Mary or from Charles its mighty name!            G.
+
+
+AD REGINAM
+
+ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.[124]
+
+    Huc ô sacris circumflua coetibus,
+    Huc ô frequentem, Musa, choris pedem
+    Fer, annuo doctum labore
+              Purpureas agitare cunas.
+    Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam
+    Maria partu nobilis altero,
+    Prolemque Musarum ministram
+              Egregius sibi poscit infans.
+    Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici
+    Sibive soli facta puerpera est:
+    Partu repercusso, vel absens,
+              Perpetuos procreat gemellos.
+    Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit,
+    Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit,
+    Quae spiritum vitamque donat
+              Principibus simul et Camaenis.
+    Possit Camaenas, non sine numine,
+    Lassare nostras diva puerpera,
+    Et gaudiis siccare totam
+              Perpetuis Heliconis undam.
+    Quin experiri pergat, et in vices
+    Certare sanctis conditionibus:
+    Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro
+              Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci.
+    Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras,
+      Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens.
+    Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas--
+      Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!--vices.
+    Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni:
+      Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    Hither, Muse, and bring again
+    Thy august surrounding train;
+    With measur'd tread of practis'd feet
+    Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet
+    With the voice of loyal cheer
+    A princely cradle year by year.
+    Lo, our noble Queen on thee
+    Calls in fruitful rivalry
+    By another birth; and he,
+    Illustrious infant, needs must have
+    The Muses' offspring for his slave.
+    Never has she yet been known
+    A mother for herself alone,
+    But by a reflected might
+    Even in absence doth delight
+    In twins ever, and while she
+    Thus augments her progeny,
+    And gives vigour to the lyre,
+    She doth at once with life inspire
+    Young princes, and the Muses' quire.
+    These, though not untouch'd they be
+    With the sacred flame, may she
+    Tire in her fruitful deity,
+    And with joys that theirs outrun,
+    Dry at last all Helicon!
+    Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove
+    Her powers, she deigns by rule to move;
+    Nor an unbecoming stain
+    Is the dust that they must gain,
+    Who in such contest can but fight in vain.
+    Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming,
+      Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair:
+    On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming,
+      A better Nature, with a rule how rare!
+    Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way;
+    A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of
+              Day.                                       CL.
+
+
+SERENISSIMAE REGINAE LIBRUM SUUM
+
+COMMENDAT ACADEMIA.
+
+    Hunc quoque materna, nimium nisi magna rogamus,
+      Aut aviae saltem sume, Maria, manu.
+    Est Musa de matre recens rubicundulus infans,
+      Cui pater est partus--quis putet?--ille tuus.
+    Usque adeo impatiens amor est in virgine Musa:
+      Jam nunc ex illo non negat esse parens.
+    De nato quot habes olim sperare nepotes,
+      Qui simul et pater est, et facit esse patrem!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER MOST SERENE MAJESTY
+
+THE UNIVERSITY COMMENDS ITS BOOK.
+
+    Deign, Queen, to this, unless we ask too much,
+    A mother's, or at least grandmother's, touch.
+    It is the Muse's rosy infant fine;
+    Its father--who would think?--this Child of thine.
+    So unrestrain'd the love of virgin Muse,
+    To be a mother thus she can't refuse.
+    From _him_ what grandsons round thee soon will gather,
+    Who at once father is, and makes a father!        R. WI.
+
+
+PRINCIPI RECENS NATAE
+
+OMEN MATERNAE INDOLIS.[125]
+
+    Cresce, ô dulcibus imputanda divis;
+    O cresce, et propera, puella princeps,
+    In matris propera venire partes.
+    Et cum par breve fulminum minorum,
+    Illinc Carolus, et Jacobus inde,
+    In patris faciles subire famam,
+    Ducent fata furoribus decoris;
+    Cum terror sacer Anglicique magnum
+    Murmur nominis increpabit omnem
+    Late Bosporon Ottomanicasque
+    Non picto quatiet tremore Lunas;
+    Te tunc altera nec timenda paci
+    Poscent praelia; tu potens pudici
+    Vibratrix oculi, pios in hostes
+    Late dulcia fata dissipabis.
+    O eum flos tener ille, qui recenti
+    Pressus sidere jam sub ora ludit,
+    Olim fortior omne cuspidatos
+    Evolvet latus aureum per ignes;
+    Quique imbellis adhuc, adultus olim,
+    Puris expatiabitur genarum
+    Campis imperiosior Cupido;
+    O quam certa superbiore penna
+    Ibunt spicula melleaeque mortes,
+    Exultantibus hinc et inde turmis,
+    Quoquo jusseris, impigre volabunt!
+    O quot corda calentium deorum
+    De te vulnera delicata discent!
+    O quot pectora principum magistris
+    Fient molle negotium sagittis!
+    Nam quae non poteris per arma ferri,
+    Cui matris sinus atque utrumque sidus
+    Magnorum patet officina amorum?
+    Hinc sumas licet, ô puella princeps,
+    Quantacunque opus est tibi pharetra.
+    Centum sume Cupidines ab uno
+    Matris lumine Gratiasque centum
+    Et centum Veneres: adhuc manebunt
+    Centum mille Cupidines; manebunt
+    Tercentum Veneresque Gratiaeque
+    Puro fonte superstites per aevum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Grow, maiden Princess, and increase,
+    Thou who with the sweet goddesses
+    Thy place shalt have; O haste to be
+    Thy mother's own epitome;
+    And when that pair of minor flames,
+    Thy princely brothers Charles and James,
+    Apt in the footsteps of their sire,
+    Lead on the Fates in glorious ire;
+    When o'er the Bosphorus shall creep
+    A thrill of dread, as rolls full deep
+    The murmur of the British name,
+    And with no feign'd alarm shall shame
+    The Turkish Crescent--other wars,
+    And such as bring sweet Peace no tears
+    Shall call thee forth; and from on high
+    The flashing of thy modest eye
+    Shall scatter o'er adoring foes
+    Thick volleys of delicious woes.
+    O, when that tender bloom which now
+    Plays, lately born, beneath thy brow,
+    In time to come with mightier blaze
+    Shall dart around its pointed rays;
+    When he, the Cupid now so mild,
+    No longer but a harmless child,
+    Shall range in youth's imperious pride
+    Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,--
+    O then with what unerring skill,
+    Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,
+    While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow
+    Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!
+    How many god-like breasts shall learn
+    From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!
+    How often shall thy mastering darts
+    Work their sweet will on princely hearts!
+    For what may she not do in war,
+    Whose mother's breast--with each bright star
+    That rul'd her birth--to her but proves
+    A storehouse of all-conquering loves?
+      Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,
+    Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.
+    A hundred Cupids be thy prize,
+    From one of thy bright mother's eyes;
+    A hundred graces add to these,
+    And then a hundred Venuses:
+    A hundred-thousand Cupids still
+    Are hers; three hundred Graces will,
+    With Venuses in equal store,
+    Haunt that pure fount for evermore.                CL.
+
+
+
+
+IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS.[126]
+
+
+    Parce tuo jam, bruma ferox, ô parce furori,
+    Pone animos; ô pacatae da spiritus aurae,
+    Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum.
+    Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster
+    Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat;
+    Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis;
+    Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares,
+    Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster.
+    Scilicet hoc decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum
+    Attollit series, adeo commune serenum
+    Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas;
+    Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras
+    Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis?
+    Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae
+    Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu
+    Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes
+    Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis
+    Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata
+    Luxurie, tanta ô circum cunabula surgat,
+    Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus.
+      Quippe venit, sacris iterum vagitibus ingens
+    Aula sonat, venit en roseo decus addita fratri
+    Blanda soror. Tibi se brevibus, tibi porrigit ulnis,
+    Magne puer, facili tibi torquet hiantia risu
+    Ora; tibi molles lacrymas et nobile murmur
+    Temperat, inque tuo ponit se pendula collo.
+    Tale decus juncto veluti sub stemmate cum quis
+    Dat sociis lucere rosis sua lilia. Talis
+    Fulget honos medio cum se duo sidera mundo
+    Dulcibus intexunt radiis: nec dignior olim
+    Flagrabat nitidae felix consortio formae,
+    Tunc cum sidereos inter pulcherrima fratres
+    Erubuit primum, et Laedaeo cortice rupto
+    Tyndarida explicuit tenerae nova gaudia frontis.
+      Sic socium ô miscete jubar, tu candide frater,
+    Tuque serena soror. Sic ô date gaudia patri,
+    Sic matri cumque ille olim subeuntibus annis,
+    Ire inter proprios magna cervice triumphos.
+    Egregius volet, atque sua se discere dextra;
+    Te quoque tum pleno mulcebit sidere, et alto
+    Flore tui dulcesque oculos maturior ignis
+    Indole divina, et radiis intinget honoris.
+    Tunc ô te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa,
+    Esse suam Phœben fulsus jurabit Apollo;
+    Tunc ô te quoties, nisi quod tu castior illa,
+    Esse suam Venerem Mavors jurabit inanis.
+    Felix, ah, et cui se non Mars, non aureus ipse
+    Credet Apollo parem; tanta cui conjuge celsus
+    In pulchros properare sinus, et carpere sacras
+    Delicias oculosque tuos, tua basia solus
+    Tum poterit dixisse sua; et se nectare tanto
+    Dum probat esse Deum, superas contemnere mensas.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Forbear thy fury, Winter fierce, forbear;
+    Lay down thy wrath, and let the tranquil air
+    With inspiration mild soothe the stern year:
+    This time deserves it, and occasion dear.
+    The wild North-wind may rage and wildly bluster;
+    The gusty South its rainy clouds may muster;
+    Yet here at least, if thou but will it so,
+    Neither wild North nor gusty South will blow.
+    For were it seemly, when events so bright
+    Exalt us, and the universal light
+    Of joy and vernal pleasure thrills the soul,
+    Grim lines of battling tempest-clouds should roll
+    Through all the air, and drown the year with rain?
+    Better old Winter should bright youth regain,
+    And turn at once to Spring; with tumult sweet
+    Hasten his purple stores, and joyful greet
+    With all his outpour'd heart this shining Day,
+    And bid its fragrant hours for ever stay;
+    Making a radiant wealth of flowers abound
+    Where in her cradle that sweet Child is found,
+    Her tender limbs caress and softly compass round.
+      She comes! Once more are heard those blessèd cries
+    Within the palace. See a glory rise--
+    A star-like glory added to the other,
+    A charming sister to a rosy brother!
+    To this she stretches out her tiny arms,
+    Fair Boy--for thee displays the winsome charms
+    Of her sweet smiles, and checks her gentle tears,
+    And coos and prattles to delight thine ears,
+    Or fondly hangs upon thy neck. Such grace
+    Pleases the eye, when, their stalks joined, you place
+    Lilies with roses to combine their splendour.
+    And then appears such lustrous glory tender,
+    When in the midst of heaven, at dewy eve,
+    Two stars their gentle radiance interweave.
+    Nor loftier grace that beauteous union show'd
+    When from her egg the fairest Helen glow'd
+    Betwixt her starry brothers, and display'd
+    Her tender brow with new delights array'd.
+      So mix your common beam, thou brother fair
+    And sister mild. Such joys your father share
+    And mother dear! And when, as seasons roll,
+    He moves with head erect and princely soul
+    Amid his proper triumphs, and shall learn
+    Himself by his own deeds, thou shalt discern
+    A riper flame within thee, heavenly dower,
+    And star full-orb'd shalt shine, and full-grown flower;
+    While a soft beauty bathes thy lustrous eyes,
+    And rays of majesty the world surprise.
+      Then O how oft, but that thou art more fair,
+    Will some imaginary Phœbus swear
+    That thou art his own Phœbe! or again
+    But that thou art more chaste, some Mars in vain
+    Will swear thou art his Venus, love's soft strain!
+      Ah, happy he, to whom nor Mars will dream
+    Nor golden Phœbus he can equal seem,
+    Who with a wife so sweet, so fair is blest,
+    And all the fond affection of thy breast,
+    And tender, pure endearments; who alone
+    Can call thy eyes and kisses all his own;
+    And while he quaffs such nectar'd wine of love,
+    Feels like a god, and scorns the feasts above.    R. WI.
+
+
+AD REGINAM.[127]
+
+    Et vero jam tempus erat tibi, maxima mater,
+      Dulcibus his oculis accelerare diem:
+    Tempus erat, ne qua tibi basia blanda vacarent;
+      Sarcina ne collo sit minus apta tuo.
+    Scilicet ille tuus, timor et spes ille suorum,                  5
+      Quo primum es felix pignore facta parens,
+    Ille ferox iras jam nunc meditatur et enses,
+      Jam patris magis est, jam magis ille suus.
+    Indolis ô stimulos; vix dum illi transiit infans,
+      Jamque sibi impatiens arripit ille virum.                    10
+    Improbus ille suis adeo negat ire sub annis:
+      Jam nondum puer est, major et est puero.
+    Si quis in aulaeis pictas animatus in iras
+      Stat leo, quem docta cuspide lusit acus,
+    Hostis, io, est; neque enim ille alium dignabitur hostem;      15
+      Nempe decet tantas non minor ira manus.
+    Tunc hasta gravis adversum furit; hasta bacillum est;
+      Mox falsum vero vulnere pectus hiat.
+    Stat leo, ceu stupeat tali bene fixus ab hoste,
+      Ceu quid in his oculis vel timeat vel amet,                  20
+    Tam torvum, tam dulce micant: nescire fatetur
+      Mars ne sub his oculis esset, an esset amor.
+    Quippe illic Mars est, sed qui bene possit amari;
+      Est et amor certe, sed metuendus amor:
+    Talis amor, talis Mars est ibi cernere; qualis                 25
+      Seu puer hic esset, sive vir ille Deus.
+    Hic tibi jam scitus succedit in oscula fratris;
+      Res, ecce, in lusus non operosa tuos.
+    Basia jam veniant tua quantacunque caterva;
+      Jam quocunque tuus murmure ludat amor.                       30
+    En, tibi materies tenera et tractabilis hic est;
+      Hic ad blanditias est tibi cera satis.
+    Salve infans, tot basiolis, molle argumentum,
+      Maternis labiis dulce negotiolum;
+    O salve; nam te nato, puer auree, natus                        35
+      Et Carolo et Mariae tertius est oculus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    'Twas now the time for thee, Mother most great,
+    With these sweet eyes the day to accelerate;
+    Time thy soft kisses should not idle be,
+    Or from fit burden thy fair neck be free.
+    For he, his parents' fear and hope confest,
+    With whom thou first wast made a mother blest,
+    He wraths and swords designs, courageous grown;
+    Now more his father's is, and more his own.
+    O spurs of nature! yet an infant, see
+    He catches at the man impatiently,
+    The rogue declines to keep in his own years;
+    Not yet a child, he more than child appears.
+    If on the tapestry, with feign'd anger fraught,
+    A lion stands, by skilful needle wrought,
+    A foe behold; such foe to fight he deigns;
+    A lesser wrath his mighty hand disdains.
+    Fierce spear he brandishes; a wand his spear:
+    Soon in false breast behold true wound appear.
+    The lion stands, maz'd by such enemy,
+    Fearing or loving something in his eye,
+    So sternly, sweetly bright; nor can he tell
+    Whether beneath that eye Mars or Love dwell.
+    In sooth, a Mars who may be lov'd is here;
+    And Love indeed, but Love deserving fear.
+    Such Love, such Mars, 'tis easy here to scan;
+    This god or that, as he is boy or man.
+      Thy babe now comes to take the endearing place,
+    A creature not beyond thy fond embrace.
+    Now let thy troops of kisses have their way,
+    Now let thy love with brooding murmur play;
+    Here is material tractable and tender,
+    Which waxen surface to soft touch shall render.
+    Hail, infant! gentle subject for caresses,
+    Employment sweet a mother's lips which blesses;
+    O hail; for with thy birth, thou golden boy,
+    Lo, to thy parents a third eye brings joy!        R. WI.
+
+
+VOTIVA DOMUS PETRENSIS
+
+PRO DOMO DEI.[128]
+
+    Ut magis in mundi votis aviumque querelis
+    Jam veniens solet esse dies, ubi cuspide prima
+    Palpitat, et roseo lux praevia ludit ab ortu;
+    Cum nec abest Phœbus, nec Eois laetus habenis
+    Totus adest, volucrumque procul vaga murmura mulcet:
+      Nos ita; quos nuper radiis afflavit honestis              6
+    Relligiosa dies; nostrique per atria cœli--
+    Sacra domus nostrum est coelum--jam luce tenella
+    Libat adhuc trepidae fax nondum firma diei:
+    Nos ita jam exercet nimii impatientia voti,                 10
+    Speque sui propiore premit.
+                                Quis pectora tanti
+    Tendit amor coepti, desiderio quam longo
+    Lentae spes inhiant, domus o dulcissima rerum,
+    Plena Deo domus! Ah, quis erit, quis, dicimus, ille--
+    O bonus, ô ingens meritis, ô proximus ipsi,                 16
+    Quem vocat in sua dona, Deo--quo vindice totas
+    Excutiant tenebras haec sancta crepuscula?
+                                                Quando,
+    Quando erit, ut tremulae flos heu tener ille diei,          20
+    Qui velut ex oriente suo jam altaria circum
+    Lambit, et ambiguo nobis procul anuit astro,
+    Plenis se pandat foliis, et lampade tota
+    Laetus, ut e medio cum sol micat aureus axe,
+    Attonitam penetrare domum bene possit adulto                25
+    Sidere, nec dubio pia moenia mulceat ore?
+      Quando erit, ut convexa suo quoque pulchra sereno
+    Florescant, roseoque tremant laquearia risu?
+    Quae nimium informis tanquam sibi conscia frontis
+    Perpetuis jam se lustrant lacrymantia guttis?               30
+      Quando erit, ut claris meliori luce fenestris
+    Plurima per vitreos vivat pia pagina vultus?
+      Quando erit, ut sacrum nobis celebrantibus hymnum
+    Organicos facili et nunquam fallente susurro
+    Nobile murmur agat nervos; pulmonis iniqui                  35
+    Fistula nec monitus faciat malefida sinistros?
+      Denique, quicquid id est quod res hic sacra requirit,
+    Fausta illa et felix--sitque ô tua--dextra, suam cui
+    Debeat haec Aurora diem. Tibi supplicat ipsa,
+    Ipsa tibi facit ara preces. Tu jam illius audi,             40
+    Audiet illa tuas. Dubium est, modo porrige dextram,
+    Des magis, an capias: audi tantum esse beatus,
+    Et damnum hoc lucrare tibi.
+                                  Scis ipse volucres
+    Quae rota volvat opes; has ergo, hic fige perennis          45
+    Fundamenta Domus Petrensi in rupe, suamque
+    Fortunae sic deme rotam. Scis ipse procaces
+    Divitias quam prona vagos vehat ala per Euros;
+    Divitiis illas, age, deme volucribus alas,
+    Facque suus nostras illis sit nidus ad aras:                50
+    Remigii ut tandem pennas melioris adeptae,
+    Se rapiant, dominumque suum super aethera secum.
+      Felix ô qui sic potuit bene providus uti
+    Fortunae pennis et opum levitate suarum,
+    Divitiisque suis aquilae sic addidit alas.                  55
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE PRAYER OF PETERHOUSE FOR THE HOUSE OF GOD [=ITS CHAPEL].
+
+    As bids the Day a keener longing stir
+    The waking world, and warblings cheerier
+    To birds inspires, when comes she o'er the hills,
+    As quivering dart the streaks of Morn, and thrills
+    Through lattic'd sky from roseate East the light
+    Presaging his approach; nor absent quite,
+    Nor glorying in his slacken'd reins, the Sun
+    Is present all; and birds, to music won
+    By gentle touch, are murmuring far and near,--
+    So we, on whom with radiance severe
+    A solemn day begins to dawn; whose eye
+    Now sees glide through the heavenly courts which lie,
+    With portals wide--God's house is heaven, we say--
+    The flame unsteady of still wavering Day
+    Slenderly stealing in; the prospect nigher,
+    Our hearts too labour with extreme desire,
+    And throb with hopes impatient of their end.
+      How love of such a work our heart doth rend!
+    How long desire makes hopes in leash restrain'd
+    To pant! O sweetest House, on which has rain'd
+    The torrent of God's fulness. Ah, who is he,
+    Ah, who--O good, O huge in charity,
+    O nigh to God Himself,--Whom to descend
+    On His own gracious gifts he prays--shall lend
+    This sacred twilight power to drive away
+    All gloom, and shake her raiment into day?
+    Ah, when, thou pitifully trem'lous bloom
+    Of glimmering Day, that as from bridal room
+    In the Orient cam'st to kiss our altar-stone,
+    And beckonest to us from a star alone,
+    In yonder distance shining doubtfully,--
+    Ah, when wilt thou expand to Day, and, free
+    In conscious joy of thy full splendour, pour
+    A flood of light, as when the Sun doth soar
+    In golden mid-day, and, to full age grown,
+    Shine through and through the pile, and make it own
+    With awe thy sway, nor let the sacred walls
+    Doubt thy embrace?
+                        Blest he to whom befalls
+    To see the vaulted roofs span their fair sky,
+    And break in flowers, while fretted ceilings lie
+    Trembling with rosy laughter; which do now,
+    As wearing of their shame a conscious brow,
+    Bedew their formless face with dropping tear.
+    When shall it be? the window growing clear
+    With better light, that many a page devout
+    May live, and life from glassy face breathe out.
+    Ah, when, as hymn of praise we celebrate,
+    Shall solemn-breathing murmur make vibrate
+    The organ's nerves with graceful ceaseless hum;
+    Nor pipe of lung unjust intruding come,
+    Each harsh, uncertain note for ever dumb?
+      Whatever else, in fine, this Sanctuary
+    May need, that right-hand bless'd and happy be,
+    And be it thine! to which the Dawn shall owe
+    Its day. The altar kneels to thee. Do thou
+    List to her prayer, and she will thine allow;
+    Stretch out thy laden hand, and doubtful live
+    Whether thou dost not more receive than give;
+    That thou art happy do thou only hear,
+    And turn thy loss to gain in yonder sphere.
+    Thou know'st what wheel makes riches fly away;
+    These riches therefore here securely lay,
+    Fountains of a House perennial,
+    On the Petrensian rock; from Fortune shall
+    Her own wheel thus be wrench'd. Thou knowest how prone
+    A wing bears up unconstant riches, blown
+    On vagrant, veering winds. Come, take away
+    These wings from fleeting riches, make them stay
+    At these our altars, and build here their nest;
+    Till arm'd with wings to better flight redress'd,
+    They may transport themselves to the home of rest,
+    Bearing their master with them.
+                                      Blest that man
+    Who knowing prudently the times to scan,
+    The airiness of wealth to profit brings,
+    And him on Fortune's pinions deftly flings,
+    And to his riches adds an eagle's wings.            S.S.
+
+
+
+
+IN CAETERORUM OPERUM
+
+DIFFICILI PARTURITIONE GEMITUS.[129]
+
+
+    O felix nimis illa, et nostrae nobile nomen
+    Invidiae volucris, facili quae funere surgens
+    Mater odora sui, nitidae nova fila juventae,
+    Et festinatos peragit sibi fata per ignes.
+    Illa, haud natales tot tardis mensibus horas                   5
+    Tam miseris tenuata moris, saltu velut uno
+    In nova secla rapit sese, et caput omne decoras
+    Explicat in frondes, roseoque repullulat ortu.
+    Cinnameos simul illa rogos conscenderit, omnem
+    Laeta bibit Phoebum, et jam jam victricibus alis              10
+    Plaudit humum cineresque suos.
+                              Heu, dispare fato
+    Nos ferimur; seniorque suo sub Apolline phœnix
+    Petrensis mater, dubias librata per auras
+    Pendet adhuc, quaeritque sinum in quo ponat inertes           15
+    Exuvias, spoliisque suae reparata senectae
+    Ore pari surgat, similique per omnia vultu.
+    At nunc heu nixu secli melioris in ipso
+    Deliquium patitur!
+    At nunc heu lentae longo in molimine vitae                    20
+    Interea moritur! Dubio stant moenia vultu
+    Parte sui pulchra, et fratres in foedera muros
+    Invitant frustra, nec respondentia saxis
+    Saxa suis; moerent opera intermissa, manusque
+    Implorant.                                                    25
+                  Succurre piae, succurre parenti,
+    O quisquis pius es. Illi succurre parenti,
+    Quam sibi tot sanctae matres habuere parentem.
+    Quisquis es, ô tibi, crede, tibi tot hiantia ruptis
+    Moenibus ora loqui. Matrem tibi, crede verendam               30
+    Muros tam longo laceros senioque situque
+    Ceu canos monstrare suos. Succurre roganti.
+    Per tibi plena olim, per jam sibi sicca precatur
+    Ubera, ne desis senio. Sic longa juventus
+    Te foveat, querulae nunquam cessura senectae.                 35
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A GROAN
+
+ON OCCASION OF THE DIFFICULT PARTURITION OF THE REMAINING WORKS OF
+PETERHOUSE.
+
+    O bird too fortunate, whose glorious name
+    Fills us with envy of her happy fame,
+    Which by an easy death on soaring wing,
+    Sweet mother of herself, doth upwards spring,
+    Assumes afresh her shining youth's attire,
+    And wins new lease of life through hasten'd fire!
+    She--not through slow-revolving natal days
+    To a thin shadow worn by sad delays--
+    Transports herself into another round
+    Of centuries, as by a single bound;
+    With beauteous leaves her head she covers o'er,
+    And with a rosy birth shoots forth once more.
+    Soon as she climbs the spicy funeral pyre
+    Joyful she drinks the sun, and mounting higher,
+    Now, now the ground her wings victorious strike,
+    And her own ashes.
+                          But, alas, we follow
+    No such example. 'Neath her own Apollo,
+    Our Mother Peterhouse, now ancient grown,
+    Our agèd Phœnix, hither, thither blown,
+    And balancing herself on doubtful air,
+    Hovers with wing uncertain, seeking where
+    Her relics she may lay, worn out with toils,
+    As in a nest, and from the very spoils
+    Of her own age renew'd, she may arise
+    In perfect comeliness of face and eyes,
+    As in the days of old, to mount the skies.
+      But now, alas, e'en in the very throes
+    Of her reviving age our Phœnix knows
+    And keenly feels a sad deficiency.
+    Alas, in life's long lingering effort she
+    Now in the mean while dies. Of doubtful face,
+    Her buildings seem in part bedeck'd with grace;
+    But elsewhere, heedless of inviting calls
+    To union, stand the unfinish'd brother walls.
+    On unresponsive ears the summons falls;
+    As stones to fellow-stones appealing turn,
+    The interrupted works together mourn,
+    And beg a helping hand. O, succour bring,
+    Whoe'er is pious, to the parent wing
+    Which shelter'd thee beneath its holy shade,
+    And gave so many mother churches[130] aid
+    Parental; O, be now thy help display'd.
+    Whoe'er thou art, the ruin'd courts to thee
+    With gaping mouths are speaking audibly.
+    Thy reverend mother would thine eyes engage
+    To view thy walls, dismantled long with age
+    And base neglect, and ponder her gray hair.
+    By the full breasts which once she offer'd thee,
+    By the dry breasts which she is doom'd to see
+    Now for herself, she cries imploringly:
+    'My age to help, O fail not to appear;
+    So may long-lasting youth thy bosom cheer,
+    Youth which complaining age shall never fear.'    R. WI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_more freely_).
+
+A LAMENT
+
+OVER THE SLOW RESTORATION OF PETERHOUSE-COLLEGE BUILDINGS.
+
+    O Phœnix, all-too-happy bird,
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Thou, thine own mother, from the pyre--
+    Spices mix'd with flickering fire--
+    Sweetly didst thy breath suspire;
+    Then rose again, and thy age gone
+    In a swift resurrection--
+    Gone! by wondrous mystic skill
+    Wearing a richer plumage still,
+    Youth renew'd from feet to bill,--
+    Thou didst not linger in thine age,
+    Nor a slow weary struggle wage,
+    With changing cures and long delay
+    Searching for life in every way.
+    No; but a quick fate self-choosing,
+    All hindering self-ruth refusing,
+    Thou didst raise thy funeral pyre,
+    Thou didst hovering i' the fire,
+    From amidst the perfum'd flame
+    Spring up, immortal as thy fame.
+    Thou didst lift thy comely head,
+    Ev'ry moulting feather shed;
+    Thou didst raise thy radiant breast
+    Blazing to the blazing West.
+    O Phœnix, thou'rt an awful bird;
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Climbing to thy funeral pyre,
+    Climbing self-martyr'd to the fire,
+    Sweetly there to bear thine ire;
+    Fetching down from the great sun
+    To pilèd nest of cinnamon
+    Rays intense; then upward winging,
+    Sudden from thine ashes springing;
+    Victorious by this quaint mewing,
+    Life strangely out of death renewing;
+    Now i' the red fire consuming,
+    Next at the sun thine eyes reluming.
+      Alas, how different is the fate
+    In this our later age, ingrate,
+    Of her, my mother-college, lying
+    All desolate and slowly dying;
+    Lifting but a feeble wing,
+    Though once, as Phœnix of the fire,
+    Springing immortal from its pyre;
+    When Apollo and the Graces
+    Reign'd where Ruin now defaces,
+    Gave her, when she shone in splendour,
+    Orator, sage, and poet tender;
+    Gave her sons, noble and good,
+    Better than the bluest blood:
+    O how chang'd, since those days olden
+    Such as in the ages golden,
+    I behold her, smitten, lorn,
+    And by every Fury torn,
+    Hanging in uncertain strife
+    As it were 'twixt death and life;
+    Doubting whether e'en she shall
+    Have so much as funeral;
+    Her corpse laid in some quiet bay,
+    Where the sea-waves softly play;
+    Willing they should take her bones--
+    Her time-stain'd, rent, and shatter'd stones;
+    If only thus but once again
+    Rebuilded, she might yet attain
+    To something of her old renown
+    By such resurrection,
+    And, phœnix-like, herself out-do
+    In her best days when she was new.
+    O ye sons, your mother own
+    In her desolation;
+    Own her, though in aging years
+    She shows few and thin gray hairs,
+    Where once,--ah--in brave times of old--
+    Flash'd her proud locks with sheen of gold.
+    Ah, Peter nam'd, thou art denied,
+    Thus is thy name verified.
+    'Tis a spectacle for tears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for fears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for wonder;
+    'Tis a crime deserves the thunder,
+    That from base to gold-touch'd ceiling
+    Day by day her halls are reeling;
+    Mullion'd window torn and rent,
+    And destruction imminent;
+    Everywhere such gaping wounds
+    As a stranger e'en astounds;
+    And what was in faith begun
+    Left in desolation;
+    Stone to stone in mute appealing,
+    Cold neglect and scorn revealing,
+    And the font of tears unsealing.
+    Sons of my Mother-College lying
+    All in ruins and slow dying,
+    If ye have aught of piety
+    Or least touch of charity,
+    Look on these broken walls, and see
+    Your mother in her misery;
+    Holding up, in vain appealing,
+    Wither'd hands, her woes revealing;
+    And in the rank growths tangled there
+    See her dishonourèd gray hair.
+      Woe is me, her genial breast,
+    Which so many sons has blest,
+    Each all welcoming that came,
+    Drawn by her renownèd name,
+    Wither'd, shrunk, can quench no thirst,
+    Ah, my heart with grief will burst.
+    To my dim eye there rises clear
+    The full tide that once roll'd here;
+    Now shingle, sand, and fest'ring mud
+    Tell of the far-refluent flood.
+      O, pity her, ye sons, and vow
+    Once more to crown your mother's brow;
+    Once more to rear her crumbling walls;
+    Once more to gather in her halls
+    The young, the brave, the true, the good,
+    The wise, the noble; and the Rood
+    Over all shall bless and keep;
+    So in old age ye shall not weep,
+    Nor ever shall your fair fame sleep.                  G.
+
+
+VENERABILI VIRO MAGISTRO TOURNAY,
+
+TUTORI SUO SUMME OBSERVANDO.
+
+    Messis inauravit Cereri jam quarta capillos,
+      Vitis habet Bacchum quarta corona suae,
+    Nostra ex quo, primis plumae vix alba pruinis,
+      Ausa tuo Musa est nidificare sinu.
+    Hic nemus, hic soles, et coelum mitius illi;                  5
+      Hic sua quod Musis umbra vel aura dedit.
+    Sedit ibi secura malus quid moverit Auster,
+      Quae gravis hibernum vexerit ala Jovem.
+    Nescio quo interea multum tibi murmure nota est:
+      Nempe sed hoc poteras murmur amare tamen.                  10
+    Tandem ecce, heu simili de prole puerpera! tandem
+      Hoc tenero tenera est pignore facta parens.
+    Jamque meam hanc sobolem, rogo, quis sinus alter haberet?
+      Quis mihi tam noti nempe teporis erat?
+    Sed quoque et ipsa meus, de te, meus, improba, tutor,        15
+      Quam primum potuit dicere, dixit, erit.
+    Has ego legitimae, nec laevo sidere natae
+      Non puto degeneres indolis esse notas;
+    Nempe quod illa suo patri tam semper apertos,
+      Tam semper faciles norit adire sinus.                      20
+    Ergo tuam tibi sume: tuas eat illa sub alas:
+      Hoc quoque de nostro, quod tuearis, habe.
+    Sic quae Suada tuo fontem sibi fecit in ore,
+      Sancto et securo melle perennis eat.
+    Sic tua, sic nullas Siren non mulceat aures,                 25
+      Aula cui plausus et sua serta dedit.
+    Sic tuus ille, precor, Tagus aut eat obice nullo,
+      Aut omni, quod adhuc, obice major eat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VENERABLE MAN MASTER TOURNAY,
+
+MY TUTOR MOST REVERED.[131]
+
+    A fourth time now our glebe for Ceres bears
+    The golden locks of harvest; Bacchus wears
+    Now the fourth season his bright vine-leaf crown,
+    Since, scant'ly hoar as yet with the soft down
+    Of her first plumage, in thy gentle breast
+    My young Muse dar'd to build herself a nest.
+    Here found she sun and shade and gentler heaven,
+    And what with these is by the Muses given
+    Were hers. Here sat she careless how the skies
+    Might darken, or the blasts of winter rise;
+    And here her voice reach'd thee, but by what move
+    Of fate I know not, only that thy love
+    Her voice did win; and now at length behold--
+    And ah, how much the child her arms enfold
+    Is like the mother!--she in tender years
+    The parent of a tender babe appears.
+    What lap, then, for this infant shall I find
+    Fitter than thine, or known by me so kind?
+    Yea, soon as she could speak, the wanton, she
+    Said, 'He shall be my guardian,' meaning thee;
+    And no ill forecast I would deem is this
+    Of Genius true and favouring deities,
+    That she so early should a sire divine
+    Always so open, always so benign.
+    Take, then, thine own--she is beneath thy wing--
+    And of this gift accept the offering.
+    So may Persuasion, who her fount has made
+    Upon thy lips, still pour from thence unstay'd
+    Her sacred honey; so be at the Court,
+    Whereto with plausive wreaths she doth resort,
+    No ears thy Siren move not; so, I pray,
+    No hindering bar thy Tagus strive to stay,
+    Or only such as erst thy stream has swept away.      CL.
+
+
+
+
+ORNATISSIMO VIRO PRAECEPTORI SUO
+
+COLENDISSIMO MAGISTRO BROOK.
+
+
+    O mihi qui nunquam nomen non dulce fuisti,
+      Tunc quoque cum domini fronte timendus eras;
+    Ille ego pars vestri quondam intactissima regni,
+      De nullo virgae nota labore tuae,
+    Do tibi quod de te per secula longa queretur,
+      Quod de me nimium non metuendus eras:
+    Quod tibi turpis ego torpentis inertia sceptri
+      Tam ferulae tulerim mitia jura tuae.
+    Scilicet in foliis quicquid peccabitur istis,
+      Quod tua virga statim vapulet, illud erit;
+    Ergo tibi haec poenas pro me mea pagina pendat.
+      Hic agitur virgae res tibi multa tuae.
+    In me igitur quicquid nimis illa pepercerit olim,
+      Id licet in foetu vindicet omne meo.
+    Hic tuus inveniet satis in quo saeviat unguis,
+      Quodque veru docto trans obeliscus eat:
+    Scilicet haec mea sunt; haec quas mala scilicet: ô si,
+      Quae tua nempe forent, hic meliora forent!
+    Qualiacunque, suum norunt haec flumina fontem--
+      Nilus ab ignoto fonte superbus eat--
+    Nec certe nihil est qua quis sit origine. Fontes
+      Esse solent fluvii nomen honorque sui.
+    Hic quoque tam parvus, de me mea secula dicant,
+      Non parvi soboles hic quoque fontis erat.
+    Hoc modo et ipse velis de me dixisse: Meorum
+      Ille fuit minimus--sed fuit ille meus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THAT MOST CULTURED MAN,
+
+HIS MOST ESTIMABLE TUTOR MASTER BROOK.[132]
+
+    O thou, whose name to me was still endear'd
+    E'en when the master's brow was justly fear'd;
+    I, of thy realm the most inviolate part,
+    By touch of thy birch-rod ne'er taught to smart,
+    Give thee what through long years complains of thee
+    That thou wast not enough a fear to me;
+    That I, base subject of thy sceptre slow,
+    Thy ferule's milder sway should only know.
+    Sooth, in these leaves what faults soe'er thou see,
+    Thy rod in every case should punish'd be.
+    Then let this page for me the suffering pay;
+    Here certainly thy rod may have full play;
+    Howe'er that rod to me was once too mild,
+    It may revenge it all on this my child;
+    Here will thy nail discover where to rage,
+    And scratch a learnèd blot across the page.
+    These which are bad, forsooth, these things are mine;
+    Would they were better, that they might be thine!
+    Whate'er they are, these streams their fountain know,
+    Nile from an unknown fount may proudly go.
+    Not lightly what one's source may be we deem;
+    Fountains give name and honour to their stream.
+    So small--my times perhaps may say of me--
+    An offspring of no fountain small was he.
+    Only to say of me may it be thine:
+    'He was my least indeed--but he was mine!'        R. WI.
+
+
+IN REV. DRE. BROOKE EPITAPHIUM.[133]
+
+    Posuit sub ista, non gravi, caput terra
+    Ille, ipsa quem mors arrogare vix ausa
+    Didicit vereri, plurimumque suspenso
+    Dubitavit ictu, lucidos procul vultus,
+    Et sidus oris acre procul prospectans.
+    Cui literarum fama cum dedit lumen,
+    Accepit, atque est ditior suis donis.
+    Cujus serena gravitas faciles mores
+    Muliere novit; cujus in senectute
+    Famaeque riguit, et juventa fortunae.
+    Ita brevis aevi, ut nec videri festinus;
+    Ita longus, ut nec fessus. Et hunc mori credis?
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH ON REV. DR. BROOK.
+
+    Beneath this earth, strew'd lightly, lies the head
+    Of one whom Death himself had learnt to dread,
+    Scarce venturing to claim; and falter'd much
+    Ere he allow'd his threatening stroke to touch
+    That sacred presence. These bright eyes from far
+    He view'd; from far that face ray'd like a star.
+    On whom when fame of letters lustre drew,
+    He took it as his right, and richer grew
+    By his own gifts to learning; whose serene
+    Severity of manners seem'd to have been
+    Temper'd by woman's softness; whose good name,
+    In later as in early years the same,
+    Stood firm; his fortune equal to his fame.
+    His life so short, that not in haste he seem'd;
+    So long, that weary he might not be deem'd:
+    That such a one is dead, can it be dream'd?       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM IN GULIELMUM HERRISIUM.[134]
+
+
+    Siste te paulum, viator, ubi longum sisti
+    Necesse erit, huc nempe properare te scias quocunque properas.
+                  Morae pretium erit
+                  Et lacrymae,
+                  Si jacere hic scias
+                  Gulielmum
+              Splendidae Herrisiorum familiae
+                  Splendorem maximum:
+              Quem cum talem vixisse intellexeris,
+                  Et vixisse tantum;
+                  Discas licet
+                  In quantas spes possit
+                  Assurgere mortalitas,
+                  De quantis cadere.
+                { Infantem    Essexia     }
+          Quem  { Juvenem     Cantabrigia } vidit
+                  Senem, ah infelix utraque
+                  Quod non vidit.
+                    Qui
+                  Collegii Christi Alumnus
+                  Aulae Pembrokianae socius,
+              Utrique ingens amoris certamen fuit,
+                    Donec
+                  Dulciss. lites elusit Deus,
+                  Eumque coelestis collegii,
+                  Cujus semper alumnus fuit,
+                    socium fecit;
+              Qui et ipse collegium fuit,
+                    In quo
+              Musae omnes et Gratiae,
+                  Nullibi magis sorores,
+                  Sub praeside religione,
+              In tenacissimum sodalitium coaluere.
+               { Oratoria      Oratorem    }
+               { Poetica       Poetam      }
+          Quem { Utraque       Philosophum } agnovere.
+               { Christianum   Omnes       }
+
+               { Fide          Mundum      }
+               { Spe           Coelum      }
+          Qui  { Charitate     Proximum    } superavit.
+               { Humilitate    Seipsum     }
+                            Cujus
+              Sub verna fronte senilis animus,
+              Sub morum facilitate, severitas virtutis;
+        Sub plurima indole, pauci anni;
+        Sub majore modestia, maxima indoles
+              adeo se occuluerunt
+                  ut vitam ejus
+    Pulchram dixeris et pudicam dissimulationem:
+        Imo vero et mortem,
+        Ecce enim in ipso funere
+        Dissimulari se passus est,
+    Sub tantillo marmore tantum hospitem,
+        Eo nimirum majore monumento quo minore tumulo.
+    Eo ipso die occubuit quo Ecclesia
+        Anglicana ad vesperas legit,
+    Raptus est ne malitia mutaret intellectum ejus;
+        Scilicet Id. Octobris anno S. 1631.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH FOR WILLIAM HARRIS.
+
+    Stay thee a short space here, good passer-by,
+                            Upon thy way;
+    Wherein a little while thou too must lie,
+                            Haste as thou may.
+    Certes thou knowest that thy life-long quest
+    Leads hither--to the long, long sleep and rest:
+    Grudge thee not, then, the tribute of a tear,
+    Whilst, ling'ring, to this stone thou drawest near.
+                  It will reward thy stay,
+                It will thy tears repay,
+                        To know
+                        Below
+                        lies
+                        William,
+                Of the family of Harris,
+                The most splendid name
+                Where all have fame.
+    Knowing that such an one did live,
+      And how he liv'd--great, noble, wise--
+    Know how all mortal hopes are fugitive;
+      Height gauging depth with 'Here he lies.'
+               { As infant     Essex     }
+          Whom { As youth      Cambridge } saw.
+    Ah, miserable and lamenting both, that they
+    See not his golden locks in years grow gray!
+                            He was
+                  A student of Christ College,
+                  A fellow of Pembroke Hall:
+                          To have him
+    The two Colleges did strive
+                    In rivalry of love:
+    But the great God put in His negative,
+                    Calling him Above,
+                To gain ampler knowledge
+                In the Heavenly College,
+    Of which he was on earth a student consecrate;
+    So, when Death summon'd him, he went elate.
+                So wise his wit,
+                By genius lit,
+                In himself alone
+                Many in one,
+            You had a College, where
+            Graces and Muses fair
+            With Religion, you might see
+            Twin'd hand in hand in amity.
+
+          { Eloquence as an   Orator      }
+          { Poetry as a       Poet        }
+    Whom  { Each as a         Philosopher } owned:
+          { All as a          Christian   }
+
+          { By faith the      world       }
+          { By hope           Heaven      }
+      Who { By love his       fellow-men  } conquered;
+          { By himself        himself     }
+
+                      Of whom
+    The ripen'd mind under a youthful face;
+    Severest virtue under courtliest grace;
+    Few years his, yet mellow'd as in age;
+    A modesty that did all hearts engage:
+    These self-reveal'd and self-revealing,
+    That all his life seem'd but a fine concealing.
+
+      Yea, ev'n in his death 'twas so;
+      For being thus at length laid low,
+      He chose no boastful tomb to tell
+      How good the life that in him fell:
+        By so much greater is the guest,
+        Smaller the mound where he doth rest:
+        Yea, in his death there was diminution:
+      Great was the guest, but see how small the stone.
+      On that very day he died in which the
+      Church of England reads its even-song:
+      He was snatch'd away, lest the wickedness
+    of the times should contaminate his understanding,
+                viz. 15th October A.S. 1631.[135]
+
+
+IN EUNDEM SCAZON.[136]
+
+    Huc, hospes, oculos flecte, sed lacrimis caecos,
+    Legit optime haec, quem legere non sinit fletus.
+    Ars nuper et natura, forma, virtusque
+    Aemulatione fervidae, paciscuntur
+    Probare uno juvene quid queant omnes,
+    Fuere tantae terra nuper fuit liti,
+    Ergo huc ab ipso Judicem manent coelo.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+    Stranger, bend here thine eyes, but dim with tears;
+    Whom weeping blinds, best reader here appears.
+    Art, Nature, Beauty, Virtue, all agree,
+    Contending late with a warm rivalry,
+    To show what in one youth all join'd would be.
+    So great the strife they caus'd on earth of late,
+    That here from heaven itself the Judge they wait.  R. WI.
+
+
+IN PICTURAM REVERENDISSIMI EPISCOPI
+
+D. ANDREWS.[137]
+
+    Haec charta monstrat, fama quem monstrat magis,
+    Sed et ipsa necdum fama quem monstrat satis;
+    Ille, ille totam solus implevit tubam,
+    Tot ora solus domuit, et famam quoque
+    Fecit modestam: mentis igneae pater
+    Agilique radio lucis aeternae vigil,
+    Per alta rerum pondera indomito vagus
+    Cucurrit animo, quippe naturam ferox
+    Exhausit ipsam mille foetus artibus,
+    Et mille linguis ipse se in gentes procul
+    Variavit omnes, fuitque toti simul
+    Cognatus orbi, sic sacrum et solidum jubar
+    Saturumque coelo pectus ad patrios libens
+    Porrexit ignes: hac eum, lector, vides
+    Hac, ecce, charta ô utinam et audires quoque.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+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. G.
+
+
+A.
+
+Acidalian, ii. 22.
+
+Adult'rous, ii. 144.
+
+Alas, i. 181.
+
+All-Hallow, ii. 59.
+
+All-mischiefe, ii. 59.
+
+Alps, ii. 32.
+
+Ambush, i. 90.
+
+Apricockes, i. 269.
+
+Archer [badly misprinted 'anchor'], i. 176.
+
+Assyrian, ii. 30.
+
+
+B.
+
+Baal-zebub, i. 133.
+
+Bilbilician, ii. 26.
+
+Black-fac'd, ii. 41.
+
+Blossome, i. 28, 207.
+
+Bottles, i. 15.
+
+Brag, ii. 35.
+
+Breakfast, i. 15.
+
+Brisk, i. 15.
+
+Bud, i. 93.
+
+Bulla, ii. 245, 251.
+
+Buried, ii. 72.
+
+
+C.
+
+Cadence, i. 17.
+
+Calls 't, i. 16.
+
+Canary scribblers, i. xlviii.
+
+Case, i. 15.
+
+Cast, ii. 184.
+
+Cast away, ii. 43.
+
+Ceaze, i. 214.
+
+Chaplaine [of Virgin], i. xv.
+
+Cherrimock, i. 267.
+
+Child, ii. 28-9.
+
+Clouds [mortal], i. 90.
+
+Crawles, i. 14.
+
+Cruzzle, i. 15.
+
+
+D.
+
+Deaw, i. 15.
+
+Deliquium, i. 89.
+
+Devil, speaking and dumbe, ii. 140.
+
+Divident, i. 24.
+
+Doome, i. xvi.
+
+
+E.
+
+Ease, i. 15.
+
+Epigram, sacred, ii. 13.
+
+
+F.
+
+Faithful, i. 16.
+
+Fides, ii. 101.
+
+Flight, i. 258.
+
+Fly, i. 175.
+
+Food, ii. 41.
+
+Forlorne, ii. 41.
+
+Forswearing, i. 133.
+
+Fragrant, i. 157.
+
+Fries, i. 118.
+
+Frighted, ii. 144.
+
+Froward, ii. 137.
+
+Full-fac't, ii. 53.
+
+
+G.
+
+Gaie, ii. 43.
+
+Gloomy, ii. 41.
+
+Gold, i. 16.
+
+Golden, ii. 45.
+
+Groves, i. 93.
+
+
+H.
+
+Heaven-burthen'd, ii. 36.
+
+Horn [guilded], i. 89.
+
+Husband-showrs, i. 74.
+
+
+I.
+
+Illustrious, i. 239.
+
+Indifferent, i. 89.
+
+Ite, i. 169.
+
+
+K.
+
+Kist, i. 89.
+
+
+L.
+
+Laces, i. 78.
+
+Large-look't, i. 233.
+
+Least and last, i. 89.
+
+Legible, i. 89.
+
+Lightness, ii. 46.
+
+Lin'age, i. 119.
+
+Looke up, looke downe, ii. 69.
+
+
+M.
+
+May balsame, i. 15.
+
+Med'cinable, i. 15.
+
+Mint, i. 16.
+
+
+N.
+
+Negotiate, i. 90.
+
+Nest, i. 78.
+
+Nightening, i. 43.
+
+Nuzzeld, i. 15.
+
+
+O.
+
+Oblique, i. 90.
+
+Officious, i. 75.
+
+One-mouth'd, ii. 46.
+
+One, owne, i. 24.
+
+
+P.
+
+Paire, i. 17.
+
+Paradise, bird of, i. xv.
+
+Paramours, i. 78.
+
+Pearle-tipt, ii. 79.
+
+Pharian, i. 54.
+
+Phosporos, i. 118.
+
+Points, i. 75.
+
+Posts, i. 123.
+
+Precocious, ii. 12.
+
+Price=prize, i. 90.
+
+Prouoke, i. 16.
+
+Purple, ii. 164.
+
+Pyx, ii. 27.
+
+
+R.
+
+Rampart, i. 253.
+
+Rape, ii. 144.
+
+Rub, i. 68.
+
+
+S.
+
+Sages [sue], i. 92-3.
+
+Sanite, i. 13.
+
+Score, ii. 123.
+
+Seized, i. xlv.
+
+Send, ii. 35.
+
+Seven shares and a half, i. xlvi.
+
+Shadow ['brighter'], i. 91.
+
+Shipwrack, ii. 49.
+
+Silver-forded, footed, i. 14.
+
+Silver-tipt, ii. 144.
+
+Simpering, i. 17.
+
+Sixpenny soule, suburb sinner, i. xlvii.
+
+Sluttish, i. 18.
+
+Staine, ii. 99.
+
+Steely, i. 227.
+
+Stooped, i. 240.
+
+Strings, i. 140.
+
+Subtracts, ii. 12.
+
+Sugar, i. 179.
+
+Sydnæan, i. 256.
+
+
+T.
+
+Then=than, i. 24, _et frequenter_.
+
+Thinne, i. 177.
+
+Threasure, i. 9.
+
+Tree=cross, i. 24, 46.
+
+Trims't, ii. 123.
+
+Twin'd, i. 242.
+
+
+U.
+
+Uncontrouled, i. 242.
+
+Unpearcht, i. 68.
+
+Unwounded, ii. 49.
+
+
+V.
+
+Veronian, ii. 25.
+
+Violls, i. 5. 15.
+
+
+W.
+
+Washt, ii. 81.
+
+Wayd, i. 46.
+
+Wee, i. 14.
+
+White, i. 149; ii. 41, 165.
+
+Wine, i. 28.
+
+Worm, i. 119.
+
+Wrack, ii. 137.
+
+  END OF VOL. II.
+
+
+  Finis.
+
+
+  LONDON:
+
+  ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Crashaw's version is inadvertently inserted here instead of at p.
+201. G.
+
+[2] 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).
+
+[3] Not to be confounded with Handsworth in Staffordshire, or Hensworth
+near Doncaster.
+
+[4] 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.
+
+[5] Mr. Hunter cannot have gone about his inquiries at Handsworth with
+his usual persistence, for he says (as _supra_), '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.
+
+[6] 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.
+
+[7] His Will, as before.
+
+[8] 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.
+
+[9] Communicated to me by Professor Mayor, of Cambridge.
+
+[10] On Alvey, see Brook's Puritans, ii. 85-6.
+
+[11] 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 _of her husband's elder sonne_. 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.'
+
+[12] 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:
+
+    'Her time was short, the longer is her rest;
+    God takes them soonest whom He loveth best;
+    For he that's borne to-day and dyes to-morrow
+    Looseth some dayes of ioy, but yeares of sorrow.'
+
+A fragment of it is in the Dr. Farmer Chetham MS. (as edited by us).
+
+[13] 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.
+
+[14] 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.
+
+[15] 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.'
+
+[16] 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.'
+
+[17] The passage occurs in his Sermon before 'Lord Lawarre' on setting
+out for Virginia (see its title-page _ante_). 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, _and that God
+accounts it abomination for a man to put on woman's apparel_, 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.
+
+[18] 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.
+
+[19] 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.
+
+[20] '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 MS.
+
+[21] 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.
+
+[22] 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.
+
+[23] 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.e._ 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.'
+
+[24] 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.)
+
+[25] 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.
+
+[26] The whole §, pp. 34-37, is full of anecdote and of rare interest,
+and sorrowfully confirmatory of Crashaw's words.
+
+[27] I find I cannot spare room for Cowley's own separate poem on Hope.
+It is in all the editions of his Poems.
+
+[28] 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, _s.n._). Buckingham's mother was
+a fervent Catholic, and here his 'sister,' _i.e._ 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 _supra_).
+
+[29] 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.'
+
+[30] 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: _e.g._ '_Dread Sweet_' (l. 236), and the
+superb 'Something a _brighter shadow_, 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:
+
+    'Awake, my soul, and come away!
+          Put on thy best array;
+          Least if thou longer stay,
+    Thou lose some minitts of so blest a day.
+          Goe run,
+    And bid good-morrow to the sun;
+    Welcome his safe return
+          To Capricorn;
+    And that great Morne
+    Wherein a God was borne,
+    Whose story none can tell,
+    But He whose every word's a miracle.'
+
+  (Our ed. of Bp. Taylor's Poems, pp. 22-3.)
+
+_En passant_, 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.
+
+[31] Cf. vol. i. p. 143.
+
+[32] Like Macaulay in his History of England (1st edition), Dr.
+Macdonald by an oversight speaks of Crashaw as 'expelled from _Oxford_,'
+instead of Cambridge (cf. our vol. i. p. 32).
+
+[33] The Letter of Pope to Mr. Henry Cromwell is in all the editions of
+his Correspondence. Willmott (as before) also gives it _in extenso_. 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.
+
+[34] He also quotes, as complete in themselves and 'best alone,' these
+two lines from No. LI.:
+
+    'This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given;
+    Twas once _look up_, 'tis now look down to heaven.'
+
+Dr. Robert Wilde in his Epitaph upon E.T. has the same idea, and puts it
+quaintly:
+
+    'Reader, didst thou but know what sacred dust
+    Thou tread'st upon, thou'dst judge thyself unjust
+    Shouldst thou neglect a shower of tears to pay,
+    To wash the sin of thy own feet away.
+    That actor in the play, who, looking down
+    When he should cry 'O heaven!' was thought a clown
+    And guilty of a solecism, might have
+    Applause for such an action o'er this grave.
+    Here lies a piece of Heaven; and Heaven one day
+    Will send the best in heaven to fetch't away.'
+
+  (Hunt's edition, p. 30.)
+
+[35] 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:
+
+    La nymphe de ces eaux aperçut Jésus-Christ,
+    Et son pudique front de rougeur se couvrit.'
+
+    The nymph of these waters perceived Jesus Christ,
+    And her modest brow was dyed with shame.
+
+(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
+
+    'Vidit et erubuit nympha pudica Deum.'
+
+'Lympha' is inferior, and a (mis)reading for 'nympha.'
+
+[36] From _Prolusiones_ of Strada.
+
+[37] 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.
+
+[38] 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.
+
+    'They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch.'
+
+(N. and Q. 2d S. v. 449-52.)
+
+[39] 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.'
+
+[40] See our Essay for notice of Lany. G.
+
+[41] See our Essay in the present volume for notices of Lany. G.
+
+[42] Perhaps a virgin-priestess being dedicated is intended. G.
+
+[43] Balaami asinus. CR.
+
+[44] By a singular misprint Barksdale thus reads:
+
+    'The thief which bless'd upon the Cross with Me,' &c. G.
+
+[45] Barksdale thus renders the first couplet:
+
+    'Magdalen! thou prevent'st the morning light; =anticipatest
+    But thy Sun was already in thy sight.'                G.
+
+[46] Phil. i. 23, τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν ἔχων εἰς τὸ ἀναλύσαι.
+
+[47] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'All things subside by their own weight: I think
+    Thy lightness only, Peter, makes thee sink.'
+
+[48] Christi scilicet. C. [The reference is to a runaway slave, whose
+punishment would be crucifixion. G.]
+
+[49] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'After so many miracles done well,
+    He that believes not is a miracle.'
+
+[50] Query: Is there a punning-play on Judas' 'All Hail' (_i.e._ All
+Hallow) before the Betrayal? G.
+
+[51] Cf. Crashaw's own hitherto unpublished poem, amplifying the
+epigram, in 'Airelles,' vol. i. pp. 185-6. G.
+
+[52] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Thou receiv'st and receiv'st not Christ; for He
+    Comes not into thy house, but into thee.'
+
+[53] Barksdale, as before, translates the last couplet thus:
+
+    'Enough! I have seen, have seen my Saviour:
+    Beside Thee, Christ, I would see nothing more.'
+
+[54] Joan. vii. 46.
+
+[55] Cf. our vol. i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[56] See vol. i. pp. 47-8, for Crashaw's own poem enlarging the
+epigram.  G.
+
+[57] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'That Saul was blind, I will not say:
+    Sure Saul was _captus lumine_.'
+
+[58] Ver. 24. Non enim mortua est puella, sed dormit. CR.
+
+[59] For Crashaw's own full rendering of this epigram, see our vol. i.
+pp. 48-9. G.
+
+[60] Barksdale thus renders one couplet:
+
+    'See, O my guests, a Deity is here:
+    The chast nymph saw a God, and blusht for fear.'
+
+For Dryden's and others, see our Essay in this volume. G.
+
+[61] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'To see Christ was first in my desire:
+    Next, having seen Thee, forthwith to expire.'
+
+[62] Barksdale, as before, inserts an anonymous epigram on the same
+subject as _supra_, being the only one not by Crashaw in the volume. It
+is as follows: '40. Mulier Canaanitis. Matt. 15. _Femina tam fortis,
+&c._
+
+    'O woman, how great is that faith of thine!
+    _Fides_ more than a grammar's feminine.'
+
+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: _Hic mulier_ ere long will be good Latin'
+(pp. 5, 6). G.
+
+[63] For Crashaw's own rendering of this epigram or poem, see our vol.
+i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[64] Cf. St. Matt. iv. 3. G.
+
+[65] Joan. xix. 41. ἐν ᾧ οὐδέπω οὐδεὶς ἐτέθη CR.
+
+[66] Ver. 2. σεισμὸς ἐγένετο μέγας. CR.
+
+[67] Ver. 4. ἐσείσθησαν οἱ τηροῦντες, καὶ ἐγένοντο ὥσει νεκροί. CR.
+
+[68] Barksdale, as before, renders the closing couplet thus:
+
+    'Is He the Christ? And the inquiry is
+    Of Himself? Why, the dumb can answer this.'
+
+[69] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[70]
+
+    Or--To the Jews it is not fire,
+        Yet the name best tells Heav'n's ire.    G.
+
+[71] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'Most worthy nest this for the Bird above;
+    Most worthy of this nest is th' holy Dove.' G.
+
+[72] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[73] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'These loaves of Christ are well bestow'd: if fed
+    With these, they hunger after living bread.' G.
+
+[74] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'By your opposing force, Greeks, what is meant?
+    That you have no convincing argument.' G.
+
+[75] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[76] Barksdale, as before, renders the opening couplet. G.
+
+[77] = reckoning or debt to be paid. G.
+
+[78] By an oversight Willmott renders _ora_ 'regions' instead of
+'eyes.'  G.
+
+[79] Barksdale thus renders the second couplet:
+
+    'This house a stable! No: Thy blessèd birth,
+    Jesus, converts it to a heaven on earth.'      G.
+
+[80] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'John is Christ's flame; Domitian, in thine ire,
+    Canst thou e'er hope with oil to extinguish fire?'    G.
+
+[81] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'Do, Dragon, do, thy snakes together call,
+    That by Christ's virtue they may perish all.'      G.
+
+[82] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Shine forth, my Sun: soon as Thy beams are felt,
+    Thy gracious healing beams, my snow will melt.'      G.
+
+[83] Ver. 31. Sustulerunt lapides. CR.
+
+[84] ... Et continuo exivit sanguis et aqua. CR.
+
+[85] Act. i. Nubes susceptum eum abstulit. CR.
+
+[86] Crashaw must have stopped short in his Greek version of the present
+and succeeding epigram. G.
+
+[87] Rev. i. 16. CR.
+
+[88] Is the allusion to Peter's following 'afar off,' and after-denial
+of the Lord? G.
+
+[89] The allusion in l. 5 is to wrestlers anointing themselves to
+prevent their adversaries grasping them. R. WI.
+
+[90] 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.
+
+[91] This was overlooked in its proper place as Crashaw's own rendering
+of Epigram VI. p. 39. G.
+
+[92] LVI. and LVII. from Tanner MSS., as before. G.
+
+[93] Ecclesia. CR.
+
+[94] Cf. Wordsworth's 'A faculty for storms' ('Happy Warrior'). G.
+
+[95] MS. 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 MS. G.
+
+[96] I have ventured to supply a connecting line in place of the
+pentameter here dropt out; which might have been something like this:
+
+    'Inque brevi vita splendida facta micent.' R. WI.
+
+[97] From 'The Recommendation' illustration in 'Carmen D. nostro'
+(Paris, 1652). See vol. i. in 4to, p. 43. G.
+
+[98] See Illustration (in 4to) by Mrs. Blackburn to ll. 13-14 as
+vignette in Essay. G.
+
+[99] Query, in the heading (Latin), 'In Apolline_m_'? but 'Apolline_a_'
+is in all the texts. G.
+
+[100] 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.
+
+[101] In agro Sudovolgorum.
+
+[102] Nomen Elda (_Cancrorum idiomate_) [backwards].
+
+[103] Pretium annuum haud invidendum, XX_s._
+
+[104] Patibulo, quod tribus constat lignis, arrectariis binis, et trabe
+transversa.
+
+[105] Quattuor, quia equus quadrupes videbatur in eam sententiam quasi
+pedibus ire.
+
+[106] Vulgo acquietantia.
+
+[107] Organum est librite hydrobapticum ad omnium ripas situm, linguæ
+fervore refrigerando.
+
+[108] The Common Pleas in Westminster Hall.
+
+[109] A writ.
+
+[110] The return of the writ [the morrow of All Souls].
+
+[111] The plaintiff.
+
+[112] 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!
+
+[113] It is not easy to bring-out the play on _terga dabit_--'terga
+dare' being equivalent to 'fugere'--and yet indicative of the boy's
+punishment on the back of the whipping-horse.
+
+[114] Alluding to Pegasus, and the fountain caused by stroke of hoof.
+
+[115] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i., and our Essay in the present
+Volume, for notices of Brooke. G.
+
+[116] 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.
+
+[117] '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, _John Mansel_, Doctor of Divinitie, and a generall schollare
+in all good literature." (Weever, _Fun. Mon._ 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
+(MS. 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.
+
+[118] See notice of Heath in note to the translation. G.
+
+[119] '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 '_Lord_ 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.
+
+[120] 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.
+
+[121] The following is a note of Charles I.'s family:
+
+Charles James, born May 13, 1628; died same day.
+
+Charles, born May 29, 1630; afterwards Charles II.
+
+Mary, born November 4, 1631; afterwards mother of William III.
+
+James, born October 14, 1633; afterwards James II., probably the unborn
+child of this poem.
+
+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,
+_s.n._).
+
+Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; died December 8, 1640.
+
+Henry, born July 8, 1640; afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of
+Cambridge.
+
+Henrietta-Anne, born June 16, 1644. G.
+
+[122] 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.
+
+[123] See note to preceding poem. From Voces Votivæ &c. (see Preface to
+this volume). G.
+
+[124] From 'Delights of the Muses,' 1648, pp. 47-8; not in Turnbull. G.
+
+[125] Turnbull gives simply as the heading 'Natales Principis Mariae.'
+The date is Nov. 4, 1631. This Princess was born Nov. 4, 1631. G.
+
+[126] From Tanner MS., as before; hitherto unprinted. See note to
+preceding poem. G.
+
+[127] 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.
+
+[128] On 'Peterhouse' see our Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and Essay
+in the present volume. G.
+
+[129] See Memorial-Introd. vol. i., and Essay in the present vol. as
+below. G.
+
+[130] Apparently the churches in the gift of the College. W.
+
+[131] 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.
+
+[132] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and our Essay, for notices of
+Brooke; also present volume for other poems, &c. addressed to him. G.
+
+[133] 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 _ante_. G.
+
+[134] 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.
+
+[135] 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.
+
+[136] From 'Delights of the Muses,' after 'Upon the Death of Mr. Herrys'
+(of vol. i. pp. 220-1). Not given by Turnbull. G.
+
+[137] For Crashaw's own translation of this see vol. i. p. 217. G.
+
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD
+CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume
+II (of 2), by Richard Crashaw, Edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+
+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 www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Richard Crashaw
+
+Editor: Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+Release Date: January 13, 2012  [eBook #38550]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD
+CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has Volume I of this work.
+      See http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38549
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft
+
+
+Transcriber' note:
+
+      A character following a carat is supercripted (example:
+      y^e). When two or more characters are superscripted they
+      are enclosed in curly brackets (example: D^{ris}).
+
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+ESSAY ON LIFE AND WRITINGS.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA ET POEMATA LATINA: TRANSLATED FOR THE
+FIRST TIME. GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London:
+Robson and Sons, Printers, Pancras Road, N.W.
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+For the First Time Collected
+and Collated with the Original and Early Editions,
+and Much Enlarged with
+
+    I. Hitherto unprinted and inedited Poems from Archbishop Sancroft's
+        MSS. &c. &c.
+   II. Translation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata.
+  III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes.
+   IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own
+       Illustrations of 1652, with others specially prepared.
+
+Edited by the
+
+REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART,
+
+St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Printed for Private Circulation.
+1873.
+
+156 copies printed.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+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.
+Pre�minently I owe thanks to my 'brother beloved,' the Rev. RICHARD
+WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory, Market Weighton.
+
+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. HOLDEN, Ipswich, Rev. Dr.
+JESSOPP, Norwich, and W. ALDIS WRIGHT, 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.
+
+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.
+
+(_a_) Anthologia in Regis exanthemata; seu gratulatio Musarum
+Cantabrigiensium de felicissime conservata Regis Caroli valetudine,
+1632.
+
+(_b_) Ducis Eboracensis Fasciae a Musis Cantabrigiensibus raptim
+contextae, 1633.
+
+(_c_) Rex Redux; sive Musa Cantabrigiensis Voti ... et felici reditu
+Regis Caroli post receptam coronam comitaque peracta in Scotia, 1633.
+
+(_d_) Carmen Natalitium ad cunas illustrissimae Principis Elizabethae
+decantatum intra Nativitatis Dom. solemnia per humiles Cantabrigiae
+Musas, 1635.
+
+(_e_) {Syn�dia}, sive Musarum Cantabrigiensium concentus et
+congratulatio ad serenissimum Britanniarum Regem Carolum de quinta sua
+sobole clarissima Principe sibi nuper felicissime nata, 1637.
+
+(_f_) Voces votivae ab Academicis Cantabrigiensibus pro novissimo Caroli
+et Mariae Principe Filio emissae, 1640.
+
+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.
+
+By the liberality of F. MADOX-BROWN, 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 W.J. LINTON, Esq. and Mrs. BLACKBURN 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. CHARLES ROBSON (of my Printers), one of the old
+learned school, has co�perated 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 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.
+
+  A.B.G.
+
+  Park View, Blackburn, Lancashire,
+  March 4, 1873.
+
+P.S. Three small overlooked items bearing on Crashaw having been
+recovered from a missing Note-book, I add them here.
+
+(_a_) 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 _Richard Bently_, _Jacob Tonson_, _Francis
+Saunders_, and _Tho. Bennett_.' It is from the same type, and identical
+in every way except the fresh title-page, with the (so-called) '2d
+Edition.'
+
+(_b_) 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:
+
+                    'Soft, sir,--stand!
+    You are arraign'd for theft; hold up your hand.
+    Impudent theft as ever was exprest,
+    Not to steal jewels only, but the chest;
+    Not to nib bits of gold from Crashaw's lines,
+    But swoop whole strikes together from his mynes.'
+
+Another piece, 'The Promise. To F.L. Esq., with Crashaw's Poems (1653),'
+has nothing quotable.
+
+(_c_) 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. G.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    As neither Crashaw nor his early Editors furnished Contents to the
+    Epigrammata et Poemata, we are left free to decide thereon; and
+    inasmuch as (_a_) our translations are intended to make Vol. II. as
+    generally accessible and understood as Vol. I, and as (_b_) 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. G.
+
+
+I. SACRED EPIGRAMS, 1-164. 1634-1670.
+
+                                                           TRANS.      PAGE
+
+Note                                                                      2
+
+�        Dedication: Latin, pp. 7-11; English              G., CL.       11
+
+�        To the Reader: Latin, pp. 16-22; English          G.            22
+
+*     1. Two went up into the Temple to pray               CR., B.       35
+
+      2. Upon the asse that bore our Saviour               CR., G.       36
+
+      3. The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own
+         people                                            B.            37
+
+�     4. The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda               CL., G.       37
+
+�     5. Christ to Thomas                                  CL., A.       38
+
+      6. Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall
+         find it                                           A., CR.  39, 206
+
+�     7. Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark,
+         cometh unto the sepulchre                         G.            40
+
+�     8. On the miracle of multiplyed loaves               G.            40
+
+      9. On the baptized Ethiopian                         CR., B.       41
+
+     10. The publican standing afar off, smote on his
+         breast                                            G.            42
+
+*�   11. The widow's mites                                 CR.           43
+
+�    12. Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard
+         His word                                          G.            43
+
+�    13. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.            44
+
+     14. On the Prodigall                                  CR.           45
+
+     15. I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye[1]    CR., G.       45
+
+�    16. On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms      CL.           46
+
+�    17. When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid,
+         &c.                                               G.            46
+
+�    18. He offered them money                             CL.           47
+
+�    19. The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick            G.            47
+
+     20. The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned
+         silence                                           CR., G.       48
+
+     21. And a certaine priest comming that way looked on
+         him, &c.                                          CR., G., A.   49
+
+�    22. The ungrateful lepers                             G.            50
+
+�    23. Be ye not fretted about to-morrow                 G., A.        51
+
+�    24. Matthew called from the receipt of custom         R. WI.        52
+
+�    25. The dead son re-delivered to his mother           CL.           52
+
+     26. It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.  CR., G.       53
+
+�    27. The man ill of dropsy cured                       G.            54
+
+�    28. There was no room for them in the Inn             G.            55
+
+     29. Upon Lazarus his teares                           CR., G.       55
+
+�    30. Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the
+         Christ                                            G.            56
+
+�    31. But though He had done so many miracles, &c.      CL.           56
+
+�    32. To S. Andrew, fisherman                           G.            57
+
+�    33. I am the voice                                    G.            57
+
+�    34. The chains spontaneously fall off                 G.            58
+
+�    35. On All-Saints' Day                                R. WI.        58
+
+     36. Upon the Powder-day                               CR.           59
+
+�    37. God in the Virgin's womb                          R. WI.        59
+
+�    38. To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen             G.            61
+
+�    39. St. John in exile                                 G.            61
+
+     40. To the infant martyrs                             CR., B.       62
+
+�    41. The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus                    G.            63
+
+     42. I am not worthy, &c.                              CR.           63
+
+     43. And He answered them nothing                      CR., G.       64
+
+�    44. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           65
+
+�    45. The Word among thorns                             G.            65
+
+�    46. The Judaic and Christian Sabbath                  G.            66
+
+     47. The blind cured by the word of our Saviour        CR.           67
+
+�    48. My burden is light                                G.            67
+
+     49. On the miracle of loaves                          CR., R. WI.   67
+
+�    50. Now we know Thee to have a devil                  G.            68
+
+     51. On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness               CR.           69
+
+�    52. On the wounds of our crucified Lord               R. WI.        69
+
+�    53. Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?      G.            71
+
+*    54. Come, see the place where the Lord lay
+         Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord                    CR.           72
+
+�    55. The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)      G.            72
+
+     56. On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's
+         wounds                                            CR., G.       73
+
+     57. The sick implore St. Peter's shadow               CR., G.       74
+
+�    58. Why are ye troubled? Behold My hands, &c.         G.            75
+
+�    59. The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, &c.     G.            75
+
+�    60. From his body there were brought ...
+         handkerchiefs, &c.                                R. WI.        76
+
+�    61. Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father         G.            76
+
+�    62. Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.      CL.           77
+
+     63. But men loved darkness rather than light          CR., B., G.   77
+
+     64. Dives asking a drop                               CR.           78
+
+�    65. How can a man be born when he is old?             R. WI.        79
+
+�    66. The tree dried up by the word of Christ           G.            80
+
+�    67. Zacharias incredulous                             CL.           80
+
+     68. On the water of our Lord's baptisme               CR., B.       81
+
+�    69. The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, &c.      G.            81
+
+�    70. Neither durst any man ... ask Him any more
+         questions                                         G.            82
+
+     71. St. John and his mother                           B.            82
+
+     72. If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down      B.            83
+
+     73. The Lord weeping over the Jews                    B.            83
+
+�    74. Nor even as this publican                         G.            84
+
+�    75. On Saul blinded with too much light               R. WI.        84
+
+     76. Blessed are the eyes which see                    B., G.        85
+
+�    77. Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier
+                                                           R. WI.        85
+
+�    78. On the wise of this world                         R. WI.        86
+
+�    79. The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a
+         precipice                                         G.            87
+
+�    80. The casting down of the dragon                    G.            87
+
+�    81. The blessed Virgin believing                      G.            87
+
+�    82. Is it lawful to give tribute to C�sar?            G.            88
+
+�    83. The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the
+         dead                                              G.            89
+
+     84. The fishermen called                              B., G., A.    89
+
+     85. Give to C�sar ... and to God                      CR., G.       90
+
+     86. The Lord borne on the ass                         B., R. WI.    90
+
+�    87. They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud   G.            91
+
+�    88. Except I shall put my fingers, &c.                G.            91
+
+�    89. To the Jews stoning Stephen                       G.            92
+
+�    90. To St. John the beloved disciple                  G.            92
+
+     91. Upon the infant martyrs                           CR., G.       93
+
+�    92. God with us                                       G.            93
+
+     93. The circumcision of Christ: Vol. I. pp. 48-9;
+         and                                               CR.           94
+
+�    94. The Epiphany of our Lord                          CL.           94
+
+�    95. Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.                      G.            95
+
+     96. Water turned into wine                            G., CL., A.   96
+
+�    97. The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant,
+         &c.                                               G.            97
+
+     98. Why are ye so fearful?                            B.            97
+
+�    99. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           98
+
+�   100. Good seed in the field                            G.            99
+
+    101. She began to wash His feet, &c.                   CR., CL.      99
+
+�   102. What seekest that I do to thee?                   G.           100
+
+�   103. The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan      G.           101
+
+    104. Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked        CR.          101
+
+�   105. Christ the Vine (including the branches)          G.           102
+
+    106. Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and
+         lament                                            CR.          102
+
+    107. Christ the good Shepherd                          B., CL.      103
+
+    108. On the wounds of the crucified Lord               CR., G.      104
+
+�   109. The paralytic healed                              G.           104
+
+�   110. Then took they up stones                          G.           105
+
+�   111. On the Resurrection of the Lord                   R. WI.       105
+
+�   112. But some doubted                                  R. WI.       106
+
+�   113. The scars of the wounds which the Lord
+         showed, &c.                                       G.           106
+
+�   114. John sends to Jesus, &c.                          CL.          107
+
+    115. On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare         CR.          108
+
+    116. The withered hand healed                          G., B.       108
+
+    117. To Pontius washing his hands                      CR., B.      108
+
+�   118. The stater-giving fish                            G.           109
+
+    119. I have overcome the world                         B., A.       110
+
+�   120. On the ascension of our Lord                      R. WI.       111
+
+*�  121. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.           112
+
+�   122. God so loved the world, that He gave His
+         ... Son                                           R. WI.       112
+
+�   123. I have bought five yoke of oxen                   G.           113
+
+�   124. St. Paul healing the lame man with a word, &c.    R. WI.       113
+
+*   125. To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of
+         Christ                                            W.           114
+
+�   126. The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter     G.           115
+
+    127. The Pharisees murmured, &c.                       G., B.       116
+
+�   128. On the beam of the Pharisee                       R. WI.       116
+
+�   129. They determined ... he should be put out
+         of the synagogue                                  A.           117
+
+    130. Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee      CL., B.      117
+
+�   131. To the guests at the miraculous supper of the
+         five loaves                                       R. WI.       118
+
+�   132. Christ overcoming the world                       G.           119
+
+    133. The Grecian disputants go about to kill St.
+         Paul                                              R. WI.       119
+
+�   134. He that is greatest among you, let him be as
+         the younger                                       B.           120
+
+�   135. He beheld the city, and wept over it              R. WI.       120
+
+    136. Christ in Egypt                                   R. WI.       121
+
+�   137. The blind confessing Christ, &c.                  G., B.       121
+
+    138. If any man will come after Me, &c.                G.           122
+
+    139. And he left all ... and followed Him              B., G.       122
+
+    140. Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets           CR., G.      123
+
+�   141. The man with the withered hand, &c.               G.           123
+
+�   142. Luke the beloved physician                        B., A.       124
+
+    143. The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ        G.           125
+
+    144. To the assembly of all the S                      W., A.       125
+
+�   145. Christ heals in absence                           CL.          127
+
+�   146. The man born blind                                B., A.       127
+
+�   147. And they laughed at Him                           G.           127
+
+�   148. The wisdom of the world                           CL.          128
+
+*�  149. On the stable where our Lord was born             A.           128
+
+�   150. St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument  CL.          130
+
+�   151. On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a
+         caldron, &c.                                      CL.          130
+
+�   152. The infant-martyrs                                G.           131
+
+�   153. They brought unto Him all sick people, &c.        R. WI.       131
+
+�   154. A sword shall pierce through thy own soul         G.           132
+
+�   155. On the blood of the Lord's circumcision           R. WI.       133
+
+�   156. The Child Jesus among the doctors                 R. WI.       134
+
+    157. To our Lord, upon the water made wine             CR., G.      135
+
+�   158. The Infant Christ is presented to the Father
+         in the Temple                                     R. WI.       135
+
+�   159. The leper beseeching                              G.           136
+
+    160. Why are ye afraid?                                CR., B.      137
+
+�   161. They teach customs, &c.                           R. WI.       138
+
+*�  162. Command that this stone become a loaf             G.           139
+
+    163. The woman of Canaan                               R. WI.       139
+
+    164. Upon the dumbe devill cast out, &c.               CR.          140
+
+�   165. They said, This is of a truth that Prophet        R. WI.       141
+
+�   166. It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's
+         porch                                             R. WI.       141
+
+�   167. They gave large money to the soldiers             R. WI.       142
+
+�   168. To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic
+         salutation                                        R. WI.       143
+
+    169. To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands        CR.          144
+
+�   170. On the day of the Lord's Passion                  R. WI.       144
+
+�   171. On the day of the Lord's Resurrection, &c.        A.           146
+
+�   172. On the scars of the Lord still remaining          R. WI.       147
+
+�   173. My peace I give unto you                          R. WI.       149
+
+�   174. Paul's conversion and blindness                   CL.          149
+
+�   175. I am the Way, &c.                                 R. WI.       150
+
+�   176. On the night and winter journey of the Infant
+         Lord                                              R. WI.       150
+
+�   177. I do not say that I will pray the Father for
+         you                                               A.           157
+
+*�  178. On the day of the Lord's Ascension                R. WI.       159
+
+*�  179. The blind man implores Christ                     R. WI.       160
+
+*�  180. What man of you having an hundred sheep, &c.      R. WI.       161
+
+*�  181. To Herod beheading St. James                      R. WI.       162
+
+*�  182. The blind men having received their sight, &c.    R. WI.       163
+
+*   183. Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree                     R. WI.       164
+
+    184. On our crucified Lord, naked and bloody           CR.          164
+
+    185. Sampson to his Dalilah                            CR.          164
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS, 165-6.
+
+      1. Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice'
+         and 'The Broken Heart'                                         165
+
+      2. Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, &c.                                  165
+
+      3. On marriage                                                    165
+
+      4. On Nanus mounted upon an ant                                   165
+
+      5. Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes                           166
+
+      6. Vpon the same                                                  166
+
+      7. Out of Martiall                                                166
+
+
+II. SACRED EPIGRAMS, NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 167-205.
+
++�    1. St. Paul and the viper                            G.           169
+
++�    2. The miracle of the loaves                         G.           169
+
++�    3. Of the tears of the suffering Christ              G.           170
+
++�    4. The sepulchre of the Lord                         G.           171
+
++�    5. The parting words of Love                         G.           172
+
++�    6. Herod devoured of worms                           G.           172
+
++�    7. It is good to be here                             G.           173
+
++�    8. Look on the lilies, &c.                           R. WI.       173
+
++�    9. The deaf healed                                   R. WI.       173
+
++�   10. The modesty of the blessed Virgin                 G.           174
+
++�   11. I send you as lambs, &c.                          G.           174
+
++�   12. Christ carried by the devil                       G.           175
+
++�   13. St. John the Baptist a voice                      G.           175
+
++�   14. John the Voice, Christ the Word                   G.           176
+
++�   15. On the birth of the Lord, &c.                     G.           176
+
++�   16. Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians        G.           177
+
++�   17. I am the True Vine                                G.           178
+
++�   18. The departure of Christ lamented, &c.             G.           178
+
++�   19. On the descent of the Holy Spirit                 R. WI.       179
+
++�   20. Life and Death                                    G.           179
+
++    21. I am the Doore                                    CR., G.      180
+
++    22. Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's
+         head, &c.                                         CR., G.      181
+
++�   23. Nicodemus                                         G.           181
+
++�   24. To Domitian, concerning St. John, &c.             R. WI.       183
+
++�   25. The voice of the Baptist                          G.           183
+
++�   26. On St. Peter loosed by the angel                  R. WI.       184
+
++    27. On St. Peter casting away his nets, &c.           CR., G.      184
+
++�   28. The Lamb of God, &c.                              G.           185
+
++�   29. The miraculous draught of fishes                  G.           186
+
++�   30. Lord, not my feet only, &c.                       G.           186
+
++�   31. Though they beheld so many miracles, &c.          G.           186
+
++�   32. On the cloud which received the Lord              R. WI.       187
+
++�   33. He saw the city, and wept over it                 G.           188
+
++�   34. Nor even as this publican                         R. WI.       189
+
++�   35. His Disciples came and awoke Him                  R. WI.       189
+
++�   36. The woman of Canaan                               G.           189
+
++�   37. Wherefore sitteth your Master with sinners, &c.   G.           191
+
++�   38. Miracles of healing, &c.                          G.           191
+
++�   39. To St. Luke the physician                         R. WI.       192
+
++�   40. He bears His own cross                            G.           193
+
++    41. Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse, &c.   CR., G.      194
+
++�   42. And they spat upon Him                            G.           194
+
++�   43. He besought that He would go with him, &c.        G.           194
+
++�   44. For dread came upon him, &c.                      G.           196
+
++    45. But now they have seen and hated                  CR., G.      196
+
++�   46. The blind suppliant                               G.           197
+
++�   47. The Pharisees insidiously watching, &c.           G.           199
+
++�   48. Touched the hem of His garment, &c.               R. WI.       200
+
++�   49. The departing Saviour                             R. WI.       200
+
++�   50. Paul unfearing [page 45, and]                     G.           201
+
++�   51. The message of the Baptist to Christ              R. WI.       202
+
++�   52. Gifts to Jesus                                    R. WI.       202
+
++�   53. On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition          R. WI.       203
+
++    54. Upon our Saviour's tombe, &c.                     CR., G.      204
+
++�   55. On the Holy Spirit descending, &c.                R. WI.       205
+
++    56. Life for death                                    CR.          205
+
++�   57. On the Divine love                                CR.          205
+
+
+III. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED, 207-218.
+
+�        Faith, which alone justifies, exists not without
+         hope and love                                     G.           209
+
+�        Baptism cancels not after-sins                    CL.          216
+
+
+IV. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 219-242.
+
++        Psalm 1.                                                       221
+
++�       Wrath of the judgment-whirlwind                   R. WI.       221
+
++�       Even so: come, Lord Jesus                         R. WI.       223
+
++�       Circumcision of Christ                            R. WI.       225
+
++�       The Virgin Mary, on losing the Child Jesus        R. WI.       229
+
++�       War in heaven                                     R. WI.       231
+
++�       We do not receive, but make, a short life         R. WI.       233
+
++�       Martyrs                                           R. WI.       235
+
++�       Hope                                              R. WI.       237
+
++�       On Stephen's crown                                R. WI.       239
+
+�        Jesus Christ's expostulation with an ungrateful
+         world                                             R. WI.       241
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 243-92.
+
+I. _From 'Steps to the Temple' and 'Delights of the Muses.'_
+
+�        The Bubble                                        G.           247
+
+�        Peace of mind, under the similitude of a captive
+         song-bird                                         G.           258
+
+�        Gain out of loss                                  G.           263
+
+�        Description of human life                         R. WI.       266
+
+�        On Pygmalion                                      A., G.       269
+
+�        Arion                                             G.           273
+
+�        On Apollo pining for Daphne                       G.           279
+
+�        �neas the bearer of his father                    G.           283
+
+�        Of the generation and regeneration of the Phoenix  G.          284
+
+�        Epitaph                                           A., G.       286
+
+�        Elegy                                             R. WI.       289
+
+�        Woman a treasury of evils                         G.           290
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 293-330.
+
+II. _Miscellaneous and Commemorative._
+
++�       The beautiful not lasting                         G.           296
+
++�       A hymn to Venus                                   G.           300
+
++�       A description of Spring                           R. WI.       303
+
++�       Priscianus beaten and being beaten                R. WI.       308
+
++�       To a Tractate on this subject, &c.                R. WI.       315
+
++        Purgation                                                      317
+
++�       To my most estimable preceptor ... R. Brooke      R. WI.       319
+
+�        On death of Rev. Dr. Mansell                      R. WI.       323
+
+�        To the Right Hon. Lord Robert Heath, on being
+         made a judge, &c.                                 R. WI.       326
+
++        Ode on Horace, Lib. ii. 13, in Greek                           329
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 331-84.
+
+III. _Royal and Academical._
+
+�        The Return of the King                            A.           333
+
+�        To the royal Infant not yet born                  R. WI.       335
+
+�        To the King on recovery from small-pox            R. WI.       337
+
+�        To her serene Majesty child-bearing in winter     R. WI.       339
+
+�        To the Queen                                      CL.          342
+
+�        To the Queen ... from the university              R. WI.       345
+
+�        On birth of Princess Mary                         CL.          346
+
++�       On the same                                       R. WI.       350
+
+�        To the Queen                                      R. WI.       354
+
+�        The prayer of Peterhouse for the House of God
+         [=its chapel]                                     S.S.         357
+
+�        A groan on occasion of the difficult parturition
+         of the remaining works of Peterhouse              R. WI., G.   362
+
+�        To the venerable man, Master Tournay, &c.         CL.          371
+
+�        To Master Brooke                                  R. WI.       374
+
+�        Epitaph on Dr. Brooke                             R. WI.       376
+
+�        Epitaph on William Herries                        G.           378
+
+�        On the same                                       R. WI.       383
+
+�        On the Portrait of Bishop Andrewes                CR.          384
+
+
+Glossarial Index                                                        385
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. II. 4TO.
+
+Photograph of the Cartoon for the memorial-window to
+Crashaw in Peterhouse, by F. Madox-Brown, Esq. R.A.    _facing title-page._
+
+The captive Song-bird, by Mrs. Blackburn               _vignette to Essay._
+
+Vignette illustrations, by W.J. Linton, Esq. _pp._  96, 242, 251, 295, 329,
+                                                             350, 373, 377.
+
+
+
+
+ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND POETRY OF CRASHAW.[2]
+
+
+In our Memorial-Introduction (vol. i. p. xxvi.) we make two promises,
+which fall now to be redeemed:
+
+(_a_) A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+(_b_) A MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D., HIS FATHER.
+
+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.
+
+
+I. MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D.
+
+The late laborious and accurate Joseph Hunter, in his MS. collections
+yclept Chorus Vatum, which by rare good fortune are preserved in the
+British Museum (Addl. MSS. 24.487, pp. 34-39), thus begins, _s.n._
+
+'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 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.'
+
+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
+'_his own_' otherwise--though in strong, even fierce, antagonism as
+Divine and Writer to his gentle-natured son's after-opinions.
+
+Hitherto, in the brief and meagre notices of his son, and of the
+paternal Crashaw, it has simply been stated that he was a
+'_Yorkshireman_.' 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 MSS., 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.[3]
+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:
+
+'1572, October 26th, WILL., 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 Eairl [_sic_] 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.
+
+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.[4] That we are right in all this is made
+certain by his Will, wherein our Crashaw (_pater_) 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.'[5] So far as I can
+gather from several family-tables which have been furnished to me,
+_the_ 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: _e.g._ 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.[6] Our Worthy had life-long intercourse and life-long
+friendships with the foremost in Yorkshire, as his Will genially and
+quaintly testifies.
+
+Fatherless in his 13th-14th year, his widowed mother must have been in
+circumstances pecuniarily that enabled her to have William, at least,
+'_prepared_' for the University. He was of renowned 'St. John's,'
+Cambridge, designated by him his 'deere nurse and spirituall mother.'[7]
+A MS. 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 D�a Fundatrice, authoritate Regia, sede vacante Epi. Elien. 19 Jan.
+1593.'[8] Such is the 'entry' as given by Baker; 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.e._ 1593-4]. The
+Bishop of Ely had the right of nominating one Fellow.[9] 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 '_deprived_' of a 'little vicarage' ('A Discourse on Popish
+Corruptions requiring a Kingly Reformation:' MS. in Royal Library).
+Inquiries at Bridlington, 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.
+
+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.'
+
+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.'[10] 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 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.
+
+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 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 _to the child of her
+predecessor_--a rare vertue [as he noted] in step-mothers at this
+day.'[11] 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.[12]
+
+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.[13] Next
+is this: 'The Parable of Poyson. In Five 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' (Scotic�), 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 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.
+
+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 _by others_--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 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 _my sonne Richarde_ executors of my Will' (10th June
+1622).[14]
+
+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 C�sar 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. Bononi� &c.' (1613), to
+Shakespeare's Earl of Southampton, _as to a trusted friend_, 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.
+
+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;' '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.
+
+
+TO OUR LADY OF HALL AND THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    'My thoughts are at a stand, of milke and blood,
+      Delights of brest and side, which yeelds most good;
+    And say, when on the teates mine eyes I cast,
+      O Lady, of thy brest I beg a taste.
+    But if mine eyes upon the wounds doe glide,
+      Then, Jesu, I had rather sucke Thy side.
+    Long have I mused, now knowe I where to rest;
+      For with my right hand I will graspe the brest,
+    If so I may presume: as for the wounds,
+      With left He catch them; thus my zeale abounds.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'Mother and Son, give eare to what I crave,
+      I beg this milke, that bloud, and both would have.
+    Youngling, that in Thy mother's armes art playing,
+      Sucking her brest sometimes, and sometimes staying,
+    Why dost Thou view me with that looke of scorne?
+      'Tis forceless envie that 'gainst Thee is borne.
+    Oft hast Thou said, being angry at my sinne,
+      Darest thou desire the teates My food lyes in?
+    I will not, oh I dare not, golden Child;
+      My mind from feare is not so farre exild:
+    But one, even one poore drop I doe implore
+      From Thy right hand or side, I ask no more.
+    If neither, from Thy left hand let one fall;
+      Nay from Thy foot, rather than none at all:
+    If I displease Thee, let Thy wounds me wound,
+      But pay my wage if I in grace be found.'
+
+Finally:
+
+    'But ah, I thirst; ah, droght my breath doth smother,
+      Quench me with blood, sweet Son; with milk, good mother
+    Say to Thy mother, See My brother's thirst;
+      Mother, your milke will ease him at the first.
+    Say to thy Son, Behold Thy brother's bands;
+      Sweet Son, Thou hast his ransome in Thy hands.
+    Shew Thy redeeming power to soules opprest,
+      Thou Sonne, if that Thy blood excel the rest.
+    And shew Thyselfe justly so stilde indeed,
+      Thou mother, if thy brests the rest exceed.
+    Ah, when shall I with these be satisfi'd?
+      When shall I swimme in joyes of brest and side?
+    Pardon, O God, mine eager earnestnesse,
+      If I Thy lawes and reason's bounds transgresse;
+    Where thirst o're-swayes, patience is thrust away:
+      Stay but my thirst, and then my cryes will stay.
+    I am better then Thy nailes; yet did a streame
+      Of Thy deere bloud wash both the lance and them.
+    More worthy I then clouts; yet them a flood
+      Moistened of mother's milke and of Son's blood.'
+
+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 Anim� 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:
+
+    'In silence of a Winter's night,
+    A sleeping yet a walking spirit;
+      A livelesse body to my sight
+      Methought appeared, thus addight.
+
+    In that my sleepe I did descry
+    A Soule departed but lately
+      From that foule body which lay by;
+      Wailing with sighes, and loud did cry.
+
+    Fast by the body, thus she mones
+    And questions it, with sighes and grones;
+      O wretched flesh, thus low who makes thee lye,
+      Whom yesterday the world had seene so high?
+
+    Was't not but yesterday the world was thine,
+      And all the countrey stood at thy devotion?
+    Thy traine that followed thee when thy sunne did shine
+      Have now forsaken thee: O dolefull alteration!
+
+    Those turrets gay of costly masonry,
+      And larger palaces, are not now thy roome;
+    But in a coffin of small quantity
+      Thou lyest interr�d in a little tombe.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    O wretched flesh, with me that art forlorne,
+      If thou couldst know how sharpe our punishment;
+    How justly mightest thou wish not to be borne,
+      Or from the wombe to tombe to have been hent!
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    How lik'st thou now, poor foole, thy latter lodging,
+      The roofe whereof lyes even with thy nose?
+    Thy eyes are shut, thy tongue cannot be cogging;
+      Nothing of profit rests at thy dispose.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thy garments, wretched fool, are farre from rich;
+      Thy upper garment hardly worth a scute;
+    A little linnen shrouds thee in thy ditch,
+      No rents nor gifts men bring, nor make their suite.'
+
+Again, st. 79-81:
+
+    'If I be clad in rich array,
+    And well attended every day,
+    Both wise and good I shal be thoght,
+    My kinred also shall be sought.
+    I am, say men, the case is cleere,
+    Your cosen, sir, a kinsman neere.
+    But if the world doe change and frowne,
+    Our kinred is no longer knowne;
+    Nor I remembred any more
+    By them that honoured me before.
+    O vanity! vile love of mucke,
+    Foule poyson, wherefore hast thou stucke
+    Thyselfe so deepe, to raise so high
+    Things vanishing so suddenly?'
+
+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).
+
+    'This is Christian faith unfain�d,
+    Orthodoxall, true, unstain�d.
+    As I teach, all understand,
+    Yeelding unto neither hand.
+    And in this my soule's defence,
+    Reiect me not for mine offence:
+    Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation
+    I fly in death to seek salvation.
+    I have no meane Thy love to gain,
+    But this faith which I maintaine.
+    This Thou seest, nor will I cease
+    By this to beg for a release.
+    Let this sacred salve be bound
+    Vpon my sores, to make them sound.
+    Though man be carried forth, and lying
+    In his grave, and putrifying:
+    Bound and hid from mortall eyes;
+    Yet if Thou bid, he must arise.
+    At Thy will the grave will open,
+    At Thy will his bonds are broken.
+    And forth he comes without delay,
+    If Thou but once bid, Come away!
+    In this sea of dread and doubt
+    My poore barke is tost about;
+    With storms and pirats far and wide,
+    Death and woes on every side.
+    Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest,
+    Calme these winds that me molest;
+    Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence,
+    And show me some safe residence.
+    My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead,
+    All the boughs are wither�d;
+    Downe it must, and to the fire,
+    If desert have his due hire.
+    But spare it, Lord, another yeare.
+    With manuring it [yet] may beare.
+    If it then be dead and dry,
+    Burne it; alas, what remedy!
+    Mine old foe assaults me sore
+    With fire and water, more and more.
+    Poore I, of all my strength bereft,
+    Onely unto Thee am left.
+    That my foe may hence be chas�d,
+    And I from Ruin's clawes releas�d,
+    Lord, vouchsafe me every day
+    Strength to fast, and faith to pray:
+    These two meanes Thyself hast taught
+    To bring temptation's force to noght.
+    Lord, free my soule from sin's infection
+    By repentance's direction.
+    Be Thy feare in me abiding,
+    My soule to true salvation guiding.
+    Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love,
+    Zeale of heaven and things above.
+    Teach mee prize the world at nought;
+    On Thy blisse be all my thought.
+    All my hopes on Thee I found,
+    In Whom all good things abound.
+    Thou art all my dignitie:
+    All I have I have from Thee.
+    Thou art my comfort in distresse,
+    Thou art my cure in heavinesse;
+    Thou art my music in my sadnes,
+    Thou art my medicine in my madnesse.
+    Thou my freedom from my thral,
+    Thou my raiser from my fall.
+    In my labour Thou reliev'st me;
+    Thou reform'st whatever grieves me.
+    Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth,
+    And from hurt my soul defendeth.
+    Thou my deepest doubts revealest,
+    Thou my secret faults concealest.
+    O do Thou stay my feet from treading
+    In paths to hel and horror leading,
+    Where eternal torment dwels,
+    With fears and tears and lothsome smels;
+    Where man's deepest shame is sounded,
+    And the guilty still confounded;
+    Where the scourge for ever beateth,
+    And the worme that alwaies eateth;
+    Where all those endless do remain,
+    Lord, preserve us from this paine.
+    In Sion lodge me, Lord, for pitty--
+    Sion, David's kingly citty,
+    Built by Him that's onely good;
+    Whose gates be of the Crosse's wood;
+    Whose keys are Christ's undoubted word;
+    Whose dwellers feare none but the Lord;
+    Whose wals are stone, strong, quicke and bright;
+    Whose Keeper is the Lord of Light:
+    Here the light doth never cease,
+    Endlesse Spring and endles peace;
+    Here is musicke, heaven filling,
+    Sweetnesse evermore distilling;
+    Here is neither spot nor taint,
+    No defect, nor no complaint;
+    No man crook�d, great nor small,
+    But to Christ conform�d all.
+    Blessed towne, divinely grac�d,
+    On a rocke so strongly plac�d,
+    Thee I see, and thee I long for;
+    Thee I seek, and thee I grone for.
+    O what ioy thy dwellers tast,
+    All in pleasure first and last!
+    What full enioying blisse divine,
+    What iewels on thy wals do shine!
+    Ruby, iacinth, chalcedon,
+    Knowne to them within alone.
+    In this glorious company,
+    In the streets of Sion, I
+    With Iob, Moses, and Eliah,
+    Will sing the heauenly Alleviah. Amen.
+
+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.
+
+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
+
+
+II. A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+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.
+
+I think I shall be able to say what has struck myself as worth saying
+about Crashaw, under these three things:
+
+I. His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, using the terms
+as historic words, not polemically.
+
+II. His friends and associates, as celebrated in his Writings.
+
+III. His characteristics and place as a Poet. These successively.
+
+I. _His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism._ From our Memoir
+of his Father it will be apparent to all that _he_ 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.[15] 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.[16] 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 MSS. on the _Gunpowder Treason_ (vol. i.
+pp. 188-194) are 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:
+
+
+A CONCLUSION TO THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKE.
+
+    Tradition and antiquitie, the ground
+      Whereon that erring Church doth so relye,
+    Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound
+      The novel doctrine of their heresie,
+    Which plaine by these most sensible degrees
+      Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall;
+    Where each observing iudgement plainely sees,
+      From good to bad, from bad to worst of all
+    It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire,
+      Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may,
+    To blinde this truth; to no step any higher
+      By any policie it can essay.
+    These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale
+      And meditations of most pious use,
+    Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale:
+      Free from impiety, or least abuse,
+    Blot out all merit in ourselves we have,
+      And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye:
+    Offer not prayers for those are in the grave,
+      Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry.
+    Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd
+      From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage,
+    Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd
+      To passe among the good things of this Age,
+    Yet are in this respect of more regard,
+      Since God would have them to these times appeare,
+    So many having perisht; and be heard
+      With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare.
+    By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart,
+      Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not,
+    He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part,
+      That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.
+
+                                                        B.L.
+
+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 '_change_' 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,' _id est_, 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,' 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.[17] 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,
+STEPS 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' 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_est_ 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:
+
+    'Thus haue I back again to thy bright name,
+    Fair floud of holy fires! transfus'd the flame
+    I took from reading thee....
+    ... O pardon, if I dare to say
+    Thine own dear bookes are guilty.'  (vol. i. p. 150.)
+
+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.[18] Going back on the
+'Hymn,' such lines as these show how even then the Poet had drunk-in the
+very passion of Teresa: _e.g._
+
+    'Loue toucht her heart, and, lo, it beates
+    High, and burnes with such braue heates,
+    Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp
+    _A thousand cold deathes in one cup_.
+    Good reason: for she breathes all fire;
+    Her white breast heaues with strong desire.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Sweet, not so fast! lo, thy fair Spouse,
+    Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes,
+    Calls thee back, and bidds thee come
+    T'embrace a milder martyrdom.
+      Blest powres forbid thy tender life
+    Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife:
+    Or some base hand have power to raze
+    Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase
+    A soul kept there so sweet: O no,
+    Wise Heaun will neuer haue it so.
+    Thou art Love's victime, and must dy
+    A death more mystical and high:
+    Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall
+    A still-suruiuing funerall.
+    His is the dart must make the death
+    Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath;
+    A dart thrice dipt in that rich flame
+    Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name
+    Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay
+    It shines; and with a soueraign ray
+    Beates bright vpon the burning faces
+    Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces
+    Find everlasting smiles.  .  .
+    O how oft shalt thou complain
+    Of a sweet and subtle pain;
+    Of intolerable ioyes;
+    Of a death, in which who dyes
+    Loues his death, and dyes again,
+    And would for ever so be slain,
+    And liues and dyes; and knowes not why
+    To live, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy.'
+
+It is deeply significant to find such a Hymn as that written while 'yet
+among the Protestants.' Putting the two things together--(_a_) his
+recluse, shy, meditative life 'under Tertullian's roofe of angels,' and
+his prayers THERE in the night; (_b_) 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 drew him to such literature, and the
+literature fed what perchance demanded rather to be neutralised.[19] 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 �olian 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.e._ 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 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 _the_ 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.
+
+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 coeli."
+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, 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.
+
+Thus from all sides came potent influences of personal friendship--of
+his friends and associates more onward--to give impulse and _momentum_
+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
+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.
+
+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 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
+oecumenical 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 Mec�nas, 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.).
+
+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 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.[20] 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 _Seguita_ (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 '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--(_a_) 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: (_b_) 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: (_c_) 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 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.[21] I pass
+to--
+
+II. _His friends and associates, as celebrated in his writings._ I use
+the word 'Writings' here rather than 'Poems,' because in his Epistles,
+_e.g._ 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.[22]
+Very little has come down to us concerning 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 pr�ceptori 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).
+
+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 MSS. 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).
+
+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 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, _pro Gradu_, the last
+week, upon Rom. iii. 28, he said he came not _palinodiam canere, sed
+eandem cantilenam canere_; 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 _Die Comitiorum_, 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, qu� 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).[23]
+
+Robert Shelford, 'of Ringsfield in Suffolk, Priest,' was another
+'_suspect_:' as in Huntley's [ = Prynne] _Breviate_ (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 _ut famosi
+Perni amanuensem possis agnoscere_. 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.).[24] So with James Stanninow (or
+Staninough), 'fellow of Queene's 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).[25] 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).[26]
+
+It only remains that I notice our Crashaw's friendship with (_a_)
+Abraham Cowley; (_b_) the Countess of Denbigh.
+
+(_a_) ABRAHAM COWLEY. 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
+Votiv�.' 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.[27]
+
+(_b_) COUNTESS OF DENBIGH. 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 MSS. 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 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 _she_ became a Roman Catholic,[28] 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 _supra_). These in order:
+
+
+I. Buckingham to his Mother [undated]:
+
+    Dere Mother,--Give me but as many blessings and pardons as I shall
+    make falts, and then you make happie
+
+  Your most obedient Sonne,
+
+  For my Mother.                          BUCKINGHAM.
+
+
+II. Susan, Countess of Denbigh, to Lord Fielding:
+
+    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.
+
+    Your loveing Mother,
+
+    For my deare Sonne theise.      SU. DENBIGH.
+
+
+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.[29] 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 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
+
+III. _His characteristics and place as a Poet._ 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
+MSS.; 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: (_a_) Imaginative-sensuousness;
+(_b_) Subtlety of emotion; (_c_) Epigrams; (_d_) Translations and
+(briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry. I would say a little on each.
+
+(_a_) _Imaginative-sensuousness._ 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, _sensuous_, and passionate;' and I qualify 'sensuousness' 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!
+
+    'Heauns thy fair eyes be;
+      Heauens of ever-falling starres.
+      'Tis seed-time still with thee;
+      And starres thou sow'st whose haruest dares
+    Promise the Earth to counter-shine
+    Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine.'
+
+How grandly vague is that 'counter-shine _whatever_,' 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.:
+
+      'The deaw no more will weep                                _dew_
+      The primrose's pale cheek to deck:
+      The deaw no more will sleep
+      Nuzzel'd in the lily's neck;
+    Much rather would it be thy tear,
+    And leaue them both to tremble there.'
+
+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, '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:
+
+    'We goe not to seek
+      The darlings of Aurora's bed,
+      The rose's modest cheek,
+      Nor the violet's humble head,
+    Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be,
+    Because they want such teares as we.
+      Much lesse mean to trace
+      The fortune of inferior gemmes,
+      Preferr'd to some proud face,
+      Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems:
+    _Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet_
+    A worthy object, our _Lord's feet_.'
+
+'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.'
+
+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: for the Critic ought to have marked how the
+Poet's 'shoes' are put off his feet in approaching the weeping
+Magdalene; but that _she_ 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 exceptions only
+establishing the rule). His epithets are never superfluous, and are,
+even to surprising nicety, true. Thus he calls Egypt '_white_ 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.[30] Similarly we have '_hir'd_ mist' (vol. i.
+p. 84); '_pretious_ losse' (ib.); '_fair-ey'd_ fallacy of Day' (ib. p.
+85); '_black_ but faithfull perspectiue of Thee' (ib. p. 86); '_abas�d_
+liddes' (ib. p. 88); '_gratious_ robbery' (ib. p. 156); 'thirsts of
+loue' (ib.); '_timerous_ light of starres' (ib. p. 172); '_rebellious_
+eye of Sorrow' (ib. p. 112); and so in hundreds of parallels. Take this
+from 'To the Name above every Name' (ib. p. 60):
+
+            'O come away ...
+    O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope--
+    Love's eastern windowes--all wide ope
+            With curtains drawn,
+    To catch the day-break of Thy dawn.
+    O, dawn at last, long-lookt-for Day,
+    Take thine own wings, and come away.'
+
+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,
+
+    Since 'tis not to be had at home
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    She'l to the Moores and martyrdom.'[31]
+
+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 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 _proper then_ and _true now_, 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.
+
+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).
+
+I thank Dr. George Macdonald[32] (in 'Antiphon') for 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.[33]
+
+(_b_) _Subtlety of emotion._ Dr. Donne, in a memorable passage, with
+daring originality, sings of Mrs. Drury rapturously:
+
+                  'Her pure and eloquent soul
+    Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,
+    That one might almost say her body thought.'
+
+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 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:
+
+    'Incense of love's and fancie's _holy smoak_;'
+
+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):
+
+    'Leaue her ... the flaming heart:
+    Leaue her that, and thou shalt leaue her
+    Not one loose shaft, but Loue's whole quiver.
+    _For in Loue's feild was neuer found
+    A nobler weapon than a wovnd._
+    Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part,
+    The wounded is the wounding heart.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill,
+    And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still.'
+
+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 _Man_, 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 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:
+
+      'So, when the Year takes cold, we see
+      Poor waters _their own prisoners be;
+      Fetter'd and lock'd-up fast they lie
+      In a cold self-captivity_.
+    Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deplore,
+    To find themselves their own severer shoar.'
+
+Young is striking in his use of the ice-metaphor:
+
+                  'in Passion's flame
+    Hearts melt; but _melt like ice, soon harder froze_.'
+
+  (Night-Thoughts, N. II. l. 522-3.)
+
+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: _e.g._
+
+                  'Midnight veil'd his face:
+    Not such as this, not such as Nature makes;
+    A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold;
+    A midnight new; a dread eclipse, without
+    Opposing spheres, from her Creator's frown.'
+
+  (Night IV. ll. 246-250.)
+
+So in 'Gilt was Hell's gloom' (N. VII. l. 1041), and in this portrait of
+Satan:
+
+    'Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll
+    His baleful eyes!'       (N. IX. ll. 280-1.) and
+
+                  'the fiery gulf,
+    That flaming bound of wrath omnipotent;'  (Ib. ll. 473-4)
+
+and
+
+    'Banners streaming as the comet's blaze;' (Ib. l. 323)
+
+and
+
+    'Which makes a hell of hell,' (Ib. l. 340)
+
+we have the impress and inspiration of our Poet.
+
+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!--
+
+    'Peace, good Reader, doe not weep;
+    Peace, the louers are asleep.
+    They, sweet turtles, folded ly
+    In the last knott that Loue could ty.
+    And though they ly as they were dead,
+    Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead
+    (Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm),
+    Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm:
+    Let them sleep; let them sleep on,
+    Till this stormy night be gone,
+    And the �ternall morrow dawn;
+    Then ...' (vol. i. pp. 230-1.)
+
+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):
+
+    'In bonds of love united, man and wife,
+    Long, yet too short, they spent a happy life;
+    United still, too soon, however late,
+    Both man and wife receiv'd the stroke of fate:
+    And now in glory clad, enraptur'd pair,
+    The same bright cup, the same sweet draught they share.
+    Thus, first and last, a married couple see,
+    In life, in death, in immortality.'
+
+There is much beauty also in an anonymous epitaph in the 'Festoon' 143,
+'On a Man and his Wife:'
+
+    'Here sleep, whom neither life nor love,
+      Nor friendship's strictest tie,
+    Could in such close embrace as thou,
+      Their faithful grave, ally;
+    Preserve them, each dissolv'd in each,
+      For bands of love divine,
+    For union only more complete,
+      Thou faithful grave, than thine.' (p. 253.)
+
+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 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):
+
+
+'HERBERT AND CRASHAW.
+
+
+    When unto Herbert's Temple I ascend
+    By Crashaw's Steps, I do resolve to mend
+    My lighter verse, and my low notes to raise,
+    And in high accent sing my Maker's praise.
+    Meanwhile these sacred poems in my sight
+    I place, that I may learn to write.'
+
+(_c_) _Epigrams._ 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.
+LIV. (2) and XI.; and continues with No. XIV., and next LIV. (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. I.[34] We too may give
+it:
+
+      '_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.' (vol. ii. p. 35.)
+
+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. XLII., 'containing a
+similar lesson;' and finally No. XLV. p. 196, whereof he says: 'The
+following is a world-wide intercession for them that know not what they
+do. 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).
+
+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. CXVII., '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):
+
+    'O curs�d Pilate, villain dyed in grain,
+    A little water cannot purge thy stain;
+    No, Tana�s can't do't, nor yet the main.
+    Dost thou condemn a Deity to death,
+    Him whose mere love gave and preserv'd thy breath?'
+
+Similarly, under No. LI. 'On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness,' he has
+this: 'Some lines "To the Blessed Virgin at her Purification," by the
+old epigrammatist Bancroft, are almost as beautiful in sentiment as
+this exquisite piece (Book ii. 86):
+
+    Why, favourite of Heaven, most fair,
+    Dost thou bring fowls for sacrifice?
+    Will not the armful thou dost bear,
+    That lovely Lamb of thine, suffice?'
+
+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):
+
+    'When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine
+    Inspir'd cold water with the warmth of wine;
+    See! cried they, while in red'ning tide it gush'd,
+    The bashful stream hath seen its God, and _blush'd_.'
+
+Dryden's 'The conscious water saw its God, and blush'd,' is a mere
+remembrance of Crashaw.[35]
+
+(_d_) _Translations and (briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry._ 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 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:
+
+    Jam Sol a medio pronus deflexerat orbe
+    Mitius, e radiis vibrans crinalibus ignem.
+    Cum Fidicen, propter Tiberina fluenta, sonanti
+    Lenibat plectra curas, aestumque levabat,
+    Ilice defensus nigra scenaque virenti.
+    Audiit hunc hospes silvae Philomela propinquae
+    Musa loci, nemoris siren, innoxia siren;
+    Et prope succedens stetit abdita frondibus, alte
+    Accipiens sonitum, secumque remurmurat, et quos
+    Ille modos variat digitis, haec gutture reddit.
+    Sensit se Fidicen Philomela imitante referri,
+    Et placuit ludum volucri dare; plenius ergo
+    Explorat citharam, tentamentumque futurae
+    Praebeat ut pugnae, percussit protinus omnes
+    Impulsu pernice fides, nec segnius illa.
+    Mille per excurrens variae discrimina vocis,
+    Venturi specimen praefert argutula cantus.
+    Tunc Fidicen per fila movens trepidantia dextram,
+    Nunc contemnenti similis diverberat ungue,
+    Depectitque pari chordas, et simplice ductu:
+    Nunc carptim replicat, digitisque micantibus urget
+    Fila minutatim, celerique repercutit ictu.
+    Mox silet. Illa modis totidem respondet, et artem
+    Arte refert. Nunc seu rudis aut incerta canendi
+    Projicit in longum, nulloque plicatile flexu
+    Carmen init, simili serie, jugique tenore,
+    Praebet iter liquidum labenti e pectore voce;
+    Nunc caesim variat, modulisque canora minutis.
+    Delibrat vocem, tremuloque reciprocat ore.
+    Miratur Fidicen parvis e faucibus ire
+    Tam varium, tam dulce melos; majoraque tentans
+    Alternat mira arte fides; dum torquet acutas
+    Inciditque, graves operoso verbere pulsat,
+    Permiscetque simul certantia rauca sonoris,
+    Ceu resides in bella viros clangore lacessat.
+    Hoc etiam Philomela canit: dumque ore liquenti
+    Vibrat acuta sonum, modulisque interplicat acquis;
+    Ex inopinato gravis intonat, et leve murmur
+    Turbinat introrsus, alternantique sonore
+    Clarat, et infuscat ceu martia classica pulset.
+    Scilicet erubuit Fidicen, ...
+    Non imitabilibus plectrum concentibus urget.
+    Namque manu per fila volat, simul hos, simul illos
+    Explorat numeros, chordaque laborat in omni,
+    Et strepit, et tinnit, crescitque superbius, et se
+    Multiplicat religens, plenoque choreumate plaudit.[36]
+
+It will be noted by the student that such word-painting as in these
+lines belongs to Crashaw, not Strada:
+
+                            'and streightway she
+    _Carves out her dainty voyce as readily_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Through the sleeke passage of her open throat
+    _A clear unwrinckled song_;
+           .       .       .       .       .
+          closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all,
+    _Hoarce, shrill at once; as when the trumpets call
+    Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo
+    Men's hearts into their hands_:'
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                      staggers in a warbling doubt
+    _Of dallying sweetnesse_, hovers o'er her skill,
+    _And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                              a tide
+    Of streaming sweetnesse, _which in state doth ride
+    On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine,
+    Rising and falling in a pompous traine_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thus high, thus low, _as if her silver throat
+    Would reach the brazen voyce of War's hoarce bird_.
+
+        ... his hands sprightly as fire, he flings
+    And with _a quavering coynesse tasts the strings_.
+    The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted,
+    Singing their feares, are fearefully delighted,
+    _Trembling as when Appolo's golden haires
+    Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres
+    Of his own breath: which marryed to his lyre_
+    Doth tune the spheares.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                      with nectar drop,
+    _Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _The lute's light genius now does proudly rise,
+    Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes,_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone_.'
+
+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 MSS. 3910, pt. lxvi., from which we take
+a specimen:
+
+    'Now the declininge sunn 'gan downward bende
+    From higher heauene, and from his locks did sende
+    A milder flame; when neere to Tyber's flowe
+    A Lutaniste allayde his carefull woe,
+    With sondinge charmes, and in a greeny seate
+    Of shady oake, toke shelter from the heate.
+
+      A nitingale ore-hard hym that did use
+    To soiourne in y^e neighbour groues, the Muse
+    That files the place, the syren of the wood:
+    Poore harmeles Syren, steling neere she stood
+    Close lurkinge in the leaues attentiuely:
+    Recordinge that vnwonted mellodye,
+    She condt it to herselfe, and every straine
+    His fingers playde, her throat return'd againe.'
+
+And so to the end (MS. 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:
+
+    _Menaphon._ A sound of music touched mine ears, or rather,
+    Indeed, entranced my soul. As I stole nearer,
+    Invited by the melody, I saw
+    This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute,
+    With strains of strange variety and harmony,
+    Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challenge
+    To the clear choristers of the wood, the birds,
+    That as they flocked about him all stood silent,
+    Wondering at what they heard. I wondered too.
+
+    _Amethus._ And do so I: good, on.
+
+    _Men._                            A nightingale,
+    Nature's best-skilled musician, undertakes
+    The challenge, and for every several strain
+    The well-shaped youth could touch, she sung her own:
+    He could not run division with more art
+    Vpon his quaking instrument than she
+    The nightingale did with her various notes
+    Reply to: for a voice and for a sound,
+    Amethus, 'tis much easier to believe
+    That such they were, than hope to hear again.
+
+    _Ameth._ How did the rivals part?
+
+    _Men._                            You term them rightly.
+    For they were rivals, and their mistress, Harmony.
+    Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last
+    Into a pretty anger, that a bird,
+    Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes,
+    Should vie with him for mastery, whose study
+    Had busied many hours to perfect practice.
+    To end the controversy, in a rapture,
+    Vpon his instrument he plays so swiftly
+    So many voluntaries, and so quick,
+    That there was curiosity and cunning,
+    Concord in discord, lines of differing method
+    Meeting in one full centre of delight.
+
+    _Ameth._ Now for the bird.
+
+    _Men._                     The bird, ordained to be
+    Music's first master, strove to imitate
+    These several sounds; which when her warbling throat
+    Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute,
+    And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness,
+    To see the conqueror upon her hearse
+    To weep.[37]
+
+Comment is needless on such pale, empty literality, as compared with the
+vitality and _�lan_ of Crashaw, in all but Ford's; while even Ford's is
+surpassed in every way by the 'Musick's Duell.'
+
+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. We prefer adducing
+Crashaw, and then giving a close rendering of the original: _e.g._
+
+    'He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,
+    _On which, as on a glorious stranger, gaz'd
+    The golden eyes of Night_.'      (st. xvii.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    '_He sees also shining from heaven,
+    With beauteous ray, the wondrous star_,
+    Which, brilliant and beautiful, goes
+    Pointing the way straight towards Bethlehem.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'He saw how in that blest Day-bearing Night,
+    The Heav'n-rebuk�d shades made hast away;
+    _How bright a dawne of angels with new light
+    Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day
+    Of which the Morning knew not_.'      (st. xv.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    'He sees the quiet shades and the dark
+    Horrors of the happy, holy Night
+    Smitten and routed by heavenly voices,
+    And vanquished by angelic splendours.'
+
+Once more: when Alecto, the most terrible of the infernal sisters,
+ascends to Earth at the command of Satan:
+
+    'Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight:
+    The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more,
+    But shut their flowry lids for ever;'      (st. xlviii.)
+
+for
+
+    'Parvero i fiori intorno e la verdura
+    Sentir forza di peste, ira di verno;'
+
+literally:
+
+          'soon as Hell had vomited out
+    This monster from the dark abyss,
+    _The flowers all around and the verdure appeared
+    To feel the strength of the plague, the fury of winter_.'
+
+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, 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: _e.g._
+
+    '_And for the never-fading fields of light;_'      (st. xxvii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Che pi� pu� farmi omai chi la celeste
+    _Reggia mi tolse, e i regni i miei lucenti_?'
+
+literally:
+
+    'What more can He now do to me, Who took
+    _From me the heavenly palace and my bright realms_?'
+
+Again:
+
+    '_Bow our bright heads before a king of clay;_'      (st. xxviii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Volle alle forme sue semplici e prime,
+    Natura sovralzar corporea e bassa,
+    E de' membri del ciel capo sublime
+    Far di limo terrestre eterna massa;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'He turns to his simple primitive forms,
+    To raise Nature above the corporeal and low,
+    And to make an unworthy mass of earthly clay
+    The sublime head of the heavenly members.'
+
+Compare also st. x. in Crashaw with the original as literally rendered:
+
+    'Disdainefull wretch, how hath one bold sinne cost
+    Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes!
+    How hath _one black eclipse cancell'd and crost
+    The glories that did gild thee in thy rise!
+    Proud morning of a perverse day_, how lost
+    Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise
+      Narcissus! foolish Phaeton, who for all
+      Thy _high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall_.'
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'O wretched Angel, once fairer than light,
+    How thou hast lost thy primeval splendour!
+    Thou shalt have from the eternal Requiter
+    Deserved punishment for the unjust crime:
+    Proud admirer of thy honours,
+    Rebellious usurper of another's seat!
+    Transformed, and fallen into Phlegethon,
+    Proud Narcissus, impious Phaethon!'
+
+Milton takes from Crashaw, not Marino, in his portrait of the Destroyer:
+
+    'From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre
+    This mortall enemy to mankind's good
+    Lifts his _malignant eyes, wasted with care,
+    To become beautifull in humane blood_.'      (st. xi.)
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'He from the shades of death to the living air,
+    Envious in truth of our human state,
+    Lifted aloft his eyes by where
+    The hollow vent-hole opened straight down.'
+
+Well-nigh innumerable single lines and words are inevitably marked:
+_e.g._
+
+                        'the rebellious eye
+    Of sorrow.'      (st. xlix.)
+
+So the eyes of Satan:
+
+            'the sullen dens of Death and Night
+    Startle the dull ayre with a dismal red;'      (st. vii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Negli occhi ove mestizia alberga e morte,
+    Luce fiammeggia torbida e vermiglia;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'In the eyes where sadness dwells and death
+    A turbid vermilion-coloured light shines.'
+
+Again: the sun is seen by the Tempter to
+
+    Make proud the ruby portalls of the East;'      (st. xvi.)
+
+for 'la Reggia Oriental.' Crashaw has the same vivid fancy in the Hymn
+for Epiphany:
+
+          'Aurora shall set ope
+    Her ruby casements.'
+
+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:
+
+    'Under the abysses, at the very core of the world,
+    In the central point of the universe,
+    Within the bowers of the darkest deep,
+    There stands the fiendly perverse Spirit:
+    With sharp thongs an impure group
+    Binds him with a hundred snakes athwart:
+    With such bonds girds him for ever,
+    The great champion who conquered HIM in Paradise.'
+
+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:
+
+          'no rapture makes it live
+    Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,
+    Whose feet can walke the Milky Way,
+    Her starry throne, and hold up an exalted arm
+    To lift me from my lazy urn and climbe
+    Upon the stoop�d shoulders of old Time,
+    And trace eternity.'      (vol. i. p. 238.)[38]
+
+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' (_ib._ pp.
+223-5). It is profoundly to be regretted that our Poet should have
+limited himself to Book I. of the 'Strage degli Innocenti,' viz.
+'Sospetto d'Herode.' Book VII. especially, 'Della Gerusalemme Distruta,'
+would have demanded all his powers. The entire poem was 'done in
+English,' and it is '_done_' (by T.R. 1675).
+
+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 _thought_ of Crashaw; and, unless I egregiously
+mistake, we have together earned some gratitude from admirers of our
+Worthy.
+
+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.
+
+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 the
+typical corrections that I felt obliged to make, and note other lapses
+which I did not feel justified in altering.
+
+    In XI. last line, {aperrhipton} for {aporrhipton}; CXXI. last line,
+    {e�n} for {e�}; CXXV. line 5. {kein'} for {kein}; CLXXX. line 1 has
+    {plan�} as if the penult were long instead of short, and {al�mi} an
+    unused form, so that the line offends both quantity and usage--it
+    might be amended thus, {Heis men eg�, h� mou te plan� peri�gen,
+    al�mai}; CLXXXII. line 1, {epeballen} for {epiballen}; CLXXXIII.
+    line 2, {sykom�re} should be {sykomore}, but altered for scansion;
+    line 3, {ekkr�mn�s} should perhaps be {ekkr�mnas}; line 4,
+    unscanable; and in CXXV. line 4, {dasiois} should be {dasesin}.
+    {ouranos}, the penult of which is short, he uses as either long or
+    short.
+
+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.
+
+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. RICHARD CRASHAW
+has assuredly not yet gathered all his fame.[39]
+
+  ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
+
+
+
+
+  Latin Poems.
+
+  PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+  (1634-1670.)
+
+
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The earliest appearance of CRASHAW 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:
+
+
+
+
+  EPIGRAM-
+
+  MATUM
+
+  SACRORUM
+
+  LIBER.
+
+
+  University Printer's ornament,
+  with legend, 'Hinc. Lvcem. Et.
+  Pocula. Sacra.' and 'Alma Mater.'
+
+
+  Cantabrigi�,
+  Ex Academi� celeberrim�
+  typographeo. 1634.
+
+    This is a small duodecimo. Collation: Title-page--Epistle-dedicatory
+    to LANY, with the poems, 'Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,'
+    &c.--Venerabili viro Magistro Tournay, Tutori suo summe
+    observando--Ornatissimo viro Pr�ceptori suo colendissimo, Magistro
+    Brook--Lectori (verse and prose), seven leaves: Epigrammata Sacra,
+    pp. 79.
+
+
+
+
+A second edition of this volume appeared in 1670. Its title-page is as
+follows:
+
+  RICHARDI CRASHAWI
+
+  POEMATA
+
+  et
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA,
+
+  Qu� scripsit Latina & Gr�ca,
+  Dum _Aul� Pemb._ Alumnus fuit,
+  Et
+  Collegii _Petrensis_ Socius.
+
+
+  Editio Secunda, Auctior & emendatior.
+
+
+  {Heineken eumathi�s pinytophronos, h�n ho Melichros
+  �sk�sen, Mous�n ammiga kai Charit�n.}      {Anthol.}
+
+  [Printer's ornament, as before.]
+
+  Cantabrigi�,
+  Ex Officina _Joan. Hayes_, Celeberrim� Academi�
+  Typographi. 1670.
+
+This is an 8vo. Collation: Title-page--and to Brook, as before; then
+these additional Latin poems: In Picturam Reverendissimi Episcopi D.
+Andrews--Votiva Dom�s Petrensis pro Domo Dei--In c�terorum Operum
+difficili Parturitione Gemitus--Epitaphium in Gulielmum Herrisium--In
+Eundem--Natalis Principis Mari�--In Serenissim� Regin� partum
+hyemalem--Natalis Ducis Eboracensis--In faciem Augustiss. Regis a
+morbillis integram--Ad Carolum Primum, Rex Redux--Ad Principem nondum
+natum, Regin� gravid�. Bastard-title, 'Epigrammata Sacra, qu� scripsit
+Gr�ca et Latina'--Lectori (as before), nine leaves: Epigrammata Sacra,
+pp. 67.
+
+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 Vidu�, ib.--No. 53, Ecce locus ubi jacuit
+Dominus, ib.--No. 120, In descensum Spirit�s 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 Dominic�, ib.--No. 178,
+C�cus implorat Christum, Latin and Greek--No. 179, Quis ex vobis, &c.
+ib.--No. 180, Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncati, ib.--No. 181, C�ci receptis,
+&c. ib.--and No. 182, Zaccheus in sycomoro.
+
+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 _Joann. Creed_.' Probably consisted of
+'remainders' of 1670 edition.
+
+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 THOMAS ASHE, M.A.,
+Ipswich; B., CLEMENT BARKSDALE (from 'Epigrammata Sacra selecta, cum
+Anglic� Versione. Sacred Epigrams Englished. London: Printed for John
+Barksdale, Bookseller in Cirencester. 1682.' 12mo); CL., Rev. J.H.
+CLARK, M.A., West Dereham, Norfolk; CR., CRASHAW himself; G., myself;
+W., Rev. W. ARIS WILLMOTT (from his 'Lives of the Sacred Poets,' s.n.
+Crashaw); and R. WI., Rev. RICHARD WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory,
+Market Weighton. In the present and succeeding division those 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.
+
+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 Gr�ca.' Similar lists will be found in the
+introductory notes to the several divisions of this volume.
+
+In the Epistle to Lany, line 18, avidi _for_ avide; line 29, amore _for_
+amare; in the Ode, st. ii. line 1, ipsi _for_ ipse. In the address
+'Lectori,' line 7, abi _for_ alis; line 29, putre _for_ putri; line 48,
+mens _for_ meus; line 53, fingit _for_ finget; line 70, graves _for_
+gravis; line 97, tota dropped out; line 120, negat _for_ neget; in
+succeeding prose, line 29, Acygmanos _for_ acygnianos.
+
+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.
+
+   No.
+
+    1, line 4, ille _for_ hic.
+
+    2, heading, Victorem _for_ vectorem.
+
+    3, l. 1, ori _for_ oris.
+
+    6, l. 2, me� _for_ mea.
+
+    7, l. 4, tanto _for_ tanti.
+
+    8, l. 1, vulnere _for_ vulnera.
+
+   10, l. 1, tumidus _for_ timidus.
+
+   12, heading, Luc. x. 30 _for_ x. 39; and so often.
+
+   19, l. 4, decas _for_ decus.
+
+   30, l. 3, Te ne _for_ Tene.
+
+   31, heading, credebunt _for_ credebant.
+
+   44, l. 1, tumere _for_ tenuere.
+
+   45, l. 2, mala _for_ male.
+
+   48, l. 1, Christe _for_ Christi.
+
+   60, l. 4, fecere _for_ fuere.
+
+   65, l. 7, adnixus _for_ ad nixus.
+
+   67, l. 1, Infantes _for_ infantis.
+
+   69, heading, meditur _for_ medetur.
+
+   78, l. 2, pati _for_ peti.
+
+  101, l. 4, aqua _for_ aquas.
+
+  108, l. 8, oculos _for_ oculus.
+
+  111, l. 3, natalis _for_ natales.
+
+  114, l. 2, utere _for_ uteri.
+
+  115, l. 4, queas _for_ queat.
+
+  120, heading, Domini _for_ Dominicam.
+
+   "   l. 6, Phoebe _for_ Phoebo.
+
+  122, heading, traduit _for_ traderet.
+
+  123, l. 2, nescis _for_ nescio.
+
+  125, l. 1, volueris _for_ volucris.
+
+  126, heading, Divi _for_ Divo.
+
+  132, heading, Christo _for_ Christi.
+
+  135, heading left out.
+
+  140, l. 2, illa _for_ ille.
+
+  149, l. 2, quae _for_ qua.
+
+  153, l. 3, colubres _for_ colubros.
+
+  155, heading, Domini _for_ Dominic�.
+
+  158, l. 3, par _for_ per.
+
+  161, l. 8, fieris _for_ fieres.
+
+   "   l. 12, solis _for_ solio.
+
+  164, l. 1, Daemone _for_ D�mona.
+
+  169, heading, lavante _for_ lavanti.
+
+   "   l. 2, virginea _for_ virgine�.
+
+  170, l. 5, decies _for_ denis.
+
+  172, l. 1, vidis _for_ vides.
+
+  176, l. 16, dominum _for_ dominam.
+
+   "   l. 73, ista _for_ iste.
+
+  177, l. 20, metu _for_ nutu.
+
+  182, l. 2, fide _for_ fida.
+
+The whole of these, with others belonging to Crashaw himself and his
+first editors, are carefully corrected in our edition. G.
+
+
+
+
+REVERENDO ADMODUM VIRO
+
+BENJAMINO LANY,[40]
+
+SS. THEOLOGIAE PROFESSORI, AULAE PEMBROCHIANAE CUSTODI DIGNISSIMO, EX
+SUORUM MINIMIS MINIMUS,
+
+R. C[RASHAW]
+
+CUSTODIAM COELESTEM
+
+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 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 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:
+
+    Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,
+    Per quem erudito exhalat in otio;
+        Seu frigus udi captet antri,
+            Sive Jovem nitidosque soles.
+
+    Non ipse custos pulchrior invias
+    Egit sub umbras Aemonios greges;
+        Non ipse Apollo notus illis
+            Lege suae meliore cannae.
+
+    Tu, si sereno des oculo frui,
+    Sunt rura nobis, sunt juga, sunt aquae,
+        Sunt plectra dulcium sororum
+            (Non alio mihi nota Phoebo).
+
+    Te dante, castos composuit sinus;
+    Te dante, mores sumpsit; et in suo
+        Videnda vultu, pulveremque
+            Relligio cineremque nescit.
+
+    Stat cincta digna fronde decens caput:
+    Suosque per te fassa palam Deos,
+        Comisque, Diva, vestibusque
+            Ingenium dedit ordinemque.
+
+    Jamque ecce nobis amplior es modo
+    Majorque cerni. Quale jubar tremit
+        Sub os! verecundusque quanta
+            Mole sui Genius laborat!
+
+    Jam qui serenas it tibi per genas,
+    Majore coelo sidus habet suum;
+        Majorque circum cuspidatae
+            Ora comis tua flos diei.
+
+    Stat causa. Nempe hanc ipse Deus, Deus,
+    Hanc ara, per te pulchra, diem tibi
+        Tuam refundit, obvioque
+            It radio tibi se colenti.
+
+    Ecce, ecce! sacro in limine, dum pio
+    Multumque prono poplite amas humum,
+        Altaria annuunt ab alto;
+            Et refluis tibi plaudit alis
+
+    Pulchro incalescens officio, puer
+    Quicunque crispo sidere crinium,
+        Vultuque non fatente terram,
+            Currit ibi roseus satelles.
+
+    Et jure. Nam cum fana tot inviis
+    Moerent ruinis, ipsaque, ceu preces
+        Manusque non decora supplex
+            Tendat, opem rogat, heu negatam!
+
+    Tibi ipsa voti est ora sui rea.
+    Et solvet. O quam semper apud Deum
+        Litabis illum, cujus arae
+            Ipse preces prius audiisti!
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Prose G.; verse CL.]
+
+    _To the very reverend man_ BENJAMIN LANY, _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._[41]
+
+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 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
+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 sacred things that have been honoured amongst us, to fly towards you
+with a strain of such kind as this, whatever it may be:
+
+    Kind Guardian of the Muses' flock,
+      Through whom it breathes in learn'd repose,
+    Whether it choose the dripping rock,
+      Or where the open sunshine glows.
+
+    Not fairer he through trackless shade
+      Who led �monia's flocks of old;
+    Not even Apollo, when he play'd,
+      With defter touch could charm the fold.
+
+    If thou the eye serene dost grant,
+      Green fields are ours, and streams and hills,
+    And, since no Phoebus else we want,
+      The Muses with their dulcet quills.
+
+    Religion too with modest grace
+      Through thee assumes a gentler mien;
+    Through thee again can show her face,
+      No more in dust and ashes seen.
+
+    Her brows crown'd meetly, and, through thee,
+      Her God in sight of all confess'd,
+    She gives in her divinity
+      Meaning and law to garb and vest.
+
+    Lo, while we gaze, an ample state
+      Adorns thee; what a lustrous sheen
+    Plays on thy lips! with what a weight
+      Thy reverent Genius toils within!
+
+    For him on whom thy calm glance flows
+      His star sheds down a fuller ray;
+    The light that o'er thine aspect glows
+      Is brighter than the shafts of Day.
+
+    And there is cause. The Lord of heaven,
+      Whose altar thou hast made so fair,
+    Pours back the light that thou hast given,
+      With glory meets His worshipper.
+
+    Lo, on the threshold of thy God
+      While thou dost stoop on bended knee,
+    The altar from on high doth nod,
+      Its plausive wings are bent to thee.
+
+    And, glowing with his duty's worth,
+      Each starry-tress�d chorister
+    With look that savours not of earth
+      Tends like a rosy cherub there.
+
+    And rightly. For, when ruin-wreck'd,
+      With prayers and outstretch'd hands the fane
+    Bemoan'd itself in all neglect,
+      And sought elsewhere for help in vain,--
+
+    To thee by its own vows 'tis bound,
+      And now repays thee. At the shrine
+    Whose cry so well thy ears hath found
+      Long, long may prayer and praise be thine!
+
+
+
+
+LECTORI.
+
+
+    Salve. Jamque vale. Quid enim quis pergeret ultra?
+      Qua jocus et lusus non vocat, ire voles?
+    Scilicet hic, Lector, cur noster habebere, non est;
+      Deliciis folio non faciente tuis.
+    Nam nec Acidalios halat mihi pagina rores;
+      Nostra Cupidineae nec favet aura faci.
+    Frustra hinc ille suis quicquam promiserit alis:
+      Frustra hinc illa novo speret abire sinu.
+    Ille e materna melius sibi talia myrto;
+      Illa jugis melius poscat ab Idaliis.
+    Quaerat ibi suus in quo cespite surgat Adonis,
+      Quae melior teneris patria sit violis.
+    Illinc totius Florae, verisque, suique
+      Consilio, ille alas impleat, illa sinus.
+    Me mea, casta tamen, si sit rudis, herba coronet:
+      Me mea, si rudis est, sit rudis, herba juvat.
+    Nulla meo Circaea tument tibi pocula versu:
+      Dulcia, et in furias officiosa tuas.
+    Nulla latet Lethe, quam fraus tibi florea libat,
+      Quam rosa sub falsis dat malefida genis.
+    Nulla verecundum mentitur mella venenum:
+      Captat ab insidiis linea nulla suis.
+    Et spleni, et jecori foliis bene parcitur istis.
+      Ah, male cum rebus staret utrumque meis!
+    Rara est quae ridet, nulla est quae pagina prurit,
+      Nulla salax, si quid norit habere salis.
+    Non nudae Veneres, nec, si jocus, udus habetur:
+      Non nimium Bacchus noster Apollo fuit.
+    Nil cui quis putri sit detorquendus ocello;
+      Est nihil obliquo quod velit ore legi.
+    Haec coram atque oculis legeret Lucretia justis;
+      Iret et illaesis hinc pudor ipse genis.
+    Nam neque candidior voti venit aura pudici
+      De matutina virgine thura ferens:
+    Cum vestis nive vincta sinus, nive tempora fulgens,
+      Dans nive flammeolis frigida jura comis,
+    Religiosa pedum sensim vestigia librans,
+      Ante aras tandem constitit, et tremuit.
+    Nec gravis ipsa suo sub numine castior halat
+      Quae pia non puras summovet ara manus.
+    Tam Venus in nostro non est nimis aurea versu:
+      Tam non sunt pueri tela timenda dei.
+    Saepe puer dubias circum me moverat alas,
+      Jecit et incertas nostra sub ora faces;
+    Saepe vel ipse sua calamum mihi blandus ab ala,
+      Vel matris cygno de meliore dedit;
+    Saepe Dionaeae pactus mihi serta coronae;
+      Saepe: Meus vates tu, mihi dixit, eris.
+    I procul, i cum matre tua, puer improbe, dixi:
+      Non tibi cum numeris res erit ulla meis.
+    Tu Veronensi cum passere pulchrior ibis:
+      Bilbilicisve queas comptius esse modis.
+    Ille tuos finget quocunque sub agmine crines:
+      Undique nequitiis par erit ille tuis.
+    Ille nimis, dixi, patet in tua proelia campus:
+      Heu, nimis est vates et nimis ille tuus!
+    Gleba illa, ah, tua quam tamen urit adultera messis!
+      Esset Idumaeo germine quanta parens!
+    Quantus ibi et quantae premeret puer ubera matris!
+      Nec coelos vultu dissimulante suos.
+    Ejus in isto oculi satis essent sidera versu;
+      Sidereo matris quam bene tuta sinu!
+    Matris ut hic similes in collum mitteret ulnas,
+      Inque sinus niveos pergeret, ore pari;
+    Utque genis pueri haec aequis daret oscula labris,
+      Et bene cognatis iret in ora rosis;
+    Quae Mariae tam larga meat, quam disceret illic
+      Uvida sub pretio gemma tumere suo!
+    Staret ibi ante suum lacrymatrix Diva Magistrum:
+      Seu levis aura volet, seu gravis unda cadat;
+    Luminis haec soboles, et proles pyxidis illa,
+      Pulchrius unda cadat, suavius aura volet.
+    Quicquid in his sordet demum, luceret in illis.
+      Improbe, nec satis est hunc tamen esse tuum?
+    Improbe, cede, puer: quid enim mea carmina mulces?
+      Carmina de jaculis muta futura tuis.
+    Cede, puer, qua te petulantis fraena puellae;
+      Turpia quae revocant pensa procacis herae;
+    Qua miseri male pulchra nitent mendacia limi;
+      Qua cerussatae, furta decora, genae;
+    Qua mirere rosas, alieni sidera veris;
+      Quas nivis haud propriae bruma redempta domat.
+    Cede, puer, dixi et dico; cede, improba mater:
+      Altera Cypris habet nos; habet alter Amor.
+    Scilicet hic Amor est; hic est quoque mater Amoris.
+      Sed Mater virgo; sed neque caecus Amor.
+    O Puer! � Domine! � magnae reverentia Matris,
+      Alme tui stupor et relligio gremii!
+    O Amor, innocuae cui sunt pia jura pharetrae,
+      Nec nisi de casto corde sagitta calens!
+    Me, Puer, � certa, quem figis, fige sagitta;
+      O tua de me sit facta pharetra levis!
+    Quodque illinc sitit et bibit, et bibit et sitit usque;
+      Usque meum sitiat pectus, et usque bibat.
+    Fige, Puer, corda haec. Seu spinis exiguus quis,
+      Seu clavi aut hastae cuspide magnus ades;
+    Seu major cruce cum tota; seu maximus ipso
+      Te corda haec figis denique; fige, Puer.
+    O metam hanc tuus aeternum inclamaverit arcus:
+      Stridat in hanc teli densior aura tui.
+    O tibi si jaculum ferat ala ferocior ullum,
+      Hanc habeat triti vulneris ire viam.
+    Quique tuae populus cunque est, quae turba, pharetrae;
+      Hic bene vulnificas nidus habebit aves.
+    O mihi sis bello semper tam saevus in isto!
+      Pectus in hoc nunquam mitior hostis eas.
+    Quippe ego quam jaceam pugna bene sparsus in illa!
+      Quam bene sic lacero pectore sanus ero!
+    Haec mea vota. Mei sunt haec quoque vota libelli.
+      Haec tua sint, Lector, si meus esse voles.
+    Si meus esse voles, meus ut sis, lumina, Lector,
+      Casta, sed � nimium non tibi sicca, precor.
+    Nam tibi fac madidis meus ille occurrerit alis,
+      Sanguine, seu lacryma diffluat ille sua:
+    Stipite totus hians, clavisque reclusus, et hasta:
+      Fons tuus in fluvios desidiosus erit?
+    Si tibi sanguineo meus hic tener iverit amne,
+      Tune tuas illi, dure, negabis aquas?
+    Ah durus! quicunque meos, nisi siccus, amores
+      Nolit, et hic lacrymae rem neget esse suae.
+    Saepe hic Magdalinas vel aquas vel amaverit undas;
+      Credo nec Assyrias mens tua malit opes.
+    Scilicet ille tuos ignis recalescet ad ignes;
+      Forsan et illa tuis unda natabit aquis.
+    Hic eris ad cunas, et odoros funere manes:
+      Hinc ignes nasci testis, et inde meos.
+    Hic mecum, et cum matre sua, mea gaudia quaeres:
+      Maturus Procerum seu stupor esse velit;
+    Sive per antra sui lateat, tunc templa, sepulchri:
+      Tertia lux reducem, lenta sed illa, dabit.
+    Sint fidae precor, ah, dices, facilesque tenebrae;
+      Lux mea dum noctis, res nova! poscit opem.
+    Denique charta meo quicquid mea dicat amori,
+      Illi quo metuat cunque, fleatve, modo,
+    Laeta parum, dices, haec, sed neque dulcia non sunt:
+      Certe et amor, dices, hujus amandus erat.
+
+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 � 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 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.
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Verse and Prose, G.]
+
+TO THE READER.
+
+    'Greeting,' Reader; and now 'farewell'!
+    Wherefore shouldst thou on my page dwell,
+    Where neither jest nor sport inviteth,
+    That the jocund youth delighteth?
+    Therefore, Reader, pass thee by
+    To thine own idle jollity:
+    The notes that trill from my poor lute
+    Such as thee shall never suit;
+    Nor here are Acidalian dews
+    That Venus' roses sweet suffuse;
+    Nor breath sets Cupid's torch a-blaze
+    That lovers on my lines may gaze.
+    Vainly shall mother and shall son
+    Look here for lewd emotion.
+    Cupid, seek thy mother's kirtle,
+    Or hide thee 'neath her fragrant myrtle.
+    And, Venus, thy Idalian hills
+    Will better yield thee sport that thrills:
+    Thither, therefore, goddess, turn;
+    O'er thy lost Adonis burn;
+    Or devise, if grief thee frets,
+    Other shrines for thy violets:
+    There, with Flora and the Spring
+    The green earth enamelling,
+    Thou mayst fill thy bosom's whiteness,
+    He his wings in all their brightness,
+    With all flow'rs that wait on thee
+    When thou holdest revelry.
+    Me my own poor flow'r will crown;
+    Poor 'tis true, yet all my own--
+    Poor but pure. So let it be,
+    Those unto others, this to me.
+    No Circe-cup foams in my verse,
+    To make fierce lustings still more fierce;
+    No draft of Lethe here doth flow,
+    Flow'ry above, deathly below;
+    No false cheeks, with falser bloom--
+    A rose up-bursting from a tomb;
+    No barb hid 'neath treach'rous plume;
+    No poison spread as honey'd bait;
+    No line where danger lies in wait:
+    Here's nor spleen nor melancholy,
+    That for me were unmeet wholly;
+    Rarely do I raise a smile,
+    Ne'er merge my wit in wanton wile;
+    Never quicken Passion's pulse,
+    Nor show nude Beauty to convulse,
+    Until beneath the hoof o' th' flesh
+    The strong man bound is in Lust's mesh.
+    If jest I pass, do not repine
+    To learn it reeks not of the wine;
+    For my Apollo is celestial,
+    And from Bacchus shrinks as bestial.
+    Nothing that's foul my page contains;
+    Nothing the modest eye arraigns;
+    Nothing to cause averted face--
+    Lucretia every line might trace
+    With calm, serene, unfearing eye,
+    Nor blush stain cheek of Modesty.
+    For not more pure the maiden's vow[42]
+    Whisper'd in tremulous words and low,
+    As, girt in snowy robe, her breast
+    Heaves like a wave in sweet unrest,
+    And the white veil shows whiter brow
+    In pureness of unfallen snow,
+    With flame-gleam from meek-dropp�d hair
+    Dishevell'd by the am'rous air:
+    Soft strains with her soft voice blending,
+    The marriage-rites to heaven ascending:
+    Yea, not the altar's self exhaleth
+    More chastely, as its God it haileth,
+    That keeps far off unholy hands
+    While there the priest with bow'd head stands.
+    My verse is not the Queen of Love's,
+    Nor knows the cooing of her doves:
+    Her beauty me not overpowers,
+    Though bright as skies when no cloud low'rs;
+    Vainly at me her tricksy boy
+    His arrows shoots. The sweet annoy
+    I never felt; though oft and oft
+    He hover'd o'er me, and with soft,
+    Sly, 'luring glances his torch wav'd,
+    And look'd to find me swift enslav'd;
+    Offer'd a quill from his own wing,
+    E'en from his mother's swan--to sing;
+    Ay, often Venus' love-wreaths weaving,
+    On my brow the symbol leaving:
+    He would laugh, and Poet style me,
+    And with flatteries beguile me:
+    'Begone, begone, O wanton boy!
+    Thy mother too, though Queen of Joy.'
+    Thus did I speak. Naught of my song
+    Shall thy tyranny prolong:
+    Get thee, with thy torch and arrow,
+    Unto the Veronian sparrow;                    _Catullus_
+    Or the Bilbilician win                         _Martial_
+    To embalm thy pleasant sin:
+    Be thy assaults however vile,
+    He on thee will smile, and smile:
+    He, thy love-locks curious twining,
+    Shall ne'er come short of thy inclining:
+    He thine own poet is, and will
+    Give thee full license to instill
+    By jest and quip and jollity
+    Whate'er it listeth thee to try.
+    Alas, that genius so august
+    Should pander to adult'rous lust!
+    Alas, that he, poet so true,
+    Should poet be, Cupid, to you!
+    O, what harvest of rich thought
+    Judean seed from him had brought,
+    If, up-climbing holy mountains,
+    He had drunk from hallow'd fountains!
+    Mother and son, I see them now,
+    As round her neck his arms he'd throw,
+    Nestling with his azure eyes,
+    Her bosom's splendour for his skies;
+    Kissing, and kiss'd in sweet reply,
+    As soft winds o'er violets die:
+    While she all her love discloses,
+    Murm'ring on his lips' twin roses:
+    His lips like hers, and hers like his,
+    Glued i' the rapture of their bliss.
+    Visions like these would Martial give
+    With dainty touch and fugitive.
+    The heav'nly Weeper there would bow
+    Before her Lord, and pay her vow:
+    Now is uttered gentle sigh,
+    And now great tears gleam in her eye:
+    That, offspring of the stainless Light;
+    This, of the Pyx's mystic rite:
+    In his verse, tears, sighs should fall
+    Delicate and musical:
+    In fine, whate'er in mine were mean
+    Should radiant grow as sunlight's sheen.
+    Go, then, go, insatiate boy,
+    Nor me longer seek t' annoy:
+    I've said it, nor shall e'er unsay:
+    Go to thy mother, and there play.
+    Why wilt thou whisper flattery,
+    And praise my Muse's witchery--
+    Verses that reck not of thy smarts--
+    And smite me with thy fire-tipp'd darts?
+    Go, get thee gone! Thy haunt must be
+    Where there's wanton revelry,
+    And the young minx with toss o' curls
+    Opes her lips to show her pearls;
+    Opes her lips, with some gross jest
+    A foolish lover to arrest.
+    Thither go, where falsely-fair
+    Beauty is bought and sold; and where,
+    Flaunting with painted cheek, and eye
+    A-flame to ev'ry devilry,
+    Base women seek base men, and tingle
+    Their hot veins as they commingle,
+    Baring their charms, 'neath alien roses
+    Ministering such sweets as Hell composes.
+    Hence, therefore, Cupid! Venus, hence!
+    I yield not to your violence:
+    I've said it, nor shall you allure
+    My heart to own your sway impure.
+    Another Cypris holds me now,
+    Another Love receives my vow:
+    For Love is here and Mother kind,
+    But she a Virgin; He not blind.
+    O Child! O Lord! great Mother blest!
+    O wonder of thy holy breast!
+    O Love, whose quiver's sacred pow'rs
+    Ne'er send forth arrow that devours,
+    Unless a shaft pierce the pure heart,
+    That Thou mayst heal the bless�d smart.
+    Me whom Thou piercest, holy Child,
+    Pierce, pierce me sure with arrows mild.
+    Let Thy quiver grow more light
+    As Thou dost me yearning smite:
+    What my soul pants for, and still drinks
+    And drinks, and thirsts, and never thinks
+    To get enough, O give, still give.
+    Thus would I die; thus would I live.
+    Transfix this heart, Child: howsoe'er
+    Thou comest,--crown'd with thorns and bare,
+    Or great with the awful heraldry
+    Of nail and spear for Faith to see;
+    Or greater still, on the holy rood
+    Wet with the terror of Thy Blood;
+    Or great'st of all, Thyself alone
+    In meek might of Thy Passion,--
+    Still pierce this heart; O pierce it, Child:
+    _Thus_ would I drink in rapture wild.
+    O that Thy bow might wound me still!
+    O that of wounds I had my fill!
+    Or, if some swifter wing there be,
+    That it would fly to me--to me!
+    Behold, my Saviour, this poor breast,
+    And take it as Thine arrows' nest:
+    I seek not to be spar'd one blow:
+    Thus would I have Thee still my foe;
+    Still yearn that wounded I may be;
+    For wounds like these are ecstasy.
+    These are my wishes: and my Books,
+    May they be his who on them looks!
+    Seek'st, Reader, to be mine? Then, last,
+    I ask thy eyes that they be chaste;
+    Chaste, but not tearless; my dear Love
+    To meet and know, as from above
+    He comes, and still the Crucified,
+    Proclaiming how for man He died
+    By thorn, and nail, and spear, and cry,
+    And bitterest words of agony:
+    Say, should He meet thee thus in blood,
+    Couldst thou e'en grudge of tears a flood?
+    Ah, hard thy heart as e'er was stone,
+    That all unmov'd can hear Him groan,
+    Nor by a throb of feeling show
+    Thou hast a sense of His great woe;
+    While here He treasured human tears
+    Hushing sad Mary in her fears,
+    As to His feet in shame she crept,
+    And with white drops them all bewept:
+    More than Assyrian gold to thee
+    Such tears, if thou their worth couldst see.
+    His love with thine again will glow,
+    His tears afresh with thine will flow.
+    Here, Reader, glancing through my Book,
+    Thou shalt upon His cradle look:
+    To His sweet obsequies now turn,
+    And mark how still my love shall burn.
+    Here, with His Mother and with me,
+    My ceaseless sacred joys shalt see:
+    Whether Earth's Princes speechless stand
+    As sudden darkness wraps the land;
+    Or He lies hidden in the Cave,
+    A temple now, and not a grave;
+    But the third morning shall restore Him:
+    Ah, much too slow those days pass o'er Him!
+    Be true, ye shadows of the tomb;
+    Enfold Him in a kindly gloom:
+    Thus wilt thou pray; while my dear Light
+    (O strange!) demands the help of Night.
+    In fine, whate'er my Book shall say
+    To my dear Love--however pray,
+    However fear, however weep,
+    And with sweet tears its pages steep--
+    My words thy willing words will move.
+    'O, not enough these things I love;
+    But they are sweet all things above;
+    And certainly the love of Him
+    Deserves all other loves to dim.'
+
+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 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, 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!
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Pharisaeus et Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 14-19.
+
+    En duo templum adeunt, diversis mentibus ambo.
+      Ille procul trepido lumine signat humum:
+    It gravis hic, et in alta ferox penetralia tendit.
+      Plus habet hic templi; plus habet ille Dei.
+
+    {Andres, idou, heteroisi noois, dy� hiron es�lthon.
+      T�lothen orrh�dei keinos ho phrikaleos;
+    All' ho men h�s sobaros n�ou mychon engys hikanei;
+      Pleion ho men n�ou, pleion ho d' eiche Theou.}
+
+_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.                        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Two men unto the Temple went to pray.
+    That, with a downcast look, stood far away;
+    This, near the altar, himself highly bore:
+    This of the Temple, that of God hath more.            B.
+
+
+II.
+
+_In asinum Christi vectorem._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille[43] suum didicit quondam objurgare magistrum:
+      Et quid ni discas tu celebrare tuum?
+    Mirum non minus est, te jam potuisse tacere,
+      Illum quam fuerat tum potuisse loqui.
+
+_Upon the asse that bore our Saviour._
+
+    Hath only Anger an omnipotence
+                        In eloquence?
+    Within the lips of Love and Joy doth dwell
+                        No miracle?
+    Why else had Balaam's asse a tongue to chide
+                        His master's pride,
+    And thou, heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne're a word
+                        To praise thy Lord?
+    That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder
+                        Was a great wonder;
+    But O, methinkes, 'tis a farre greater one
+                        That thou find'st none.          CR.
+
+MORE CLOSELY.
+
+    The ass of old had power to chide its wilful lord;
+    And hast not thou the power to speak one praiseful word?
+    Not less a marvel, sure, this silence is in thee
+    Than that the ass of old to speak had liberty.        G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_Dominus apud suos vilis._ Luc. iv. 28-29.
+
+    En consanguinei! patriis en exul in oris
+      Christus! et haud alibi tam peregrinus erat.
+    Qui socio demum pendebat sanguine latro,
+      O consanguineus quam fuit ille magis!
+
+_The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people._
+
+    See, O my kinsmen, what strange thing is this!
+    Christ in's own country a great stranger is.
+    The thief which bled upon the Cross with Thee
+    Was more ally'd in consanguinity.[44]                 B.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_Ad Bethesdae piscinam positus._ Joan. v. 1-16.
+
+    Quis novus hic refugis incumbit Tantalus undis,
+      Quem fallit toties tam fugitiva salus?
+    Unde hoc naufragium felix medicaeque procellae,
+      Vitaque tempestas quam pretiosa dedit?
+
+_The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda._
+
+    What Tantalus is this, who health still craves
+    So oft, yet vainly, from the refluent waves?
+    And whence this happy wreck, this healing strife,
+    This storm that drifts its victim into life?         CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What new Tantalus is here,
+      Couch'd by this swift-ebbing wave,
+    Whom the healing flood comes near,
+      Then retiring fails to save?
+
+    O, what happy shipwreck this,
+      And a cure by conflict wrought!
+    Strange that woe should thus win bliss,
+      From disaster life be brought!                      G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Christus ad Thomam._ Joan. xx. 26-29.
+
+    Saeva fides, voluisse meos tractare dolores!
+      Crudeles digiti, sic didicisse Deum!
+    Vulnera ne dubites, vis tangere nostra: sed, eheu,
+      Vulnera, dum dubitas, tu graviora facis.
+
+_Christ to Thomas._
+
+    Harsh faith, and wouldst thou probe these signs of woe?
+    O cruel fingers, would ye prove God so?
+    Touch them, lest thou shouldst doubt? Then have thy will;
+    But, ah, thy doubting makes them deeper still.       CL.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O cruel faith, afresh my pangs to move!
+    O ruthless fingers, thus their Lord to prove!
+    See, touch the wounds; doubt not; but with such doubt
+    Thou makest all those wounds afresh gush out.         A.
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Quisquis perdiderit animam suam mea causa inveniet eam._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    I, vita, i, perdam: mihi mors tua, Christe, reperta est:
+      Mors tua vita mea est; mors tibi vita mea.
+    Aut ego te abscondam Christi, mea vita, sepulchro:
+      Non adeo procul est tertius ille dies.
+
+_Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it._
+
+    Away, my life! Lord Christ, I have Thy death:
+    My life's Thy death, and Thy death gives me breath.
+    But come, my life, I'll hide thee in His tomb:
+    The third day hence is not so long to come.           A.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Primo mane venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena._ Joan. xx. 1.
+
+    Tu matutinos praevertis, sancta, rubores,
+      Magdala; sed jam tum Sol tuus ortus erat.[45]
+    Jamque vetus merito vanos sol non agit ortus,
+      Et tanti radios non putat esse suos.
+    Quippe aliquo, reor, ille novus jam nictat in astro,
+      Et se nocturna parvus habet facula.
+    Quam velit � tantae vel nuntius esse diei,
+      Atque novus Soli Lucifer ire novo!
+
+
+_[Mary] Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto the
+sepulchre._
+
+    Thou holy Magdalene,
+          Ere rosy morn was seen,
+              Awokest; but e'en then
+                Thy Sun was in thy ken.
+
+    Now the great olden sun,
+          Rising as wont upon
+              The earth, is wilder�d
+                With new beams round him shed.
+
+    Lo, as a star he seems,
+          Or torch with nigh-quench'd beams;
+              Keeping himself still small
+                Before the Lord of All.
+
+    How well might'st thou, O Sun,
+          Submit to be outshone,
+              And, as a morning-star,
+                Herald One grander far!                  G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Quinque panes ad quinque hominum millia._ Joan. vi. 9.
+
+    En mensae faciles, redivivaque vulnera coenae,
+      Quaeque indefessa provocat ora dape!
+    Aucta Ceres stupet arcana se crescere messe.
+      Denique quid restat? Pascitur ipse cibus.
+
+_On the miracle of multiplyed loaves._
+
+    See here an easie feast that knows no wound,
+      That under Hunger's teeth will needs be found;
+    A subtle harvest of unbounded bread:
+      What would ye more? Here Food itselfe is fed.      CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Eas'ly-furnish'd table!
+                  And feast increas'd by eating:
+                    Still the mouth entreating.
+
+    The bread itself, unable
+                  To tell whence it flows,
+                    Finds it most surely grows.
+
+    Finds itself guest--no fable!
+                  Whence is the mystic dower?
+                    From Him Who is all power.            G.
+
+
+IX.
+
+_�thiops lotus._ Act. viii. 38.
+
+    Ille niger sacris exit, quam lautus! ab undis:
+        Nec frustra �thiopem nempe lavare fuit.
+    Mentem quam niveam piceae cutis umbra fovebit?
+        Tam volet et nigros sancta Columba lares.
+
+_On the baptized Ethiopian._
+
+    Let it no longer be a forlorne hope
+                    To wash an Ethiope:
+    He's washt; his gloomy skin a peacefull shade
+                    For his white soule is made:
+    And now, I doubt not, the Eternall Dove
+                    A black-fac'd house will love.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    How fair this Ethiop comes from th' holy fount!
+    To wash a Black we may not vain account.
+    How bright a soul is in a cloudy skin!
+    The Dove now loves a black house to dwell in.         B.
+
+
+X.
+
+_Publicanus procul stans percutiebat pectus suum._ Luc. xviii. 13.
+
+    Ecce hic peccator timidus petit advena templum:
+      Quodque audet solum, pectora moesta ferit.
+    Fide miser; pulsaque fores has fortiter: illo
+      Invenies templo tu propiore Deum.
+
+_The publican standing afar off smote on his breast._
+
+    Lo, a sinner, timid stranger,
+        Stranger to the Lord our God,
+    Seeks, in consciousness of danger,
+        Where to leave sin's awful load.
+    He to the Temple now is come,
+        Bow'd in dread beside the door;
+    His pallid lips, behold, are dumb;
+        He smites his bosom, dares no more.
+    Ah, distress'd one, smite thee there
+        In _that_ temple, God is near.                  G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_[In] obolum viduae._ Marc. xii. 44.
+
+    Gutta brevis nummi, vitae patrona senilis,
+      E digitis stillat non dubitantis anus;
+    Istis multa vagi spumant de gurgite census:
+      Isti abjecerunt scilicet; illa dedit.
+
+    {Kermatioio bracheia rhanis, biotoio t' aphaur�s
+      Herkos, apostazei cheiros apo tromeras.
+    Tois de anaskirta polys aphros anaideos olbou.
+      hoi men aperrhipton; keina ded�ke monon.}
+
+_The widow's mites._
+
+    Two mites, two drops--yet all her house and land--
+    Falle from a steady heart though trembling hand:
+    The others' wanton wealth foams high and brave.
+    The other cast away; she only gave.                  CR.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Maria vero assidens ad pedes ejus audiebat eum._ Luc. x. 39.
+
+    Aspice, namque novum est, ut ab hospite pendeat hospes!
+      Hinc ori parat, hoc sumit ab ore cibos.
+    Tune epulis adeo es, soror, officiosa juvandis,
+      Et sinis has, inquit, Martha, perire dapes?
+
+_Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word._
+
+    Behold, a new thing here--host hanging on her Guest!
+      Preparing for His mouth, His mouth's words are her feast!
+    O Martha sister, spare thy labour and thy cost:
+      Tending the food that perisheth, diviner food is lost. G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+_In Spiritus Sancti descensum._ Act. ii.
+
+    Ferte sinus, �, ferte: cadit vindemia coeli,
+      Sanctaque ab aethereis volvitur uva jugis.
+    Felices nimium, queis tam bona musta bibuntur;
+      In quorum gremium lucida pergit hiems!
+    En caput, en ut nectareo micat et micat astro;
+      Gaudet et in roseis viva corona comis.
+    Illis, � Superi, quis sic neget ebrius esse?
+      Illis, ne titubent, dant sua vina faces.
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Bear, O bosoms, bear ye what Heaven's vintage showers,
+    Sacred clusters pouring from ethereal bowers.
+    Too happy, surely, ye who drink of wine so good;
+    It comes into your bosoms a sparkling, cooling flood.
+    Behold, with nectar'd star each head is shining, shining;
+    Around your purpl'd locks a crown of life entwining.
+    O Spirit of all flesh, to drink who'd be denied,
+    Since Thou, lest they should falter, mak'st wine a torch to guide? G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Congestis omnibus peregre profectus est._ Luc. xv. 13.
+
+    Dic mihi, quo tantos properas, puer auree, nummos?
+        Quorsum festinae conglomerantur opes?
+    Cur tibi tota vagos ructans patrimonia census?
+        Non poterunt siliquae nempe minoris emi?
+
+
+ON THE PRODIGALL.
+
+_The younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far
+country._
+
+    Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
+    Whither away so frolick? why so glad?
+    What all thy wealth in counsile? all thy state?
+    Are husks so deare? troth, 'tis a mighty rate.       CR.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_Non solum vinciri, sed et mori paratus sum._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Non modo vinc'la, sed et mortem tibi, Christe, subibo,
+      Paulus ait, docti callidus arte doli.
+    Diceret hoc aliter: Tibi non modo velle ligari,
+      Christe, sed et solvi[46] nempe paratus ero.
+
+_I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye._
+
+    Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my eares,
+    At those hard words man's cowardize calls feares.
+    Save those of feare, no other bands feare I;
+    Nor other death than this--the feare to die.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Not bonds for Thee, Lord, but death too I'll brave,
+    Says Paul, adept in double-meanings grave.
+    The words meant more: his wish was to be bound
+    For Christ; but loos�d too, and with Him found.       G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Herodem_ {sk�l�kobr�ton}. Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Ille Deus, Deus! haec populi vox unica: tantum,
+      Vile genus, vermes credere velle negant.
+    At cito se miseri, cito nunc errasse fatentur;
+      Carnes degustant, ambrosiamque putant.
+
+_On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms._
+
+    A god! a god! one-mouth'd the people cry;
+    Only the worms, vile tribe, his claim deny.
+    Yet they, too, soon confess themselves astray,
+    For in his flesh they find ambrosia.                 CL.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Videns ventum magnum timuit, et cum coepisset demergi, clamavit, &c._
+Matt. xiv.
+
+    Petre, cades, �, si dubitas: �, fide: nec ipsum,
+      Petre, negat fidis aequor habere fidem.
+    Pondere pressa suo subsidunt caetera: solum,
+      Petre, tuae mergit te levitatis onus.[47]
+
+_When he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid; and beginning to sink,
+he cried, &c._
+
+    Peter! doubt, and thou sinkest! O, believe;
+      The sea will not thy faith, Peter, deceive.
+    Things by their weight subside into the wave;
+      Thy lightness, Peter, threats a wat'ry grave.       G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Obtulit eis pecunias._ Act. viii. 18.
+
+    Quorsum hos hic nummos profers? quorsum, impie Simon?
+        Non ille hic Judas, sed tibi Petrus adest.
+    Vis emisse Deum? potius, precor, hoc age, Simon,
+        Si potes, ipse prius daemona vende tuum.
+
+_He offered them money._
+
+    Money! what wouldst thou, impious? Look and see,
+    'Tis Peter, not Iscariot, speaks to thee.
+    Wouldst thou buy God? Nay, Simon, change thy tone,
+    And try to sell that demon of thine own. CL.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_Umbra S. Petri medetur aegrotis._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Conveniunt alacres, sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras,
+      Atque umbras fieri, creditis? umbra vetat.
+    O Petri umbra potens, quae non miracula praestat?
+      Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus.
+
+_The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick._
+
+    Beneath that shadow they delight to crowd;
+    To turn to shades by that shade not allow'd.
+    From Peter's shadow what may we not hope,
+    Now all thy glory it sustains, O Pope!                G.
+
+
+XX.
+
+_Tetigit linguam ejus, &c. ... et loquebatur ... et praecepit illis ne
+cui dicerent: illi vero eo magis praedicabant._ Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Christe, jubes muta ora loqui; muta ora loquuntur:
+        Sana tacere jubes ora; nec illa tacent.
+    Si digito tunc usus eras, muta ora resolvens;
+        Nonne opus est tota nunc tibi, Christe, manu?
+
+_The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence._
+
+    Christ bids the dumbe tongue speake; it speakes: the sound
+    Hee charges to be quiet; it runs round.
+    If in the first He us'd His finger's touch,
+    His hand's whole strength here could not be too much. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,
+                  Straightway words flow:
+    Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they
+                  Thee disobey.
+    If, then, a single finger Thou didst use
+                  Mute tongues to loose,
+    Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young
+                  Have ceaseless tongue.                  G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit._ Luc. x. 32.
+
+    Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?
+      O dolor! � nostris vulnera vulneribus!
+    Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!
+      Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.
+
+_And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and passed by._
+
+    Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
+    Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?
+    The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,
+    Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?
+        Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.
+    O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:
+        They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more.      G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Canst look, and by with look so tranquil pass,
+    Nor heed my wounds? O, wounds on wounds, alas!
+    O peace, too grim! on it set little store:
+    Who looks unmov'd on misery makes it more.            A.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii.
+
+    Dum linquunt Christum, ah morbus! sanantur euntes:
+      Ipse etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+    At sani Christum, mens ah male-sana! relinquunt:
+      Ipsa etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+
+_The ungrateful lepers._
+
+    Whilst leaving Christ--ah, fell disease!--
+                They're heal�d as they go:
+    Their malady their medicine is,
+                Because He will'd it so.
+    But heal�d now--ah, mind diseas'd!--
+                They from the Lord depart:
+    Their healing their disease is now,
+                Bred in an ingrate heart.                 G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+_Ne soliciti estote tu crastinum._ Matt. vi. 34.
+
+    I, miser, inque tuas rape non tua tempora curas:
+      Et nondum natis perge perire malis.
+    Mi querulis satis una dies, satis angitur horis:
+      Una dies lacrymis mi satis uda suis.
+    Non mihi venturos vacat expectare dolores:
+      Nolo ego, nolo hodie crastinus esse miser.
+
+_Be ye not fretted about to-morrow._
+
+    Go, wretched mortal, antedate the day,
+                Fill thee with care;
+    Work thyself mis'ries, in a perverse way,
+                Before they're there.
+    Enough for me the day's cares in the day,
+                The passing hour;
+    Enough the tears that daily, yea or nay,
+                In sorrow low'r.
+    I have no leisure thus to antedate
+                The coming woe,
+    Nor to-day darken with to-morrow's fate;
+                And so I go.                              G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Wretch, to thy woes add not
+                to-morrow morn;
+    And haste not thou to
+                groan with ills unborn.
+    Each day's laments, each
+                hour's griefs, me suffice;
+    Each morn, noon, eve, with
+                rueful weeping eyes.
+    No leisure is to look for
+                griefs to be:
+    Stir not to-day to-morrow's
+                pains in me.                              A.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_A telonio Matthaeus._ Matt. ix. 9.
+
+    Ah satis, ah nimis est: noli ultra ferre magistrum,
+      Et lucro domino turpia colla dare.
+    Jam fuge; jam, Matthaee, feri fuge regna tyranni:
+      Inque bonam, felix i fugitive,[48] crucem.
+
+_Matthew called from the receipt of custom._
+
+    Enough, too much; no more a master's yoke
+    Endure, nor bow to lordly Lucre's stroke:
+    His service from thy slavish neck is broke.
+
+    Flee, Matthew, flee the cruel tyrant's sway,
+    And hie thee, like a happy runaway,
+    To the sweet cross that waits for thee to-day.    R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_Viduae filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    En redeunt, lacrymasque breves nova gaudia pensant;
+      Bisque illa est, uno in pignore, facta parens.
+    Felix quae magis es nati per funera mater:
+      Amisisse, iterum cui peperisse fuit.
+
+_The dead son re-delivered to his mother._
+
+    Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd,
+      Brief sorrow is exil'd,
+    And the lorn widow is a mother made
+      Twice in her only child.
+
+    O happy mother! then a mother most
+      When all her hopes seem'd vain:
+    Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost,
+      And found him born again.                          CL.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_Bonum intrare in coelos cum uno oculo, &c._ Matt. xviii. 9.
+
+    Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum:
+      Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?
+    Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus
+      Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.
+
+_It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c._
+
+    One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more,
+    To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore
+    Of eyes that has but Argus' store!
+    Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee,
+    O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be
+    All and every whit of me.                            CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give
+      A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.
+    All Argus' eyes were no superlative
+      To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.
+
+    Or, O my God, if unto those who die,
+    It be Thy will only to give one eye,
+    Grant my whole body that one eye to be,
+    That thus I may forever gaze on Thee.                 G.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatur._ Luc. xiv. 2-4.
+
+    Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso
+      Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis:
+    Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas;
+      Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.
+
+            Himself is his own sea;
+            Dropsy his malady
+            In sad severity.
+
+            But Christ the Lord he sees,
+            Who touching him him frees;
+            Now joyous and at ease.
+
+            Again, as I opine,
+            The Lord transmutes to wine
+            By miracle divine;
+
+            And now, still more and more,
+            His own wine-water store
+            Pours mirth at ev'ry pore.                  G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Non erat iis in diversorio locus._ Luc. ii. 7.
+
+    Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?
+      Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.
+    O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!
+      Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.
+
+_There was no room for them in the inn._
+
+    No place for Him! So Him you drive away;
+    You drive away your God, your God. O, stay!
+    O height of human madness! wonders rare!
+    No place for Him! without Whom no place were.         G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite._ Luc. xvi.
+
+    Felix, �, lacrymis, � Lazare, ditior istis,
+        Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes:
+    Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis,
+        Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.
+
+_Upon Lazarus his teares._
+
+    Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares,
+        Than Dives in the roabes he weares:
+    He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well
+        With th' purple he must weare in Hell!           CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears
+    Than he who midst his riches purple wears.
+    Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his:
+    Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti._ Matt. xxvi. 65.
+
+    Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis:
+      Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.
+    Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos
+      Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.
+
+_Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ._
+
+    Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!
+    His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.
+    Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he
+    Who leaves not God His own Divinity!                  G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant;
+      O verbi, � dextrae dulcia regna tuae!
+    Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?
+      Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.[49]
+
+_But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed
+not on Him._
+
+    For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord;
+    Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.
+    Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus
+    Made unbelief itself miraculous.                     CL.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_Ad S. Andream piscatorem._ Marc. i. 16.
+
+    Quippe potes pulchre captare et fallere pisces;
+      Centum illic discis lubricus ire dolis.
+    Heus, bone piscator! tendit sua retia Christus:
+      Artem inverte, et jam tu quoque disce capi.
+
+_To S. Andrew, fisherman._
+
+    How cleverly the fishes he beguiles!
+    He learns to use a hundred cunning wiles.
+    Ho, thou good Fisher: Christ casts out His net;
+    Now haste thou to be caught; for thee 'tis set.       G.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Ego sum vox, &c._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, genitor cur tibi mutus erat?
+    Ista tui fuerant quam mira silentia patris!
+      Vocem non habuit tunc quoque cum genuit.
+
+_I am the voice._
+
+    'I am the voice,' thou sayest. Thou holy John,
+      If voice thou art, why was thy father dumb?
+    O silence strange! which as I muse upon,
+      I see thy voice from God, not man, did come.        G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Vincula sponte decidunt._ Act. xii. 7.
+
+    Qui ferro Petrum cumulas, durissime custos,
+      A ferro disces mollior esse tuo.
+    Ecce fluit, nodisque suis evolvitur ultro:
+      I, fatue, et vinc'lis vincula pone tuis.
+
+_The chains spontaneously fall off._
+
+    Who loadest him with chains, thou jailer stern,
+    To be more kind e'en from those chains shalt learn.
+    Lo, they dissolve, and their own knots untie.
+    Go, fool, and chains with chains to fetter try.       G.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+IN DIEM OMNIUM SANCTORUM.
+
+_Ne laedite terrain, neque mare, neque arbores, quousque obsignaverimus
+servos Dei nostri in frontibus suis._ Rev. vii. 3.
+
+    Nusquam immitis agat ventus sua murmura, nusquam
+      Sylva tremat, crispis sollicitata comis.
+    Aequa Thetis placide allabens ferat oscula Terrae;
+      Terra suos Thetidi pandat amica sinus:
+    Undique pax effusa piis volet aurea pennis,
+      Frons bona dum signo est quaeque notata suo.
+    Ah, quid in hoc opus est signis aliunde petendis?
+      Frons bona sat lacrymis quaeque notata suis.
+
+_On All-Saints' Day._
+
+    Let wind with murmurs harsh nowhere be heard;
+    Nowhere wood tremble, its curl'd tresses stirr'd.
+    Calm-flowing Sea greet Earth with kisses bland,
+    Earth unto Sea its bosom kind expand.
+    Let holy Peace on golden pinions steal,
+    Till each blest brow is mark'd with its own seal.
+    Ah, why elsewhere for this, need signs be sought?
+    To each blest brow tears seal enough have brought.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In die Conjurationis sulphureae._
+
+    Quam bene dispositis annus dat currere festis!
+      Post omnes Sanctos omne scelus sequitur.
+
+_Upon the Powder-day._
+
+    How fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow!
+    All-mischiefe comes after All-Hallow.[50]            CR.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Deus sub utero Virginis._ Luc. i. 31.
+
+    Ecce tuus, Natura, pater; pater hic tuus hic est:
+      Ille, uterus matris quem tenet, ille pater.
+    Pellibus exiguis arctatur Filius ingens,
+      Quem tu non totum, crede, nec ipsa capis.
+    Quanta uteri, Regina, tui reverentia tecum est,
+      Dum jacet hic coelo sub breviore Deus!
+    Conscia divino gliscunt praecordia motu,
+      Nec vehit aethereos sanctior aura polos.
+    Quam bene sub tecto tibi concipiuntur eodem
+      Vota, et, vota cui concipienda, Deus!
+    Quod nubes alia, et tanti super atria coeli
+      Quaerunt, invenient hoc tua vota domi.
+    O felix anima haec, quae tam sua gaudia tangit!
+      Sub conclave suo cui suus ignis adest.
+    Corpus amet, licet, illa suum, neque sidera malit:
+      Quod vinc'lum est aliis, hoc habet illa domum.
+    Sola jaces, neque sola; toro quocunque recumbis,
+      Illo estis positi tuque tuusque toro.
+    Immo ubi casta tuo posita es cum conjuge conjunx;
+      Quod mirum magis est, es tuus ipsa torus.
+
+_God in the Virgin's womb._
+
+    Thy Father, Nature, here thy Father see:
+    Whom womb of mother holds, thy Father He.
+    Scant teguments the mighty Son enchain,
+    Whom thou thyself not wholly dost contain.
+    What reverence, Queen, to thine own womb is given,
+    While God lies here beneath a lesser heaven!
+    With sacred motion swells her conscious breast;
+    Nor are the poles upborne by airs more blest.
+    'Neath the same roof are well conceiv'd by thee
+    Vows, and the God to whom vows offer'd be.
+    What other prayers o'er clouds and sky's vast bound
+    Seek, by thy prayers this will at home be found.
+    Blest soul, so nigh to thy supreme desire,
+    To which 'neath its own shrine dwells its own fire.
+    She may her body love, nor heaven prefer:
+    What chains down others is a home to her.
+    Lone, yet not lone, where'er thou dost recline;
+    On that same couch are laid both thou and thine.
+    Nay, when with thy chaste spouse, chaste wife thou'rt laid--
+    More strange, thyself thine own blest couch art made.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores Stephani._ Act. vii. 59.
+
+    Frustra illum increpitant, frustra vaga saxa: nec illi
+      Grandinis, heu, saevae! dura procella nocet.
+    Ista potest tolerare, potest nescire; sed illi,
+      Quae sunt in vestro pectore, saxa nocent.
+
+_To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen._
+
+    Vainly ye cast stones, Jews; they give no shock:
+      Shower as the hail-storm, it is all in vain.
+    These he shall bear, and heed not: 'tis the rock
+      Of your obdurate hearts that gives him pain.        G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_D. Joannes in exilio._ Rev. i. 9.
+
+    Exul, amor Christi est: Christum tamen invenit exul:
+      Et solitos illic invenit ille sinus.
+    Ah, longo, aeterno ah terras indicite nobis
+      Exilio, Christi si sinus exilium est.
+
+_St. John in exile._
+
+    Love to Christ an exile is,
+      Yet the exile findeth Christ;
+    All the dear familiar bliss,
+      And the bosom-joys unpric'd.
+    Ah, Lord, exile long to us,
+      Never-ending e'en be sent,
+    If we find Christ's bosom thus
+      As our place of banishment.                         G.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Ad infantes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16.
+
+    Fundite ridentes animas, effundite coelo;
+      Discet ibi vestra, � quam bene! lingua loqui.
+    Nec vos lac vestrum et maternos quaerite fontes:
+      Quae vos expectat lactea tota via est.
+
+_To the infant martyrs._
+
+    Go, smiling soules, your new-built cages breake,
+    In Heav'n you'l learne to sing ere here to speake:
+    Nor let the milky fonts that bath your thirst
+                            Bee your delay;
+    The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
+                            Milke all the way.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Depart, ye smiling souls, to Heaven depart:
+    Your tongues may there learn best the speaking art.
+    Stay not to suck, sweet children, do not stay:
+    Cry not; for you shall go the milky way.              B.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_Quaerit Jesum suum beata Virgo._ Luc. ii. 45.
+
+    Ah, redeas miserae, redeas, puer alme, parenti;
+      Ah, neque te coelis tam cito redde tuis.
+    Coelum nostra tuum fuerint, �, brachia, si te
+      Nostra suum poterunt brachia ferre Deum.
+
+_The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus._
+
+    Ah, to Thy mother, ah, return,
+                  my fair, belov�d Son;
+    Return not to Thy native skies,
+                  my heaven-descended One.
+    Thy mother's arms Thy heaven would be,
+                  enfolding Thee around;
+    If thus within these innocent arms
+                  the great God might be found.[51]       G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Non sum dignus ut sub tecta mea venias._ Matt. viii. 8.
+
+    In tua tecta Deus veniet: tuus haud sinit illud
+      Et pudor atque humili in pectore celsa fides.
+    Illum ergo accipies, quoniam non accipis: ergo
+      In te jam veniet, non tua tecta Deus.[52]
+
+
+_I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roofe._
+
+    Thy God was making hast into thy roofe;
+    Thy humble faith and feare keepes him aloofe.
+    Hee'll be thy guest, because He may not be;
+    Hee'll come--into thy house? No, into thee.          CR.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Christus accusatus nihil respondet._ Matt. xxvii. 12.
+
+    Nil ait: � sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!
+      Ponderis � quanti res nihil illud erat!
+    Ille olim verbum qui dixit, et omnia fecit,
+      Verbum non dicens omnia nunc reficit.
+
+_And He answered them nothing._
+
+    O mighty Nothing! unto thee,
+    Nothing, wee owe all things that bee.
+    God spake once when Hee all things made,
+    Hee sav'd all when Hee Nothing said.
+    The world was made of Nothing then;
+    'Tis made by Nothing now againe.                     CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    'Nothing He said.'
+    O precious silence of that sacred tongue!
+    O what vast interests on that Nothing hung!
+    He who once spoke the word, and all things made,
+    Now re-makes all, when not a word is said.            G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Spesne meas tandem ergo mei tenuere lacerti?
+      Ergo bibunt oculos lumina nostra tuos?
+    Ergo bibant: possintque novam sperare juventam:
+      O possint senii non meminisse sui!
+    Immo mihi potius mitem mors induat umbram,
+      Esse sub his oculis si tamen umbra potest.
+    Ah, satis est. Ego te vidi, puer auree, vidi:
+      Nil post te, nisi te, Christe, videre volo.[53]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    And is my hope grasp'd in these arms of mine
+    At last, and do these eyes drink light from Thine?
+    There let them drink with a new youth in store,
+    And feel the dimming touch of age no more.
+    Nay rather, if Thine eyes can give it room,
+    Let Death's soft shadow gently o'er them come.
+    Thee have I seen, O Child: enough for me:
+    I care not to behold aught else but Thee.            CL.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Verbum inter spinas._ Luc. viii. 7.
+
+    Saepe Dei verbum sentes cadit inter, et atrum
+      Miscet spina procax, ah, male juncta! latus.
+    Credo quidem: nam sic spinas, ah, scilicet inter
+      Ipse Deus verbum tu quoque, Christe, cadis.
+
+
+_The Word among thorns._
+
+    Often and often 'good words' fall
+    Where thorns and briars rankly crawl;
+    Their spines lay hold, and choke, and pierce--
+    Like to wild beast in hunger fierce.
+    I know it: for like flash of sword
+    I read 'twas so with Thee THE WORD:
+    God, e'en my God, Thou wast in truth;
+    But fell'st 'mong thorns, which show'd no ruth.       G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+_Sabbatum Judaicum et Christianum._ Luc. xiv. 5.
+
+    Res eadem vario quantum distinguitur usu:
+      Nostra hominem servant sabbata, vestra bovem.
+    Observent igitur, pacto quid justius isto?
+      Sabbata nostra homines, sabbata vestra boves.
+
+_The Judaic and Christian Sabbath._
+
+    How diff'rent grows a thing through diff'rent use!
+    _Our_ Sabbaths serve men, _yours_ give oxen truce,
+    Be this agreed--arrangement fitter none--
+    _Our_ Sabbath men keep, _yours_ oxen alone.           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_Ad verbum Dei sanatur caecus._ Marc. x. 52.
+
+    Christe, loquutus eras, � sacra licentia verbi:
+      Jamque novus caeci fluxit in ora dies.
+    Jam credo, Nemo[54] est, sicut Tu, Christe, loquutus:
+      Auribus? immo oculis, Christe, loquutus eras.
+
+
+_The blind cured by the word of our Saviour._
+
+    Thou spak'st the word--Thy word's a law;
+    Thou spak'st, and straight the blind man saw.
+    To speak and make the blind to see,
+    Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.
+    To speak thus was to speak, say I,
+    Not to his eare, but to his eye.                     CR.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+_Onus meum leve est._ Matt. xi. 30.
+
+    Esse levis quicunque voles, onus accipe Christi:
+      Ala tuis humeris, non onus, illud erit.
+    Christi onus an quaeris quam sit grave? scilicet audi,
+      Tam grave, ut ad summos te premat usque polos.
+
+_My burden is light._
+
+    Askest how thou may'st lightly loaded be?
+      Christ's _burden_ take from me:
+    A wing to lift, no load to press thee down,
+      Thou it wilt feel and own.
+    Dost ask how heavy may Christ's _burden_ be?
+      Then list, O man, to me:
+    So _heavy_, that whoe'er 'neath it enrolls,
+      It lifts to the highest poles.                      G.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+_Miraculum quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 1-13.
+
+    Ecce, vagi venit unda cibi; venit indole sacra
+      Fortis, et in dentes fertilis innumeros.
+    Quando erat invictae tam sancta licentia coenae?
+      Illa famem populi poscit, et illa fidem.
+
+_On the miracle of loaves._
+
+    Now, Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on Thee;
+    Thou to their teeth hast prov'd Thy deity.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See, loaves in heaps, blest growth, spread far and wide,
+    For mouths innumerable multiplied.
+    Feast holy, free, invincible like this,
+    Claims the crowd's hunger, and their faith, I wis.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nunc scimus te habere daemonium._ Joan. viii. 52.
+
+    Aut Deus, aut saltem daemon tibi notior esset,
+      Gens mala, quae dicis daemona habere Deum.
+    Ignorasse Deum poteras, � caeca; sed oro,
+      Et patrem poteras tam male nosse tuum?
+
+_Now we know Thee to have a devil._
+
+    God or the devil by you
+                    ought better to be known,
+    Ye wicked ones, who charge
+                    your God a devil to own.
+    Ign'rant of God, indeed,
+                    ye well might be; but O,
+    The devil, your own father,
+                     how could ye fail to know?           G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    In gremio, quaeris, cur sic sua lumina Virgo
+      Ponat? ubi melius poneret illa, precor?
+    O ubi, quam coelo, melius sua lumina ponat?
+      Despicit, at coelum sic tamen illa videt.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness._
+
+    That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
+    'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.
+    The faire starre is well fixt, for where, O, where,
+    Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare?
+    'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heaven's God there lyes;
+    She can see Heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes.
+    This new guest to her eyes new lawes hath given:
+    'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven. CR.
+
+
+LII.
+
+_In vulnera Dei pendentis._
+
+    O frontis, lateris, manuumque pedumque cruores;
+      O quae purpureo flumina fonte patent:
+    In nostram, ut quondam, pes non valet ire salutem,
+      Sed natat; in fluviis, ah, natat ille suis.
+    Fixa manus; dat, fixa: pios bona dextera rores
+      Donat, et in donum solvitur ipsa suum.
+    O latus, � torrens; quis enim torrentior exit
+      Nilus, ubi pronis praecipitatur aquis?
+    Mille et mille simul cadit et cadit undique guttis
+      Frons: viden' ut saevus purpuret ora pudor?
+    Spinae hoc irriguae florent crudeliter imbre,
+      Inque novas sperant protinus ire rosas.
+    Quisque capillus it exiguo tener alveus amne,
+      Hoc quasi de rubro rivulus oceano.
+    O nimium vivae pretiosis amnibus undae:
+      Fons vitae nunquam verior ille fuit.
+
+_On the wounds of our crucified Lord._
+
+    O bleeding wounds of brow, feet, hands, and side;
+    Rivers which from a purple fount spread wide.
+    No more to save us now that foot can go,
+    But swims in streams which from its own wounds flow.
+    Transfix'd His hand yet gives--gives dewdrops holy,
+    And into its own gift is melted wholly.
+    O side, O torrent; for with torrent strong
+    What flooded Nile more swift is driven along?
+    Drops from His brow in thousands fall and fall;
+    See to His face a cruel blush they call.
+    By this sad shower the thorns unkindly nurst
+    Soon into new-blown roses hope to burst.
+    Each hair becomes a slender streamlet's bed,
+    As if a rivulet from this ocean red.
+    O waves too much alive with precious streams,
+    Nowhere a fount of life more truly gleams.[55]    R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_Quare cum Publicanis manducat Magister vester?_ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Ergo istis socium se peccatoribus addit?
+      Ergo istis sacrum non negat ille latus?
+    Tu, Pharisaee, rogas, Jesus cur fecerit istud?
+      Nae dicam: Jesus, non Pharisaeus, erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?_
+
+    Wherefore associates He with sinners vile?
+    Why hides He not His holy self the while?
+    Askest thou, Pharisee, how this can be?
+    Because 'tis Jesus, not a Pharisee.                  G.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+_Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus._
+
+    Ipsum, ipsum, precor, � potius mini, candide, monstra:
+      Ipsi, ipsi � lacrymis oro sit ire meis.
+    Si monstrare locum satis est, et dicere nobis,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus;
+    Ipsa ulnas monstrare meas, et dicere possum,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus.
+
+    {Phaidime, moi auton mallon moi deiknythi auton.
+      Autos mou, deomai, autos ech� dakrya.
+    Ei de topon moi deiknynai halis esti, kai eipein,
+      H�de teos, Mariam, �nide, keito anax;
+    Ankoinas mou deiknynai dynamai ge kai eipein,
+      H�de teos, Mariam, �nide, keito anax.}
+
+_Come, see the place where the Lord lay._
+
+    Show me Himselfe, Himselfe, bright Sir, O show
+    Which way my poore tears to Himselfe may goe.
+    Were it enough to show the place, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay;
+    Then could I show these armes of mine, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay.
+
+_Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord._
+
+    Here, where our Lord once laid His head,
+    Now the grave lies buried.                           CR.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii. 11-19.
+
+    Lex jubet ex hominum coetu procul ire leprosos:
+      At mundi a Christo cur abiere procul?
+    Non abit, at sedes tantum mutavit in illis;
+      Et lepra, quae fuerat corpore, mente sedet.
+    Sic igitur digna vice res variatur; et a se
+      Quam procul ante homines, nunc habuere Deum.
+
+_The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)_
+
+    The Lord commands the lepers
+      far off from men to stay:
+    But cleans�d by the Lord,
+      why went the Nine away?
+    The leprosy remaineth,
+      chang'd only in its seat:
+    Expell�d from the body,
+      to the soul it makes retreat.
+    Now by fit retribution
+      a change is brought about:
+    Before shut out from men,
+      from God they're now shut out.                  G.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+_In cicatrices quas Christus habet in se adhuc superstites._ Joan. xx.
+
+    Quicquid spina procax, vel stylo clavus acuto,
+      Quicquid purpurea scripserat hasta nota,
+    Vivit adhuc tecum; sed jam tua vulnera non sunt:
+      Non, sed vulneribus sunt medicina meis.
+
+_On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds._
+
+    Whatever story of their crueltie,
+    Or naile, or thorne, or speare have writ in Thee,
+              Are in another sence
+                  Still legible;
+              Sweet is the difference:
+                  Once I did spell
+              Every red letter
+                  A wound of Thine;
+              Now, what is better,
+                  Balsome for mine.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Each bloody, cruel character,
+      Thorn, nail, and spear had written,
+    When here, as man's great Arbiter,
+      On Calvary Thou wert smitten,
+    Thou wearest still above, O Lord:
+      But now no longer wounds they are;
+    According to Thy Holy Word,
+      They med'cine for my wounds declare.                G.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+_Aeger implorat umbram D. Petri._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Petre, tua lateam paulisper, Petre, sub umbra:
+      Sic mea me quaerent fata, nec invenient.
+    Umbra dabit tua posse meum me cernere solem;
+      Et mea lux umbrae sic erit umbra tuae.
+
+_The sick implore St. Peter's shadow._
+
+    Under thy shadow may I lurke awhile,
+    Death's busie search I'le easily beguile:
+    Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the sun;
+    My light's thy shadowe's shadow, or 'tis done.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O Peter, Peter, let thy shadow fall
+    Where I in wretchedness a-weary crawl:
+    Here vainly shall my fates upon me call.
+    Thy shadow me shall guide unto my sun--
+    Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?--
+    And so my light, thy shadow, shall be one.            G.
+
+
+LVIII.
+
+_Quid turbati estis? Videte manus meas et pedes, quia ego ipse sum._
+Luc. xxiv. 39.
+
+    En me et signa mei, quondam mea vulnera: certe,
+      Vos nisi credetis, vulnera sunt et adhuc.
+    O nunc ergo fidem sanent mea vulnera vestram:
+      O mea nunc sanet vulnera vestra fides.
+
+_Why are ye troubled?... Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I
+myself._
+
+    'Tis I; behold My proofs, My wounds of old;
+      Wounds which still bleed, if you will not believe.
+    O, now to heal your faith My wounds behold,
+      And healing from your faith My wounds receive.
+
+
+LIX.
+
+_In vincula Petro sponte delapsa, et apertas fores._ Act. xii. 7, 10.
+
+    Ferri non meminit ferrum: se vincula Petro
+      Dissimulant: nescit carcer habere fores.
+    Quam bene liber erit, carcer quem liberat! ipsa
+      Vincula quem solvunt, quam bene tutus erit!
+
+_The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, and the (prison)-doors
+opened._
+
+    Iron forgets 'tis iron;
+      the chains dissemble too;
+    Nor has the prison doors
+      for Peter now.
+    Free truly is that pris'ner
+      who by the prison's freed;
+    Whom chains themselves unbind
+      free is indeed.
+
+
+LX.
+
+_Deferebantur a corpore ejus sudaria, &c._ Act. xix. 12.
+
+    Imperiosa premunt morbos, et ferrea fati
+      Jura ligant, Pauli lintea tacta manu.
+    Unde haec felicis laus est et gloria lini?
+      Haec, reor, e Lachesis pensa fuere colo.
+
+_From his body there were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs, &c._
+
+    They quell disease, and sway Fate's iron bands,
+    These lordly linen cloths touched by Paul's hands.
+    Whence rose the glory of their happy fame?
+    From the Fates' distaff, sure, these kerchiefs came.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXI.
+
+_Christus vitis ad vinitorem Patrem._ Joan. xv. 1-6.
+
+    En serpit tua, purpureo tua palmite vitis
+      Serpit, et, ah, spretis it per humum foliis.
+    Tu viti succurre tuae, mi Vinitor ingens:
+      Da fulcrum; fulcrum da mihi: quale? crucem.
+
+_Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father._
+
+    Lo, Thy vine trails, trails with a purple shoot,
+    Scatt'ring its leaves before it beareth fruit.
+    Succour Thy vine, great Vinedresser, from loss:
+    Support, support me, Lord: how? With Thy cross.       G.
+
+
+LXII.
+
+_Pene persuades mihi ut fiam Christianus._ Act. xxvi. 28.
+
+    Pene? quid hoc pene est? Vicinia saeva salutis!
+      O quam tu malus es proximitate boni!
+    Ah, portu qui teste perit, bis naufragus ille est;
+      Hunc non tam pelagus, quam sua terra premit.
+    Quae nobis spes vix absunt, crudelius absunt:
+      Pene sui felix, emphasis est miseri.
+
+_Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian._
+
+    _Almost?_ What word is this we hear?
+    O doubly lost, with heaven so near!
+    To perish in the neighbourhood
+    Of vast but unavailing good!
+    He shipwreck undergoes twice o'er
+    Who perishes in sight of shore,
+    And less by ocean is o'ercome
+    Than by that hopeless glimpse of home.
+    The hopes that almost seem our own
+    Leave all the keener sting when gone;
+    And just to miss felicity
+    Is but emphatic misery.                              CL.
+
+
+LXIII.
+
+_Lux venit in mundum, sed dilexerunt homines magis tenebras quam lucem._
+Joan. iii. 19.
+
+    Luce sua venit ecce Deus, mundoque refulget;
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas.
+    At Stygiis igitur mundus damnabitur umbris:
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas?
+
+_But men loved darkness rather than light._
+
+    The world's Light shines: shine as it will,
+    The world will love its darknesse still.
+    I doubt though, when the world's in hell,
+    It will not love its darknesse halfe so well.        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Behold the day of Christ! God comes with light;
+    Yet the world loves the darkness of the night.
+    Therefore the world to Stygian darkness will
+    Be damn'd: and doth the world love darkness still?    B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Lo, God comes girt with light,
+      and all the world o'ershines:
+    The world abides in night,
+      nor watcheth for the signs.
+    To Stygian darkness hurl'd
+      on the great Day of Doom,
+    Shalt thou, night-loving world,
+      still love thy lightless gloom?                     G.
+
+
+LXIV.
+
+_Dives implorat guttam._ Luc. xvi. 24.
+
+    O mihi si digito tremat et tremat unica summo
+      Gutta! � si flammas mulceat una meas!
+    Currat opum quocunque volet levis unda mearum;
+      Una mihi haec detur gemmula, Dives ero.
+
+_Dives asking a drop._
+
+    A drop, one drop! how sweetly one faire drop
+    Would tremble on my pearle-tipt finger's top!
+    My wealth is gone: O, goe it where it will,
+    Spare this one iewell, I'le be Dives still.          CR.
+
+
+LXV.
+
+_Quomodo potest homo gigni qui est senex?_ Joan. iii. 4.
+
+    Dic, Phoenix unde in nitidos novus emicat annos,
+      Plaudit et elusos aurea penna rogos?
+    Quis colubrum dolus insinuat per secula retro,
+      Et jubet emeritum luxuriare latus?
+    Cur rostro pereunte suam praedata senectam
+      Torva ales, rapido plus legit ore diem?
+    Immo, sed ad nixus praestat Lucina secundos?
+      Natales seros unde senex habeat.
+    Ignoras, Pharisaee? sat est: jam credere disces:
+      Dimidium fidei, qui bene nescit, habet.
+
+_How can a man be born when he is old?_
+
+    See how new Phoenix into bright life springs,
+    And fans the unhurting flames with golden wings.
+    O'er snake what subtle change creeps as months flow,
+    Bidding its faded frame with beauty glow.
+    Why, on itself with worn beak having prey'd,
+    Is raven old more youthful swift array'd?
+    O'er second birth-throes bears Lucina sway,
+    Whence an old man may have late natal day?
+    Pharisee, know'st not? Well, now faith thou'lt learn:
+    Wisely to know not, half faith's crown doth earn.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXVI.
+
+_Arbor Christi jussu arescens._ Marc. xi. 13.
+
+    Ille jubet: procul ite mei, mea gloria, rami:
+      Nulla vocet nostras amplius aura comas.
+    Ite, nec � pigeat; nam vos neque fulminis ira,
+      Nec trucis ala Noti verberat: ille jubet.
+    O vox, � Zephyro vel sic quoque dulcior omni;
+      Non possum Autumno nobiliore frui.
+
+_The tree dried up by the word of Christ._
+
+    He speaks: hence, leaves; my glory hence, away;
+    Thou Zephyr 'mid my leaves no longer play;
+    Begone: nor grieve: 'tis not the lightning's wrath,
+    Nor wing of the storm-wind that smites: HE saith.
+    O voice, than Zephyr sweeter far to me;
+    More noble autumn-fruit could never be.               G.
+
+
+LXVII.
+
+_Zacharias minus credens._ Luc. i. 12.
+
+    Infantis fore te patrem, res mira videtur;
+      Infans interea factus es ipse pater.
+    Et dum promissi signum, nimis anxie, quaeris,
+      Jam nisi per signum quaerere nulla potes.
+
+_Zacharias incredulous._
+
+    To have a child thou deem'st so strange a thing,
+    That thou art made a child for wondering.
+    Whilst for a sign too eagerly thou dost call,
+    Except by sign thou can'st not ask at all.           CL.
+
+
+LXVIII.
+
+_In aquam baptismi Dominici._ Matt. iii. 13-16.
+
+    Felix �, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus;
+      Felix, dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.
+    Gutta quidem sacros quaecunque perambulat artus,
+      Dum manet hic, gemma est; dum cadit hinc, lacryma.
+
+_On the water of our Lord's baptisme._
+
+    Each blest drop on each blest limme
+    Is washt itselfe in washing Him:
+    'Tis a gemme while it stayes here;
+    While it falls hence 'tis a teare.                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Happy the water washt His sacred side;
+    In washing Christ itself is purify'd.
+    Each drop that trickled down His body, there
+    Staying a gem, thence falling was a tear.             B.
+
+
+LXIX.
+
+_Mulieri incurvatae medetur Dominus, indignante Archisynagogo._ Luc.
+xiii. 11.
+
+    In proprios replicata sinus quae repserat, et jam
+      Daemonis, infelix, nil nisi nodus erat,
+    Solvitur ad digitum Domini: sed strictior illo
+      Unicus est nodus; cor, Pharisaee, tuum.
+
+_The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, the Synagogue-ruler is
+displeased._
+
+    Creeping and doubled erewhile in her woe,
+    Lo, now she stands erect: Christ willed it so.
+    D�monic knots are loos'd beneath His hands;
+    But thy heart, Pharisee, still rigid stands.          G.
+
+
+LXX.
+
+_Neque ausus fuit quisquam ex illo die eum amplius interrogare._ Matt.
+xxii. 46.
+
+    Christe, malas fraudes, Pharisaica retia, fallis:
+      Et miseros sacro discutis ore dolos.
+    Ergo tacent tandem, atque invita silentia servant:
+      Tam bene non aliter te potuere loqui.[56]
+
+_Neither durst any man from that day forth ask Him any more questions._
+
+    Nets, frauds of Pharisees, the Lord beguiles;
+    His sacred lips disperse the wretched wiles.
+    So they were silent--enforc'd so to be:
+    Such silence, Lord, their best address to Thee.       G.
+
+
+LXXI.
+
+_S. Joannes matri suae._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    O mihi cur dextram, mater, cur, oro, sinistram
+      Poscis, ab officio mater iniqua tuo?
+    Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram:
+      Tam procul a sacro non libet esse sinu.
+
+
+_St. John and his mother._
+
+    Mother, why ask you right or left for me?
+    The benefit would be an injury.
+    Nor right nor left for me convenient are:
+    From His sweet bosome either is too far.              B.
+
+
+LXXII.
+
+_Si filius Dei es, dejice te._ Matt. iv. 6.
+
+    Ni se dejiciat Christus de vertice Templi,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+    At mox te humano de pectore dejicit: heus tu,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+
+_If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down._
+
+    Cast Thyself from the pinacle whereon
+    I set Thee, or I think Thee not God's Son.
+    No; but He'l cast thee from the hearts of men,
+    Satan. Wilt not believe He's God's Son then?          B.
+
+
+LXXIII.
+
+_Dominus flens ad Judaeos._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Discite, vos miseri, venientes discite flammas;
+      Nec facite � lacrymas sic periisse meas.
+    Nec periisse tamen poterunt: mihi credite, vestras
+      Vel reprimet flammas haec aqua, vel faciet.
+
+_The Lord weeping over the Jews._
+
+    Think on the coming flames I would prevent;
+    Let not My tears for you in vain be spent.
+    And yet they can't be spent in vain; for sure
+    This water flames will quench, or else procure.       B.
+
+
+LXXIV.
+
+_Nec velut hic Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Istum? vile caput! quantum mihi gratulor, inquis,
+      Istum quod novi tam mihi dissimilem!
+    Vilis at iste abiit sacris acceptior aris:
+      I nunc, et jactes hunc tibi dissimilem.
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    Him, 'vile wretch!' Ah, myself how much I pride
+      That I am utterly unlike to him!
+    The 'vile wretch' leaves God's altar justified:
+      Now go and boast thou art unlike to him.            G.
+
+
+LXXV.
+
+_In Saulum fulgore nimio excaecatum._ Act. ix. 3.
+
+    Quae lucis tenebrae? quae nox est ista dici?
+      Nox nova, quam nimii luminis umbra facit.
+    An Saulus fuerit caecus, vix dicere possum;
+      Hoc scio, quod captus lumine Saulus erat.[57]
+
+_On Saul blinded with too much light._
+
+    What darken'd noon is here? what mid-day night?
+    It is the shadow cast by too much light.
+    Saul may be blind or not; all I can say,
+    Ta'en within Heaven's light earth's light fades away.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVI.
+
+_Beati oculi qui vident._ Luc. x. 23.
+
+    Cum Christus nostris ibat mitissimus oris,
+      Atque novum caecos jussit habere diem,
+    Felices, oculos qui tunc habuere, vocantur?
+      Felices, et qui non habuere, voco.
+
+_Blessed are the eyes which see._
+
+    When Christ with us on Earth did sympathize,
+    And to the poor blind men restor'd their eyes,
+    Happy they who had eyes. Not they alone;
+    I call them also happy who had none.                  B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    When Christ on earth moved on His pitying way,
+    And bade the blind look up and find new day,
+    Was eyesight then such bliss to every one?
+    Yet I will deem them happy who had none.              G.
+
+
+LXXVII.
+
+_Filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    Ergone tam subita potuit vice flebilis horror
+      In natalitia candidus ire toga?
+    Quos vidi, matris gemitus hos esse dolentis
+      Credideram; gemitus parturientis erant.
+
+_Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier._
+
+    With such quick change could tear-bedew'd Dismay
+    Give birthday smiles, and walk in white array?
+    Heard I bereav�d mother's wailings wild?
+    No; the blest cries of one who bears a child!     R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+_In seculi sapientes._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Ergone delicias facit, et sibi plaudit ab alto
+      Stultitia, ut velit hac ambitione peti?
+    Difficilisne adeo facta est, et seria tandem?
+      Ergo et in hanc etiam quis sapuisse potest?
+    Tantum erat, ut possit tibi doctior esse ruina?
+      Tanti igitur cerebri res, periisse, fuit?
+    Nil opus ingenio; nihil hac opus arte furoris:
+      Simplicius poteris scilicet esse miser.
+
+_On the wise of this world._
+
+    With such complacent joys is Folly fraught,
+    That with this trouble she must needs be sought?
+    So difficult and grave is she turn'd now,
+    Can any one for her be wise enow?
+    Must Ruin to be deeper taught aspire?
+    To perish, does it so much brain require?
+    Genius and skill in madness who would see?
+    Forsooth, more simply you may wretched be!        R. WI.
+
+
+LXXIX.
+
+_In Judaeos Christum praecipitare conantes._ Luc. iv. 29.
+
+    Dicite, quae tanta est sceleris fiducia vestri,
+      Quod nequiit daemon, id voluisse scelus?
+    Quod nequiit daemon scelus, id voluisse patrare:
+      Hoc tentare ipsum daemona, credo, fuit.
+
+_The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice._
+
+    What daring leads you on, ungodly crew,
+    To that which ev'n the Devil durst not do?
+    Ye dare what he dares not? If truth be told,
+    Ye tempt the Devil's self to be more bold.            G.
+
+
+LXXX.
+
+_In draconem praecipitem._ Rev. xii. 9.
+
+    I, frustra truculente; tuas procul aurea rident
+      Astra minas, coelo jam bene tuta suo.
+    Tune igitur coelum super ire atque astra parabas?
+      Ascensu tanto non opus ad barathrum.
+
+_The casting-down of the dragon._
+
+    Go, Dragon! the fair stars smile at thy threat,
+      Secure, serene, in native skies a-glow.
+    Thy throne o'er sky and stars thou fain would'st set;
+      Thou need'st not vault so high to plunge so low.    G.
+
+
+LXXXI.
+
+_Beatae Virgini credenti._ Luc. ii. 19.
+
+    Miraris, quid enim faceres? sed et haec quoque credis:
+      Haec uteri credis dulcia monstra tui.
+    En fidei, Regina, tuae dignissima merces:
+      Fida Dei fueras filia; mater eris.
+
+_The blessed Virgin believing._
+
+    Thou wonder�d'st! how else could'st thou so guarded?
+      Yet thou believ'dst the mighty coming birth;
+    Queen! thy faith's working is full well rewarded;
+      God's daughter, thou God's mother art on earth.     G.
+
+
+LXXXII.
+
+_Licetne Caesari censum dare?_ Marc. xii. 14.
+
+    Post tot Scribarum, Christe, in te proelia, tandem
+      Ipse venit Caesar; Caesar in arma venit.
+    Pugnant terribiles non Caesaris ense, sed ense
+      Caesare: quin Caesar vinceris ipse tamen.
+    Hoc quoque tu conscribe tuis, Auguste, triumphis.
+      Sic vinci dignus quis nisi Caesar erat?
+
+_Is it lawful to give tribute to C�sar?_
+
+    After so many battles with the Scribes, O Lord,
+    C�sar himself comes; C�sar with his sword.
+    They fight not arm'd with C�sar's sword indeed;
+    But C�sar as their sword with craft they plead.
+    Conquer'd thyself, O C�sar, make it known--
+    Who save thee, worthy so to be o'erthrown.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+_In tibicines et turbam tumultuantem circa defunctam._ Matt. ix. 23.
+
+    Vani, quid strepitis? nam quamvis dormiat illa,[58]
+      Non tamen e somno est sic revocanda suo.
+    Expectat solos Christi sopor iste susurros:
+      Dormit enim; sed non omnibus illa tamen.
+
+
+_The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead._
+
+    Vain mourning this; why make ye such loud noise?
+      She sleeps indeed, but so will not awake.
+    Her sleep waits for the whisper of His voice
+      Who a great promise to her father spake.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+_Piscatores vocati._ Matt. iv. 19.
+
+    Ludite jam, pisces, secura per aequora: pisces
+      Nos quoque, sed varia sub ratione, sumus.
+    Non potuisse c�pi, vobis spes una salutis:
+      Una salus nobis est, potuisse capi.
+
+_The fishermen called._
+
+    Play, fishes, in your waters, safely play:
+    We become fishes too, another way.
+    Not to be taken, to you safety brought:
+    But we are then most safe when we are caught.         B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Careless, aneath the waves, ye fishes, play:
+    We too are fishes, in a different way;
+    Ye die, we live, being caught; and that for aye.      G.
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Sport, fishes, now, within the secure sea:
+    Lo, fishes too, in different kind, are we.
+    In shunning nets your hope of safety lay;
+    Our safety is to be the netter's prey.                A.
+
+
+LXXXV.
+
+_Date Caesari._ Marc. xii. 17.
+
+    Cuncta Deo debentur: habet tamen et sua Caesar;
+      Nec minus inde Deo est, si sua Caesar habet.
+    Non minus inde Deo est, solio si caetera dantur
+      Caesareo, Caesar cum datur ipse Deo.
+
+_Give to C�sar ... and to God...._
+
+    All we have is God's, and yet
+    C�sar challenges a debt;
+    Nor hath God a thinner share,
+    Whatever C�sar's payments are.
+    All is God's; and yet 'tis true
+    All we have is C�sar's too.
+    All is C�sar's; and what ods,
+    So long as C�sar's selfe is God's?                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    All things belong to God, yet C�sar has his all;
+    Not due the less to God that they to C�sar fall.
+    Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to C�sar's throne;
+    For C�sar's throne itself belongs to God alone.       G.
+
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+_Dominus asino vehitur._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille igitur vilem te, te dignatur asellum,
+      O non vectura non bene digne tua!
+    Heu, quibus haud pugnat Christi patientia monstris!
+      Hoc quod sic fertur, hoc quoque ferre fuit.
+
+_The Lord borne on the ass._
+
+    Does He, base ass, thus deign to honour thee,
+      Unworthy thus to bear th' incarnate God?
+    Alas, Thy patience strangely tried I see,
+      Thee carried thus who bear'st sin's awful load!     B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    A common ass does the Lord dignify?
+    O, how unworthy such a burden high!
+    With the Lord's patience, ah, what can compare?
+    So to be borne, this also was to bear.            R. WI.
+
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+_Videbunt Filium hominis venientem in nube._ Luc. xxi. 27.
+
+    Immo, veni: a�rios, � Christe, accingere currus,
+      Inque triumphali nube coruscus ades.
+    Nubem quaeris? erunt nostra, ah! suspiria nubes:
+      Aut sol in nubem se dabit ipse tuam.
+
+_They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud._
+
+    Come, yoke Thy chariots of the air, O Lord;
+    Triumphal honours let bright clouds afford.
+    Dost seek a cloud? Our sighs a cloud will be,
+    Or the sun melt into a cloud for Thee.                G.
+
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+_Nisi digitum immisero, &c._ Joan. xx. 25.
+
+    Impius ergo iterum clavos? iterum impius hastam?
+      Et totum digitus triste revolvet opus?
+    Tune igitur Christum, Thoma, quo vivere credas,
+      In Christum faceres, ah truculente! mori?
+
+CHRIST TO THOMAS.
+
+_Except I shall put my finger, &c._
+
+    Thy impious finger, would it, then, re-borrow
+    The nails, the spear, each circumstance of sorrow?
+    That on a living Christ thou mayst rely,
+    Cruel, wouldst thou thy Christ re-crucify?            G.
+
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores S. Stephani._ Act. vi. 9-12.
+
+    Quid datis, ah miseri! saxis nolentibus iras?
+      Quid nimis in tragicum praecipitatis opus?
+    In mortem Stephani se dant invita: sed illi
+      Occiso faciunt sponte sua tumulum.
+
+_To the Jews stoning St. Stephen._
+
+    Wretches, do ye put rage into cold stones?
+      Why rush so eagerly to work so vile?
+    Your stones unwilling add to Stephen's moans,
+      But gladly heap a tomb for him the while.           G.
+
+
+XC.
+
+_Sancto Joanni dilecto discipulo._
+
+    Tu fruere, augustoque sinu caput abde, quod � tum
+      Nollet in aeterna se posuisse rosa.
+    Tu fruere; et sacro dum te sic pectore portat,
+      O sat erit tergo me potuisse vehi.
+
+_To St. John the beloved disciple._
+
+    Upon His breast thy happy head reposes,
+    Nor would that pillow change for Heaven's own roses:
+    While thus His bosom bears up happy thee,
+    To press His shoulders were enough for me.            G.
+
+
+XCI.
+
+_In lactentes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16, 17.
+
+    Vulnera natorum qui vidit et ubera matrum,
+      Per pueros fluviis, ah! simul ire suis:
+    Sic pueros quisquis vidit, dubitavit an illos
+      Lilia coelorum diceret, anne rosas.
+
+_Upon the infant martyrs._
+
+    To see both blended in one flood,
+    The mothers' milk, the childrens' blood,
+    Makes me doubt if Heaven will gather
+    Roses hence, or lillies rather.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Who saw the infants' blood and milk of mother
+    Flowing, alas, in a commingl'd tide,
+    Doubtingly ask'd, and gaz'd from one to other,
+    Whether Heav'n's rose or lily they espy'd.            G.
+
+
+XCII.
+
+_Deus nobiscum._ Matt. i. 23.
+
+    Nobiscum Deus est? vestrum hoc est, hei mihi! vestrum:
+      Vobiscum Deus est, � asini atque boves.
+    Nobiscum non est; nam nos domus aurea sumit:
+      Nobiscum Deus est, et jacet in stabulo?
+    Hoc igitur nostrum ut fiat, dulcissime Jesu,
+      Nos dandi stabulis, vel tibi danda domus.
+
+_God with us._
+
+    Is God with us? Woe's me,
+    God is with you, ye beasts, I see.
+    God is with you, ye beasts;
+    God comes not to our golden feasts.
+    That God may be with us,
+    We must provide a lowly house.
+    God comes to the humble manger,
+    While to the great house a stranger.                  G.
+
+
+XCIII.
+
+_Christus circumcisus ad Patrem._
+
+    Has en primitias nostrae, Pater, accipe mortis;
+      Vitam ex quo sumpsi, vivere dedidici.
+    Ira, Pater, tua de pluvia gustaverit ista:
+      Olim ibit fluviis hoc latus omne suis.
+    Tunc sitiat licet et sitiat, bibet et bibet usque:
+      Tunc poterit toto fonte superba frui.
+    Nunc hastae interea possit praeludere culter:
+      Indolis in poenas spes erit ista meae.[59]
+
+
+XCIV.
+
+_In Epiphaniam Domini._ Matt. ii. 2.
+
+    Non solita contenta dies face lucis Eoae,
+      Ecce micat radiis caesariata novis.
+    Persa sagax, propera: discurre per ardua regum
+      Tecta, per auratas marmoreasque domus:
+    Quaere �, quae intepuit Reginae purpura partu;
+      Principe vagitu quae domus insonuit.
+    Audin' Persa sagax? Qui tanta negotia coelo
+      Fecit, Bethlemiis vagiit in stabulis.
+
+_The Epiphany of our Lord._
+
+    Scorning her wonted herald, lo, the Day
+    Now decks her forehead with a brighter ray.
+    Sage Persian, haste; ask where high roofs unfold
+    Their royal wealth of marble and of gold;
+    In what rich couch an Empress-mother lies;
+    What halls have heard a new-born Prince's cries.
+    Wouldst know, sage Persian? He for whom Heaven keeps
+    Such festival, in Bethlehem's manger weeps.          CL.
+
+
+XCV.
+
+_Ecce quaerebamus te, &c._ Luc. ii. 49.
+
+    Te quaero misera, et quaero: tu nunc quoque tractas
+      Res Patris; Pater est unica cura tibi.
+    Quippe quod ad poenas tantum et tot nomina mortis,
+      Ad luctum et lacrymas, hei mihi! mater ego.
+
+_Lo, we have sought Thee, &c._
+
+    I seek Thee mourning, and I seek again:
+      Thou still Thy Father's business dost attend;
+    And me, alas, sad mother of all pain,
+      Of grief and tears, Thou surely wilt befriend.      G.
+
+
+XCVI.
+
+_Aquae in vinum versae._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis?
+      Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?
+    Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen:
+      Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.[60]
+
+_Water turned into wine._
+
+    Whence that blush upon thy brow,
+    Fair Nymph of the waters, now?
+    Mark the glow all rosy-red
+    Of the stream astoni�d.
+    All the guests in tumult rush'd:
+    The shy Nymph saw her God, and blush'd.               G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Whence to your waters comes the glow of wine?
+      What strange new rose their maz�d streams hath flush'd?
+    Haste, guests, and own your Visitant divine;
+      For the chaste Nymph hath seen her God, and blush'd. CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Whence comes this rose, this ruddy colour strange?
+    What blushes new the wondering water change?
+    Mark, mark, gay guests, a present Deity!
+    The conscious water blush'd its God to see.           A.
+
+
+XCVII.
+
+_Absenti Centurionis filio Dominus absens medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Quam tacitis inopina salus illabitur alis!
+      Alis quas illi vox tua, Christe, dedit.
+    Quam longas vox ista manus habet! haec medicina
+      Absens et praesens haec medicina fuit.
+
+_The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant of the Centurion._
+
+    Safety unlook'd-for! silent 'light the wings
+    Wherewith Thy voice, O Christ, swift-healing brings:
+    Far-reaching hand Thy word has, and Thou healest
+    Absent and present, even as Thou willest.             G.
+
+
+XCVIII.
+
+_Quid timidi estis?_ Marc. iv. 40.
+
+    Tanquam illi insanus faceret sua fulmina ventus;
+      Tanquam illi scopulos norit habere fretum.
+    Vos vestri scopuli, vos estis ventus et unda:
+      Naufragium cum illo qui metuit, meruit.
+
+_Why are ye so fearful?_
+
+    As if to Him the winds their thunder threw;
+    As if to Him hard rocks the water knew.
+    Ye are your rocks, ye are your wind and wave:
+    Shiprack with Him who fear, deserve to have.          B.
+
+
+XCIX.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Ite mei, quid enim ulterius, quid vultis, ocelli?
+      Leniter obductis ite superciliis.
+    Immo et adhuc et adhuc, iterumque iterumque videte;
+      Accipite haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Jamque ite; et tutis � vos bene claudite vallis:
+      Servate haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Primum est, quod potui te, Christe, videre: secundum,
+      Te viso, recta jam potuisse mori.[61]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    Begone, mine eyes; what would ye see beside?
+    Go now in peace 'neath darkening brows to hide.
+    Once and again, and yet again; behold;
+    With one long gaze His beams in yours enfold.
+    Then go, and guard your treasure safe from foes,
+    And fast in yours those beams of His enclose.
+    To look on Thee, O Christ, this first have I;
+    Then, having look'd on Thee, straightway to die.     CL.
+
+
+C.
+
+_In segetem sacram._ Matt. xiii. 24.
+
+    Ecce suam implorat, demisso vertice, falcem:
+      Tu segeti falcem da, Pater alme, suam.
+    Tu falcem non das? messem tu, Christe, moraris?
+      Hoc ipsum falx est; haec mora messis erit.
+
+_Good seed in the field._
+
+    Its sickle it implores with head bow'd low;
+    Its sickle on the corn-field, Lord, bestow.
+    Refusest Thou? The harvest dost delay?
+    The sickle this--hence fuller harvest-day.            G.
+
+
+CI.
+
+_Coepit lacrymis rigare pedes ejus, et capillis extergebat._ Luc. vii.
+37.
+
+    Unda sacras sordes lambit placidissima: flavae
+      Lambit et hanc undam lucida flamma comae.
+    Illa per has sordes it purior unda; simulque
+      Ille per has lucet purior ignis aquas.
+
+_She began to wash His feet with teares, and wipe them with the haires
+of her head._
+
+    Her eyes' flood lickes His feets' faire staine;
+    Her hair's flame lickes up that againe.
+    This flame thus quencht hath brighter beames;
+    This flood thus stain�d fairer streames.             CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    With placid force the gentle wave
+    That consecrated dust doth lave,
+    And a bright flame of golden hair
+    Doth lave in light those waters fair.
+    Purer the trickling waters shine
+    Through contact with that dust divine;
+    And purer through the waters' flow
+    That flame of lucent fire doth glow.                CL.
+
+
+CII.
+
+_Quid vis tibi faciam?_ Luc. xviii. 41.
+
+    Quid volo, Christe, rogas? quippe ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Quippe ad te, dulcis Christe, videre volo.
+    At video, fideique oculis te nunc quoque figo:
+      Est mihi, quae nunquam est non oculata, fides.
+    Sed quamvis videam, tamen ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Sed quoniam video, Christe, videre volo.
+
+_What seekest that I do to thee?_
+
+    Askest, O Christ, my wish? My Christ I wish to see:
+    To see Thee, O my sweet Christ, to see Thee.
+    But, lo, I see; for now on Thee I fix faith's eye,
+    And gazing so, dimness and darkness fly.
+    But though I see, yet, ah, my Christ I wish to see;
+    And since I see, O Christ, I would see Thee.          G.
+
+
+CIII.
+
+_Christus mulieri Canaaneae difficilior._ Matt. xv. 21.
+
+    Ut pretium facias dono, donare recusas:
+      Usque rogat supplex, tutamen usque negas.
+    Hoc etiam donare fuit, donare negare.
+      Saepe dedit quisquis saepe negata dedit.
+
+_The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan._
+
+    That He a gift more precious might bestow,
+      While she implor'd, discouragements He used.
+    This was to give thus not to give; for, lo,
+      He giveth oft who gives what's oft refused.[62]     G.
+
+
+CIV.
+
+_Beatus venter et ubera, &c._ Luc. ii. 27.
+
+    Et quid si biberet Jesus vel ab ubere vestro?
+      Quid facit ad vestram, quod bibit ille, sitim?
+    Ubera mox sua et hic, � quam non lactea! pandet;
+      E nato mater tum bibet ipsa suo.
+
+_Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked._
+
+    Suppose He had been tabled at thy teates,
+    Thy hunger feeles not what He eates:
+    He'l have His teat ere long--a bloody one;
+    The mother then must suck the Son.                   CR.
+
+
+CV.
+
+_In Christum vitem._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Ulmum vitis amat, quippe est et in arbore flamma,
+      Quam fovet in viridi pectore blandus amor:
+    Illam ex arboribus cunctis tu, vitis, amasti;
+      Illam, quaecunque est, quae crucis arbor erat.
+
+_Christ the true Vine (including the branches)._
+
+    The vine clings lovingly unto the elm;
+    Love's flame draws thus a tree within its realm:
+    But most, O vine, thou lov'st, whate'er its name,
+    That tree from which the cross of Calvary came.       G.
+
+
+CVI.
+
+_Vos flebitis et lamentabimini._ Joan. xvi. 20.
+
+    Ergo mihi salvete mei, mea gaudia, luctus:
+      Quam charum, � Deus, est hoc mihi flere meum!
+    Flerem, ni flerem: solus tu, dulcis Jesu,
+      Laetitiam donas tunc quoque quando negas.
+
+_Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament._
+
+    Welcome, my griefe, my joy; how deare's
+    To me my legacy of teares!
+    I'll weepe and weepe, and will therefore
+    Weepe 'cause I can weepe no more.
+    Thou, Thou, deare Lord, even Thou alone,
+    Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none.              CR.
+
+
+CVII.
+
+_In gregem Christi Pastoris._ Joan. x. 11.
+
+    O grex, � nimium tanto Pastore beatus;
+      O ubi sunt tanto pascua digna grege?
+    Ne non digna forent tanto grege pascua, Christus
+      Ipse suo est Pastor, pascuum et ipse gregi.
+
+_Christ the good Shepherd._
+
+    O flock, O too much in thy Sheepherd blest,
+    Where are fields worthy thee to feed and rest?
+    Lest worthy pastures nowhere should be found,
+    Christ is to thee the Sheepherd and the ground.       B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    O flock, in your great Shepherd all too blest,
+      Where shall fit pasturage be found for you?
+    That His fair flock may ne'er want food or rest,
+      Christ is the Pastor and the pasture too.          CL.
+
+
+CVIII.
+
+_In vulnera pendentis Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 26-53.
+
+    Sive oculos, sive ora vocem tua vulnera; certe
+      Undique sunt ora, heu, undique sunt oculi.
+    Ecce ora, � nimium roseis florentia labris!
+      Ecce oculi, saevis ah madidi lacrymis!
+    Magdala, quae lacrymas solita es, quae basia sacro
+      Ferre pedi, sacro de pede sume vices.
+    Ora pedi sua sunt, tua quo tibi basia reddat:
+      Quo reddat lacrymas scilicet est oculus.[63]
+
+
+_On the wounds of the crucified Lord._
+
+    Thy wounds, O Lord, are mouths and eyes--
+    Let not the strange words breed surprise:
+    Where'er I look, wounds seem to speak;
+    Where'er I look, wounds in tears break;
+    Mouths with ruddy lips disparted,
+    Eyes as of the broken-hearted.
+    Thou, Mary, on His sacred feet
+    Rain�dst thy tears and kisses sweet.
+    Now retake thy kisses, tears;
+    Cling thee there, there hush thy fears.
+    See, mouths and eyes are here also;
+    Swift they'll pay back thy loving woe.                G.
+
+
+CIX.
+
+_Paralyticus convalescens._ Marc. ii. 1-13.
+
+    Christum, quod misero facilis peccata remittit,
+      Scribae blasphemum dicere non dubitant.
+    Hoc scelus ut primum Paralyticus audiit: ira
+      Impatiens, lectum sustulit atque abiit.
+
+_The paralytic healed._
+
+    The Scribes audaciously blaspheme the Lord,
+    That He a poor man pardon'd with a word.
+    The Paralytic hears all that they say;
+    Indignant takes his bed, and walks away.              G.
+
+
+CX.
+
+_Tunc sustulerunt lapides._ Joan. viii. 59.
+
+    Saxa? illi? quid tam foedi voluere furores?
+      Quid sibi de saxis hi voluere suis?
+    Indolem, et antiqui agnosco vestigia patris:
+      Panem de saxis hi voluere suis.
+
+_Then took they up stones._
+
+    'They took up stones:' What meant they by such rage?
+      What wanted they with them? Their meaning's plain:
+    'Tis their old father's way--O sad presage!
+      He too took up the stones for bread amain.[64]      G.
+
+
+CXI.
+
+_In resurrectionem Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 6.
+
+    Nasceris, en, tecumque tuus, Rex auree, mundus,
+      Tecum[65] virgineo nascitur e tumulo.
+    Tecum in natales properat natura secundos,
+      Atque novam vitam te novus orbis habet.
+    Ex vita, Sol alme, tua vitam omnia sumunt:
+      Nil certe, nisi mors, cogitur inde mori.
+    At certe neque mors: nempe ut queat illa sepulchro,
+      Christe, tuo condi, mors volet ipsa mori.
+
+_On the Resurrection of the Lord._
+
+    Thou'rt born, and, lo, bright King, Thy world is born,
+    Is born with Thee from virgin tomb this morn.
+    Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,
+    And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.
+    Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath;
+    Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.
+    Nor is Death forced--since in Thy grave to lie,
+    Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXII.
+
+_Aliqui vero dubitabant._ Matt. xxviii. 17.
+
+    Scilicet et tellus dubitat,[66] tremebunda: sed ipsum hoc,
+      Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.
+    Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud
+      Hoc ipse dicunt,[67] dicere quod nequeunt.
+
+_But some doubted._
+
+    Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,
+    The wavering earth forbids you waver too.
+    The very keepers, if their voice you seek,
+    Though speechless, even by their silence speak.   R. WI.
+
+
+CXIII.
+
+_In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam suorum fidem._
+Joan. xx. 20.
+
+    His oculis, nec adhuc clausis co�ere fenestris,
+      Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.
+    His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,
+      Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.
+
+_The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strengthening of
+His disciples' faith._
+
+    Thy love these eyes did open;
+      They're watching for us still:
+    These eyes, of love the token,
+      Our faith with love do fill.                        G.
+
+
+CXIV.
+
+_Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit._ Luc. vii. 19.
+
+    Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,
+      Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,
+    Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?
+      Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.[68]
+
+_John sends to Jesus ... saying, Art Thou He that should come? or look
+we for another?_
+
+    And dost _thou_ ask, who in thy mother's womb
+    So eager wast to hail Messiah come?
+    Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?
+    Why, even the very dumb can answer thee.             CL.
+
+
+CXV.
+
+_In Petrum auricidam._ Joan. xviii. 10.
+
+    Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,
+      Tu tibi jam pugnas, � bone, non Domino.
+    Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,
+      Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.
+
+
+_On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare._
+
+    Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
+    Well for thyselfe, I meane, not for thy Lord.
+    To strike at eares is to take heed there bee
+    No witnesse, Peter, of thy perjury.                  CR.
+
+
+CXVI.
+
+_Manus arefacta sanatur._ Marc. iii. 1-5.
+
+    Felix, ergo tuae spectas natalia dextrae,
+      Quae modo spectanti flebile funus erat!
+    Quae nec in externos modo dextera profuit usus,
+      Certe erit illa tuae jam manus et fidei.[69]
+
+_The withered hand healed._
+
+    O happy man, thy right-hand's birth beholding,
+    Erewhile a sad funereal sight enfolding!
+    The hand of no use, by the word Christ saith,
+    Restor'd, is now become the hand of faith.       G. & B.
+
+
+CXVII.
+
+_In Pontium male lautum._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Illa manus lavat unda tuas, vanissime judex:
+      Ah tamen illa scelus non lavat unda tuum!
+    Nulla scelus lavet unda tuum: vel si lavet ulla,
+      O volet ex oculis illa venire tuis.
+
+
+_To Pontius washing his hands._
+
+    Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt
+    That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:
+    The flood, if any can, that can suffice,
+    Must have its fountaine in thine eyes.               CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:
+    Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.
+    No water washt it out: if any will,
+    'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil.       B.
+
+
+CXVIII.
+
+_In piscem dotatum._ Matt. xvii. 27.
+
+    Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque
+      Fert pretium: tanti est vel periisse tibi.
+    Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos
+      Non opus est: ipsum se tibi piscis emet.
+
+_The stater-giving fish._
+
+    A fish Thou wishest, Lord;
+    And without e'er a word,
+    Behold, it swims to Thee,
+    Fetching its own cost, free.
+    Thou needest not to go
+    In markets to and fro;
+    Nor need'st Thou price to bring--
+    The fish owns Thee its king.                          G.
+
+
+CXIX.
+
+_Ego vici mundum._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tu contra mundum dux es meus, optime Jesu?
+      At tu, me miserum! dux meus ipse jaces.
+    Si tu, dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis?
+      Immo, ni jaceas tu, mihi nulla salus.
+
+_I have overcome the world._
+
+    Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!
+    Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.
+    And if my Captain fall, what hope have I?
+    No hope at all, unless my Captain die.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?
+    But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.
+    If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?
+    Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be.           A.
+
+
+CXX.
+
+_In ascensionem Dominicam._ Act. i. 10.
+
+    Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia coeli:
+      It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.
+    Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus
+      Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.
+    At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phoebe,
+      Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.
+    Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:
+      Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?
+
+_On the ascension of our Lord._
+
+    Through open'd depths of His own heaven He soars,
+    And from His face in heaven a new heaven pours.
+    Scatter'd before Him down the welkin sinks
+    The sun, and its own sun's near glory drinks.
+    Moon unto sun for light no more beholden,
+    Now from more lustrous sun returns all golden.
+    These triumphs o'er Thyself Thou grantest, Lord;
+    Triumphs no other could suffice to 'accord.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXI.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii.
+
+    Jam coeli circum tonuit fragor: arma minasque
+      Turbida cum flammis mista ferebat hiems.
+    Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis,
+      Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.
+    Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro,
+      Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas;
+    Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse,
+      Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.
+
+    {Ouranou ektyp�se bromos; polemon kai apeilas
+      �ge trech�n anemos syn phlogi smerdale�.
+    Auen Ioudaios; miara styger�n ta kar�na
+      Ephthase t�s org�s to prepon ourani�s.
+    Alla gal�nai� hote keitai h�sychon astr�
+      Phlegma, kai abl�tous leiche philon plokamous,
+    Hekthambei. hoti gar keinois ouk �en al�th�s,
+      Nyn eteon dioti t�de keraunos e�n.}
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Booms the thunder through the sky,
+      Flash the lightnings, threats the storm;
+    Cries the Jew with vengeful eye:
+      See SIN doom'd in fitting form!
+    But, lo, the lightning, paled to light
+      Mild and calm as ev'ning's star,
+    Binds their brows with nimbus bright,
+      Playing softly i' their hair.
+    To the Jews it is not lightning,
+    Yet the more the name's enlightening.[70]             G.
+
+
+CXXII.
+
+_Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet._ Joan. iii. 16.
+
+    Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae:
+      Guttula quod faceret, cur facit oceanus?
+    Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita:
+      Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.
+
+_God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son...._
+
+    Ah, 'tis too much to give Him for our sake:
+    A drop might serve, why then an ocean take?
+    Here may my life expatiate gloriously--
+    Amply, magnificently, Death may die.              R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIII.
+
+_Juga boum emi._ Luc. xiv. 19.
+
+    Ad coenam voco te, domini quod jussa volebant;
+      Tu mihi, nescio quos, dicis, inepte, boves.
+    Imo vale, nobis nec digne nec utilis hospes;
+      Coena tuos, credo, malit habere boves.
+
+_I have bought five yoke of oxen._
+
+    I call thee to His Supper,
+              for so The Master spake:
+    Thou sayest 'No,' pretending
+              thou must thy oxen take.
+    Farewell, O thou unworthy
+              and wholly useless guest;
+    Thy oxen for the Supper
+              in truth were better prest.                 G.
+
+
+CXXIV.
+
+_D. Paulum, verbo sanantem claudum, pro Mercurio Lystres adorant._ Act.
+xiv. 8-18.
+
+    Quis Tagus hic, quae Pactoli nova volvitur unda?
+      Non hominis vox est haec: Deus ille, Deus.
+    Salve, mortales nimium dignate penates:
+      Digna Deo soboles, digna tonante Deo.
+    O salve, quid enim, alme, tuos latuisse volebas?
+      Te dicit certe vel tua lingua Deum.
+    Laudem hanc haud miror: meruit facundus haberi,
+      Qui claudo promptos suasit habere pedes.
+
+_St. Paul, healing the lame man with a word, is worshipped by the
+Lystrians as Mercury._
+
+    What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?
+    'Tis not man's voice: a God, a God behold.
+    Hail, too much honour thou to men hast done,
+    Of Jove, of thundering Jove the worthy son.
+    Hail, Lord, for why wouldst hide thee from thine own?
+    A God e'en by thy tongue assuredly art known.
+    The praise of eloquence for him was meet
+    Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet.    R. WI.
+
+
+CXXV.
+
+_In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem._
+
+    Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?
+      Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?
+    Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris,
+      Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.
+    Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat,
+      Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?
+    Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare:
+      Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.[71]
+
+    {P� tachyergos agei pteryg' asteroessan eretmos?
+      � tini keina pherei t�n poda chione�n?
+    Christe, te� kephal� pasais pterygessin epeigei;
+      P� skia toi dasiois paize mala plokamois.
+    Poia soi arrh�t� psithyrismati kein' agoreuei?
+      Arr�t', ouk �ch�s isa men androme�s.
+    Mouna men h�d' ornis kalias est' axia taut�s�
+      Axia d' ornithos mouna men h� kalia.}
+
+_To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ._
+
+    On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?
+      Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?
+    O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head,
+      Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.
+    There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee,
+      A melody unlike all earthly sound:
+    That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee;
+      This nest alone worthy the Bird is found.           W.
+
+
+CXXVI.
+
+_In fores divo Petro sponte apertas._ Act. xii. 10.
+
+    Quid juvit clausisse fores, bone janitor, istas?
+      Et Petro claves jam liquet esse suas.
+    Dices, sponte patent: Petri ergo hoc scilicet ipsum
+      Est clavis, Petro clave quod haud opus est.
+
+_The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter._
+
+    Good jailor, how is this,
+      These doors thou lockest here?
+    That Peter has the keys
+      'Tis now to all men clear.
+    Thou say'st the doors self-open,
+      And well thou sayest indeed;
+    For by this very token
+      He no other key doth need.                          G.
+
+
+CXXVII.
+
+_Murmurabant Pharisaei, dicentes, Recipit peccatores, et comedit cum
+illis._ Luc. xv. 2.
+
+    Ah male, quisquis is est, pereat, qui scilicet istis
+      Convivam, saevus, non sinit esse suum!
+    Istis cum Christus conviva adjungitur, istis
+      O non conviva est Christus, at ipse cibus.[72]
+
+_The Pharisees murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth
+with them._
+
+    Ah, let him perish in his harsh protests
+    Who sinners checks to be the Saviour's guests!
+    Sinners do entertain Christ as a guest:
+    They spread the table, but He is the feast.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXVIII.
+
+_In trabem Pharisaicam._ Matt. vii. 3.
+
+    Cedant, quae, rerum si quid tenue atque minutum est,
+      Posse acie certa figere, vitra dabunt.
+    Artis opus mirae! Pharisaeo en optica trabs est,
+      Ipsum, vera loquor, qua videt ille nihil.
+
+
+_On the beam of the Pharisee._
+
+    Grant you can fix upon a needle's end
+    Each smallest object microscopes will lend.
+    Rare beam to look through has the Pharisee,
+    Whereby, in sooth, nothing itself sees he!        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIX.
+
+_Constituerunt ut si quis confiteretur eum esse Christum, synagoga
+moveretur._ Joan. ix. 22.
+
+    Infelix, Christum reus es quicunque colendi;
+      O reus infelix, quam tua culpa gravis!
+    Tu summis igitur, summis damnabere coelis:
+      O reus infelix, quam tua poena gravis!
+
+_They determined that if any man should confess Him to be Christ, he
+should be put out of the synagogue._
+
+    Alas, unhappy, own the Christ thou wilt;
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful is thy guilt.
+    The gates of heaven for aye should keep thee close:
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful are thy woes.                A.
+
+
+CXXX.
+
+_De voto filiorum Zebedaei._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    Sit tibi, Joannes, tibi sit, Jacobe, quod optas;
+      Sit tibi dextra manus; sit tibi laeva manus.
+    Spero alia in coelo est, et non incommoda, sedes;
+      Si neque laeva manus, si neque dextra manus.
+    Coeli hanc aut illam nolo mihi quaerere partem;
+      O coelum, coelum da, Pater alme, mihi.
+
+_Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee._
+
+    O brothers twain, may it be yours to fill
+    At right and left your places as ye will!
+    A seat remains, I trust--a fair one too--
+    Besides those high ones that were sought for you.
+    I pray not that to me some part be given,
+    But heaven itself, kind Father, grant me heaven.     CL.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    John and James, take your place at God's command:
+    One at the right, th' other at the left hand.
+    I ask not to be plac�d so, or so:
+    To heaven, to heaven, good Father, let me go.         B.
+
+
+CXXXI.
+
+_Ad hospites coenae miraculosae quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 9-13.
+
+    Vescere pane tuo, sed et, hospes, vescere Christo;
+      Et panis pani scilicet ille tuo.
+    Tunc pane hoc Christi recte satur, hospes, abibis,
+      Panem ipsum Christum si magis esurias.[73]
+
+_To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves._
+
+    Feed on thy bread, on Christ too feed, O guest;
+    With Bread on bread forsooth thou shalt be blest.
+    Then shalt thou go, with Christ's bread satisfied,
+    If hungering for the living Bread beside.         R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXII.
+
+_De Christi contra mundum pugna._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contra
+      Ferre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?
+    I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:
+      Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.
+
+_Christ overcoming the world._
+
+    O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonder
+    Thou dar'st lift unarm'd hands against my thunder.
+    Go, tyrant; put thy chains upon these hands:
+    'Tis done; and now full-arm'd the prisoner stands.    G.
+
+
+CXXXIII.
+
+_Graeci disputatores divo Paulo mortem machinantur._ Act. ix. 29.
+
+    Euge, argumentum! sic disputat: euge, sophista!
+      Sic pugnum Logices stringere, sic decuit.
+    Hoc argumentum in causam quid, Graecule, dicit?
+      Dicit, te in causam dicere posse nihil.[74]
+
+_The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul._
+
+    O noble argument, Sophister rare!
+    Thus Logic's fist to double be your care.
+    This argument, poor Greek, what does it weigh?
+    It says that you have nought at all to say.       R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXIV.
+
+_Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus._ Luc. xxii. 26.
+
+    O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?
+      At vero fies hac ratione minor.
+    Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,
+      Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.
+
+_He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger._
+
+    The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?
+    Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.
+    That thou mai'st not go less, to every one
+    Submit: this, this is Christ's ambition.              B.
+
+
+CXXXV.
+
+_In lacrymantem Dominum._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Vobis, Judaei, vobis haec volvitur unda;
+      Quae vobis, quoniam spernitis, ignis erit.
+    Eia faces, Romane, faces! seges illa furoris,
+      Non nisi ab his undis, ignea messis erit.
+
+_He beheld the city, and wept over it._
+
+    For you, O Jews, is roll'd this tearful tide,
+    Which as a flame shall glow, since ye deride.
+    Torches, Rome's torches--those wild-waving ears
+    A fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVI.
+
+_Christus in Aegypto._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Hunc tu, Nile, tuis majori flumine monstra;
+      Hunc, nimis ignotum, dic caput esse tibi.
+    Jam tibi, Nile, tumes; jam te quoque multus inunda:
+      Ipse tuae jam sis laetitiae fluvius.
+
+_Christ in Egypt._
+
+    With prouder stream, Nile, show Him to thine own;
+    Call Him thy fountain-head, too little known:
+    Now swelling for thyself, thyself o'erflow;
+    And with its own joy let thy current glow.        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVII.
+
+_In caecos Christum confitentes, Pharisaeos abnegantes._ Matt. ix.
+27-31.
+
+    Ne mihi tu, Pharisaee ferox, tua lumina jactes:
+      En caecus! Christum caecus at ille videt.
+    Tu, Pharisaee, nequis in Christo cernere Christum:
+      Ille videt caecus; caecus es ipse videns.[75]
+
+_The blind confessing Christ, the Pharisees denying._
+
+    Cast not thine eyes on me, proud Pharisee,
+    Lo, this blind man, though blind, yet Christ can see.
+    Thou, Pharisee, canst not in Christ Christ find;
+    The blind man sees Him, and the seer's blind.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXXVIII.
+
+_Si quis pone me veniet, tollat crucem et sequatur me._ Matt. xvi. 24.
+
+    Ergo sequor, sequor, en, quippe et mihi crux mea, Christe, est:
+      Parva quidem; sed quam non satis, ecce, rego.
+    Non rego? non parvam hanc? ideo neque parva putanda est.
+      Crux magna est, parvam non bene ferre crucem.
+
+
+_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his
+cross and follow Me._
+
+    Therefore I follow, lo, I follow on;
+      My cross is with me, yet not rightly worn.
+    It little is compar'd with Thine, I own;
+      Yet little is not being wrongly borne.              G.
+
+
+CXXXIX.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequutus est eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Quas Matthaeus opes, ad Christi jussa, reliquit;
+      Tum primum vere coepit habere suas.[76]
+    Iste malarum est usus opum bonus, unicus iste;
+      Esse malas homini, quas bene perdat, opes.
+
+_And he left all ... and followed Him._
+
+    To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did take
+    The right way, when he left all for Christ's sake.
+    This is the one good use of ill-got wealth;
+    For ill-got 'tis which, leaving, bringeth health.  B. & G.
+
+
+CXL.
+
+_Aedificatis sepulchra Prophetarum._ Matt. xxiii. 29.
+
+    Sanctorum in tumulis quid vult labor ille colendis?
+      Sanctorum mortem non sinit ille mori.
+    Vane, Prophetarum quot ponis saxa sepulchris,
+      Tot testes lapidum, queis periere, facis.
+
+
+_Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets._
+
+    Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeath
+    The life thou took'st from him unto his death.
+    Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lye
+    Keepe but the score[77] of them that made him dye.   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What means this labour on the tombs of saints,
+      Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?
+    Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaints
+      Doth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd.  G.
+
+
+CXLI.
+
+_In manum aridam qua Christo mota est miseratio._ Marc. iii. 3-5.
+
+    Prende, miser, Christum; et cum Christo prende salutem:
+      At manca est, dices, dextera: prende tamen.
+    Ipsum hoc, in Christum, manus est: hoc prendere Christum est,
+      Qua Christum prendas, non habuisse manum.
+
+_The man with the withered hand, who excited Christ's compassion._
+
+    Take hold of Christ, O wretched one,
+    And with Christ take salvation.
+    But thy right hand, thou say'st, is dead;
+    Yet take thee hold: His word is said.
+    Take hold of Christ e'en without hand;
+    Then safe in Christ, and well, thou'lt stand:
+    Take hold of Christ in simple faith;
+    This will be hand to thee, He saith.                  G.
+
+
+CXLII.
+
+_Ad D. Lucam medicum._ Coloss. iv. 14.
+
+    Nulla mihi, Luca, de te medicamina posco,
+      Ipse licet medicus sis, licet aeger ego:
+    Quippe ego in exemplum fidei dum te mihi pono,
+      Tu, medice, ipse mihi es tu medicina mea.
+
+    {Ouden eg�, Louka, para sou moi pharmakon ait�,
+      Kan sy d' iatros e�s, kan men eg� noseros.
+    All' en hos� paradeigma peleis moi pistios, autos,
+      Autos iatros emoi g' essi akestori�.}
+
+_Luke the beloved physician._
+
+    No medicine of thee, O Luke, I seek,
+    Though thou art a physician, and I sick:
+    Th' example of thy faith before my eyen,
+    To me, physician, is the medicine.                    B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+_To St. Luke as a physician._
+
+    No medicine will I crave, Saint Luke, of thee,
+    Though I be sick, though thou physician be:
+    Pattern of faith, I plant thee in my soul,
+    And thou thyself the medicine makest me whole.        A.
+
+
+CXLIII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatus, Christum jam sitiens._ Luc. xiv. 4.
+
+    Pellitur inde sitis, sed et hinc sitis altera surgit;
+      Hinc sitit ille magis, quo sitit inde minus.
+    Felix �, et mortem poterit qui temnere morbus;
+      Cui vitae ex ipso fonte sititur aqua.
+
+_The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ._
+
+    Thy dropsy's quench'd, but other thirst now rises,
+      Which craves the more, the less the former thirsts.
+    O happy malady, which death despises:
+      Thirst for the stream which from life's fountain bursts. G.
+
+
+CXLIV.
+
+_In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum._
+
+    Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus
+      Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:
+    Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,
+      Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.
+    O ver, � longae semper seges aurea lucis;
+      Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;
+    O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;
+      O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;
+    Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;
+      Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos--quid ago?
+
+_To the assembly of all the Saints._
+
+    Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,
+    Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:
+    Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,
+    Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.
+    O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;
+    Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;
+    The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,
+    The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;
+    The regions of unfading peace ye see,
+    And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me![78]  W.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt
+    Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.
+    Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,
+    And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.
+    O ever-ripening harvest of long light;
+    O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;
+    O hands with laughing palms, O crown�d brows;
+    O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!
+    The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see--
+    The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea--woe is me!           A.
+
+
+CXLV.
+
+_Christus absenti medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Vox jam missa suas potuit jam tangere metas?
+      O superi, non hoc ire sed isse fuit.
+    Mirac'lum fuit ipsa salus, bene credere possis,
+      Ipsum, mirac'lum est, quando salutis iter.
+
+
+_Christ heals in absence._
+
+    Came, then, His voice with power, Himself unseen?
+    Heavens! this, though not to go, was to have been.
+    The cure miraculous we can credit well,
+    When the mere going was a miracle.                   CL.
+
+
+CXLVI.
+
+_Caecus natus._ Joan. ix. 1, 2.
+
+    Felix, qui potuit tantae post nubila noctis,
+      O dignum tanta nocte, videre diem:
+    Felix ille oculus, felix utrinque putandus,
+      Quod videt, et primum quod videt ille Deum.
+
+_The man born blind._
+
+    Happy the man who was endu'd with sight,
+    And saw a day well worth so long a night:
+    Happy the eye, twice happy is the eye,
+    That sees, and at first look, a Deity.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy eye, that after such dark night--
+    Day worthy night so dark--couldst see the light:
+    O happy eye, eye thrice and four times blest,
+    At once to ope, and upon God to rest.                 A.
+
+
+CXLVII.
+
+_Et ridebant illum._ Matt. ix. 24.
+
+    Luctibus in tantis, Christum ridere vacabat?
+      Vanior iste fuit risus, an iste dolor?
+    Luctibus in tantis hic vester risus inepti,
+      Credite mi, meruit maximus esse dolor.
+
+_And they laughed at Him._
+
+    Laughter at Christ the Saviour--
+            Laughter 'mid falling tears!
+    O, which show'd greater folly,
+            Vain laughter or vain fears?
+    Such laughter 'mid such sorrow,
+            O fools, ye may believe:
+    Such laughter in such Presence
+            Gave greatest cause to grieve.                G.
+
+
+CXLVIII.
+
+_In sapientiam seculi._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Noli altum sapere, hoc veteres voluere magistri,
+      Ne retrahat lassos alta ruina gradus.
+    Immo mihi dico, Noli sapuisse profundum:
+      Non ego ad infernum me sapuisse velim.
+
+_The wisdom of the world._
+
+    'Aim not at things too high,' 'twas said of old,
+    'Lest ruin thence o'ertake thee, over-bold.'
+    For me to dive too deep I think not well:
+    I would not have my knowledge deep as hell.          CL.
+
+
+CXLIX.
+
+_In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus._
+
+    Illa domus stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est:
+      Illa domus, qua tu nasceris, est stabulum?
+    Illa domus toto domus est pulcherrima mundo;
+      Vix coelo dici vult minor illa tuo.[79]
+    Cernis ut illa suo passim domus ardeat auro?
+      Cernis ut effusis rideat illa rosis?
+    Sive aurum non est, nec quae rosa rideat illic;
+      Ex oculis facile est esse probare tuis.
+
+    {Oikos hod' est' aul�? ou m�. teos oikos, I�sou,
+      En th' � ty tikt� aulion ou peletai.
+    Oik�n men pant�n mala d� kallistos ekeinos;
+      Ouranou oude teou mikroteros peletai.
+    �nide keino ne� d�m' empyrizeto chrys�,
+      �nide keino neois d�ma rhodoisi gela.
+    �n rhodon ouchi gela, �n oude te chrysos ekeithen;
+      Ek sou d' ophthalm�n estin elenchemenai.}
+
+_On the stable where our Lord was born._
+
+    That house a stable? nay, bright Infant, nay:
+    Where Thou art born--a stable do we say?
+    Of mansions in this world fairest of all,
+    That house but little less than heaven we call.
+    Seest thou that house with golden splendour flush?
+    Seest thou that house with scatter'd roses blush?
+    There is no gold, no rose there laughing lies:
+    It is the light that falls from His fair eyes.        A.
+
+
+CL.
+
+_S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus._ Act. vii. 57-60.
+
+    Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustum
+      Haec mihi sint mortis conscia saxa meae.
+    Sic nec opus fuerit, notet ut quis carmine bustum,
+      Pro Domino, dicens, occidit ille suo.
+    Hic mihi sit tumulus, quem mors dedit ipsa; meique
+      Ipse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.
+
+_St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument._
+
+    I pray you, raise, my friends, no tomb for me,
+    But let these conscious stones my record be;
+    Nor will there then be need of verse to tell
+    That here for his dear Lord a martyr fell.
+    That which brought death, a tomb shall also bring,
+    And be the witness of my witnessing.                CL.
+
+
+CLI.
+
+_In D. Joannem, quem Domitianus ferventi oleo illaesum indidit._
+
+    Illum qui, toto currens vaga flammula mundo,
+      Non quidem Joannes, ipse sed audit amor--
+    Illum ignem extingui, bone Domitiane, laboras?
+      Hoc non est oleum, Domitiane, dare.[80]
+
+_On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron of boiling oil, he
+unhurt._
+
+    That fire--which o'er the world a wandering flame,
+    Bears not the name of John, but Love's own name--
+    To quench, my good Domitian, dost thou toil?
+    Fire scarce is quench'd, methinks, by adding oil.    CL.
+
+
+CLII.
+
+_In tenellos martyres._
+
+    Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitae
+      Hoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.
+    At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortis
+      Hoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.
+
+_The infant-martyrs._
+
+    Fallen, alas, in life's most tender dawn,
+      With only so much life as die they may.
+    But they 'gainst whom Death's arrows thus are drawn,
+      Only taste death that they may live for aye.        G.
+
+
+CLIII.
+
+_Attulerunt ei omnes male affectos daemoniacos, lunaticos: et sanavit
+eos._ Matt. iv. 24.
+
+    Collige te tibi, torve Draco, furiasque facesque,
+      Quasque vocant pestes nox Erebusque suas:
+    Fac colubros jam tota suos tua vibret Erinnys;
+      Collige, collige te fortiter, ut pereas.
+
+_They brought unto Him all sick people that were taken with divers
+diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and
+those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and He healed
+them._
+
+    Gather thy powers, grim Dragon, furies, flames,
+    All plagues which Erebus or midnight claims,
+    Bid each Erinnys high her serpents flourish;
+    Bring all, bring all, that thou mayst wholly perish.[81]  R. WI.
+
+
+CLIV.
+
+_Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius._ Luc. ii. 35.
+
+    Quando habeat gladium tua, Christe, tragoedia nullum,
+      Quis fuerit gladius, Virgo beata, tuus?
+    Namque nec ulla alias tibi sunt data vulnera, Virgo,
+      Quam quae a vulneribus sunt data, Christe, tuis.
+    Forsan quando senex jam caligantior esset,
+      Quod Simeon gladium credidit, hasta fuit.
+    Immo neque hasta fuit, neque clavus, sed neque spina:
+      Hei mihi, spina tamen, clavus et hasta fuit.
+    Nam queiscunque malis tua, Christe, tragoedia crevit,
+      Omnia sunt gladius, Virgo beata, tuus.
+
+_A sword shall pierce through thy own soul._
+
+    Since in the tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not any wounds are given,
+    Save as her Son is riven:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Perchance the dim-ey'd seer
+    By sword intended spear:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not spear or nail or thorn,
+    Yet by all these I'm torn:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    O whence, then, comes the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    In the dread tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,
+    Smote Thee, pierc'd as a sword
+                  Mary, the virgin-mother.                G.
+
+
+CLV.
+
+_In sanguinem circumcisionis dominicae. Ad convivas, quos haec dies apud
+nos solennes habet._
+
+    Heus, conviva! bibin'? Maria haec, Mariaeque puellus,
+      Mittunt de prelo musta bibenda suo.
+    Una quidem est, toti quae par tamen unica mundo,
+      Unica gutta, suo quae tremit orbiculo.
+    O bibite hinc; quale aut quantum vos cunque bibistis,
+      Credite mi, nil tam suave bibistis adhuc.
+    O bibite et bibite, et restat tamen usque bibendum:
+      Restat, quod poterit nulla domare sitis.
+    Scilicet hic, mensura sitis, mensura bibendi est:
+      Haec quantum cupias vina bibisse, bibis.
+
+_On the blood of the Lord's circumcision._
+
+    Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divine
+    Send from their press, for drinking, this new wine.
+    One drop, yet this round world in worth resembling,
+    A single drop in tiny circlet trembling.
+    Drink hence; whate'er ye've drunk, how much soever,
+    Trust me, such pleasant drink ye've met with never.
+    Drink, drink again; to drink is left for you--
+    Is left what mortal thirst can ne'er subdue.
+    Thirst's limit here will drinking's bound define:
+    You drink all that you would drink of this wine.  R. WI.
+
+
+CLVI.
+
+_Puer Jesus inter doctores._ Luc. ii. 46.
+
+    Fallitur, ad mentum qui pendit quemque profundum,
+      Ceu possint laeves nil sapuisse genae.
+    Scilicet e barba male mensuratur Apollo;
+      Et bene cum capitis stat nive, mentis hyems.
+    Discat, et a tenero disci quoque posse magistro,
+      Canitiem capitis nec putet esse caput.
+
+_The Child Jesus among the doctors._
+
+    To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain,
+    As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain.
+    Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit;
+    With mental winter snowy head may fit.
+    Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall,
+    Nor think a hoary head the head of all.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLVII.
+
+_Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis:
+      In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas.
+    Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens,
+      Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas.
+
+_To our Lord, upon the water made wine._
+
+    Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life;
+      Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne,
+    Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife,
+      And so turnes wine to water backe againe.          CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Blessing's in Thy every sign,
+      But the Tempter each pollutes:
+    Thou the water makest wine,
+      He the wine to woe transmutes.                      G.
+
+
+CLVIII.
+
+_Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo._ Luc. ii. 22-33.
+
+    Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco;
+      Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat.
+    Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum,
+      Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat.
+    Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae
+      Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu.
+    Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore,
+      Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis.
+    Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso
+      Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.
+
+_The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple._
+
+    Let the lamb go, by horn�d sire to play;
+    The turtle, with its mate, flee far away:
+    No need is here of lamb to mediate,
+    Or tender bird to bear another's fate.
+    At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd,
+    Receiv'd by One who much allowance made.
+    This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake,
+    'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.'
+    A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear
+    Being fit for God, since God Himself is here.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLIX.
+
+_Leprosus Dominum implorans._ Matt. viii. 2.
+
+    Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo,
+      Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles.
+    Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus;
+      Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.[82]
+
+_The leper beseeching._
+
+    I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing,
+      And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able.
+    Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling,
+      Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable.     G.
+
+
+CLX.
+
+_Christus in tempestate._ Matt. viii. 23-27.
+
+    Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu,
+      Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est.
+    Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore,
+      Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos.
+
+_Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?_
+
+              As if the storme meant Him,
+              Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,
+                  His needs a cloud.
+              Was ever froward wind
+              That could be so unkind,
+                  Or wave so proud?
+    The wind had need be angry, and the water black,
+    That to the mighty Neptune's Self dare threaten wrack.
+              There is no storm but this
+              Of your own cowardise
+                  That braves you out;
+              You are the storme that mocks
+              Yourselves; you are the rocks
+                  Of your owne doubt:
+    Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,
+    And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    That the Sea with such violence falls on,
+    'Tis not his malice, but ambition:
+    This the ambition, this the loud request,
+    At Thy command, O Christ, to take his rest.           B.
+
+
+CLXI.
+
+_Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus Romani._
+Act. xvi. 21.
+
+    Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solis
+      Romanis igitur non licet esse piis?
+    Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armis
+      Altus anhelanti detonuisset equo;
+    Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbem
+      Sueta tibi in signis torva venire tuis:
+    Quam miser ut staret de te tibi, Roma, triumphus,
+      Ut tanta fieres ambitione nihil.
+    Non tibi, sed sceleri vincis: proh laurea tristis,
+      Laurea, Cerbereis aptior umbra comis.
+    Tam turpi vix ipse pater diademate Pluto,
+      Vix sedet ipse suo tam niger in solio.
+    De tot Caesareis redit hoc tibi, Roma, triumphis:
+      Caesaree, aut, quod idem est, egregie misera es.
+
+_They teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to
+observe, being Romans._
+
+    Rome, have thy C�sar's arms wrought this for thee,
+    That Romans only may not Christians be?
+    Better for thee no C�sar had waged war,
+    High-thundering on his fiery steed afar;
+    Nor eagle's lordly form o'er all the world
+    Had aye on thy stern ensigns been unfurl'd.
+    How poor a triumph, Rome, o'er thyself wrought,
+    By dint of such ambition to be--nought!
+    Conquering for sin, not Rome; sad laurel-wreath,
+    More fit to shadow Cerberus' locks beneath.
+    Old Pluto scarce wears diadem so base,
+    Sits scarce so swart enthron'd in his own place.
+    C�sarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee--
+    C�sarean, that is, highest misery.                R. WI.
+
+
+CLXII.
+
+_Hic lapis fiat panis._ Matt. iv. 3.
+
+    Et fuit ille lapis, quidni sit dicere? panis,
+      Christe, fuit: panis sed tuus ille fuit.
+    Quippe Patris cum sic tulerit suprema voluntas,
+      Est panis, panem non habuisse, tuus.
+
+    {Artos e�n toi d�t', eipein themis estin, ekeinos,
+      Christe, toi artos e�n kai lithos, alla teos.
+    �n hou t�s tou patros e� megalou to thel�ma,
+      Artos hot' ouk �n toi, Christe, toi artos e�n.}
+
+_Command that this stone become a loaf._
+
+    And so it was; bread was that stone;
+    Such bread, Christ, as was all Thine own.
+    Since God so will'd that it should be,
+    To have no bread was bread to Thee.                   G.
+
+
+CLXIII.
+
+_Mulier Canaanitis._ Matt. xv. 22.
+
+    Quicquid Amazoniis dedit olim fama puellis,
+      Credite: Amazoniam cernimus, ecce, fidem.
+    Foemina, tam fortis fidei? jam credo fidem esse
+      Plus quam grammatice foeminei generis.
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Whate'er Fame tells of Amazons of old,
+    Believe: here Amazonian faith behold.
+    Of such strong faith a woman? Faith I see
+    More than in grammar feminine to be.              R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIV.
+
+_Deus, post expulsum daemonem mutum, maledicis Judaeis os obturat._ Luc.
+xi. 14.
+
+    Una pene opera duplicem tibi daemona frangis:
+      Iste quidem daemon mutus; at ille loquax.
+    Scilicet in laudes, quae non tibi laurea surgit?
+      Non magis hic loquitur, quam tacet ille tuas.
+
+_Upon the dumbe devill cast out, and the slanderous Jewes put to
+silence._
+
+    Two devills at one blow Thou hast laid flat;
+    A speaking devill this, a dumbe one that.
+    Was't Thy full victorie's fairer increase,
+    That th' one spake, or that th' other held his peace? CR.
+
+
+CLXV.
+
+_Dicebant, Vere hic est Propheta._ Joan. vi. 14.
+
+    Post tot quae videant, tot quae miracula tangant,
+      Haec et quae gustent, Christe, dabas populo:
+    Jam Vates, Rex, et quicquid pia nomina possunt,
+      Christus erat: vellem dicere, venter erat.
+    Namque his, quicquid erat Christus, de ventre repleto
+      Omne illud vero nomine venter erat.
+
+_They said, This is of a truth that Prophet._
+
+    When Christ had given the multitude so much,
+    So many miracles to see, taste, touch;
+    Now Prophet, King, the holiest name Heaven wishes,
+    Was Christ: I'd rather call it 'Loaves and fishes.'
+    Whate'er Christ was, to their stay'd appetite
+    'Twas all more truly 'Loaves and fishes' dight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVI.
+
+_Christus ambulabat in porticu Salomonis, et hyems erat._ Joan. x. 22.
+
+    Bruma fuit? non, non; ah, non fuit ore sub isto:
+      Si fuit, haud anni, nec sua bruma fuit.
+    Bruma tibi vernis velit ire decentior horis,
+      Per sibi non natas expatiata rosas.
+    At tibi ne possit se tam bene bruma negare,
+      Sola haec, quam vibrat gens tua, grando[83] vetat.
+
+_It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch._
+
+    Was't winter? No, O no; beneath that Face:
+    At least no natural winter there found place.
+    Winter for Thee would breathe Spring's beauteous hours,
+    With roses crowd its unaccustom'd bowers.
+    But lest so sweetly Winter should retire,
+    Lo, this hail hinders, hurl'd by Jewish ire.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVII.
+
+_Dederunt nummos militibus._ Matt. xxviii. 12.
+
+    Ne miles velit ista loqui, tu munera donas?
+      Donas, quod possit, cum tacet ipse, loqui.
+    Quae facis a quoquam, pretio suadente, taceri;
+      Clarius, et dici turpius ista facis.
+
+_They gave large money to the soldiers._
+
+    The soldiers' silence is't with money bought?
+    Thy gift will tell a tale, though they say nought.
+    Whatever with a bribe thou fain wouldst hide,
+    More shamefully thou spreadest far and wide.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVIII.
+
+_Beatae Virgini: de salutatione angelica._ Luc. i. 26-28.
+
+    {Chaire} suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;
+      {Chaire} tuum penna candidiore venit.
+    Sed taceat, qui {chaire} tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;
+      {Chaire} meum penna candidiore venit.
+    Quis dicat mihi {chaire} meum mage candidus autor,
+      Quam tibi quae dicat candidus ille tuum?
+    Virgo, rogas, quid candidius quam candidus ille
+      Esse potest? Virgo, quae rogat, esse potest.
+    {Chaire} tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;
+      Donas candidior tu mihi {chaire} meum.
+    {Chaire} meum de {chaire} tuo quid differat, audi:
+      Ille tuum dicit, tu paris, ecce, meum.
+
+_To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation._
+
+    Its 'hail' C�sarean eagle need not bring;
+    Thy 'hail' comes wafted on a whiter wing.
+    But let the 'all-hail' angel e'en be still;
+    My 'hail' comes flitting on a whiter quill.
+    To say my 'hail' what whiter being can be
+    Than that white being who utters thine to thee?
+    Virgin, dost ask what whiter than that white
+    Might be? The Virgin who is asking, might.
+    That white one, Virgin, may give 'hail' to thee;
+    But thou, more white, dost give my 'hail' to me.
+    My 'hail' o'er thy 'hail,' wouldst thou know its worth;
+    He utters thine, but mine thou bringest forth.    R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIX.
+
+_Pontio lavanti._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,
+      Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?
+    Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis
+      Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.
+    Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,
+      Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.
+    Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:
+      Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.
+
+_To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands._
+
+    Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape
+                      That thou need'st heape
+    A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch
+      Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,
+    She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;
+      Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
+    The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine
+    As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.
+
+    See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares
+                      Nothing but teares:
+    Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.
+      Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;
+    Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,
+      And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.
+    Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree
+    What water shal wash this when this hath wash�d thee. CR.
+
+
+CLXX.
+
+_In die passionis dominicae._
+
+    Tamne ego sim tetricus? valeant jejunia: vinum
+      Est mihi dulce meo, nec pudet esse, cado.
+    Est mihi quod castis, neque prelum passa, racemis
+      Palmite virgineo protulit uva parens.
+    Hoc mihi, ter denis sat enim maturuit annis,
+      Tandem, ecce, e dolio praebibit hasta suo.
+    Jamque it; et � quanto calet actus aromate torrens,
+      Acer ut hinc aura divite currit odor!
+    Quae rosa per cyathos volitat tam vina Falernos?
+      Massica quae tanto sidere vina tremunt?
+    O ego nescibam; atque ecce est vinum illud amoris,
+      Unde ego sim tantis, unde ego par cyathis.
+    Vincor: et � istis totus prope misceor auris:
+      Non ego sum tantis, non ego par cyathis.
+    Sed quid ego invicti metuo bona robora vini?
+      Ecce est, quae validum diluit[84] unda merum.
+
+_On the day of the Lord's Passion._
+
+    Should I be dull? Fastings farewell! Sweet wine
+    I have--nor am asham'd--in cask of mine,
+    Which the full grape, unprest, from virgin shoot
+    Produced for me in purest cluster'd fruit.
+    This wine, now mellow'd by the thirtieth year,
+    Lo, from the 'wood' will pour at touch of spear.
+    It pours, and O how sweet the torrent glows,
+    How sharp an odour on the rich air flows!
+    What bouquet thus breathes from Falernian jars?
+    What Massic wines tremble beneath such stars?
+    O, I knew not; and, lo, this is Love's wine,
+    Whence I such draughts, e'en I, need not decline.
+    Vanquish'd, I wholly faint these airs along;
+    I am no match, not I, for draughts so strong.
+    But wherefore fear I their blest strength divine?
+    Behold the water mingled with the wine!           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXI.
+
+_In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena ferens
+aromata._
+
+    Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phoenicis adora;
+      Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.
+    Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;
+      Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.
+    Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:
+      Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.
+    Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:
+      Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.
+    His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,
+      Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.
+    Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,
+      Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.
+    Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari
+      Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.
+
+_On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing spices
+cometh to the sepulchre._ Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.
+
+    Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phoenix' tomb;
+    Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.
+    With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen--
+    Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;
+    But these--no herbs nor spices equal them--
+    These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.
+    One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,
+    Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.
+    With these--her Lord's head in amomum laid--
+    The humble feet the head's despair she made.
+    Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,
+    She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.
+    Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too
+    Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew.           A.
+
+
+CLXXII.
+
+_In cicatrices Domini adhuc superstites._ Luc. xxiv. 31.
+
+    Arma vides; arcus, pharetramque levesque sagittas,
+      Et quocunque fuit nomine miles Amor.
+    His fuit usus Amor: sed et haec fuit ipse; suumque
+      Et jaculum, et jaculis ipse pharetra suis.
+    Nunc splendent tantum, et deterso pulvere belli
+      E memori pendent nomina magna tholo.
+    Tempus erit tamen, haec irae quando arma pharetramque,
+      Et sobolem pharetrae spicula tradet Amor.
+    Heu, qua tunc anima, quo stabit conscia vultu,
+      Quum scelus agnoscet dextera quaeque suum?
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles,
+      Qua tibi cunque tuus luserit arte furor.
+    Seu digito suadente tuo mala laurus inibat
+      Temporibus; sacrum seu bibit hasta latus:
+    Sive tuo clavi saevum rubuere sub ictu;
+      Seu puduit jussis ire flagella tuis.
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles:
+      Quod dederis vulnus, cernere, vulnus erit.
+    Plaga sui vindex clavosque rependet et hastam:
+      Quoque rependet, erit clavus et hasta sibi.
+    Quis tam terribiles, tam justas moverit iras?
+      Vulnera pugnabunt, Christe, vel ipsa tibi.
+
+_On the scars of the Lord still remaining._
+
+    Arms see--bows, quiver, arrows flying far,
+    And every style in which Love went to war.
+    These arms Love used--nay, Himself was: His own
+    Dart and darts' quiver was Himself alone.
+    Now they but shine, and, dusty battle ended,
+    In treasur'd glory are on high suspended.
+    Time comes when unto Wrath these arms, both quiver
+    And quiver's offspring, darts, Love will deliver.
+    Ah, with what thoughts, what countenance wilt thou stand
+    When its own guilt comes home to each right hand?
+    Wretch, thou wilt see the wounds which thou hast made,
+    And with what fatal skill thy fury play'd:
+    Whether with bloody wreath thy fingers plied
+    His temples, or thy spear drank His dear side;
+    Or 'neath thy blow nails turned a cruel red,
+    Or the scourge blush'd as at thy call it sped.
+    Wretch, there the wounds thou gavest thou shalt see:
+    To see the wound thou gav'st a wound shall be.
+    Stroke self-avenging follows nails and spear:
+    Its nail and spear of recompense are here.
+    Such awful righteous wrath who would excite?
+    Thy very wounds, O Christ, for Thee will fight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIII.
+
+_Pacem meam do vobis._ Joan. xiv. 27.
+
+    Bella vocant: arma, � socii, nostra arma paremus
+      Atque enses: nostros scilicet, ah, jugulos.
+    Cur ego bella paro, cum Christus det mihi pacem?
+      Quod Christus pacem dat mihi, bella paro.
+    Ille dedit, nam quis potuit dare certior autor?
+      Ille dedit pacem: sed dedit ille suam.
+
+_My peace I give unto you._
+
+    War calls: O friends, our arms let us prepare,
+    And swords; forsooth, our throats let us lay bare.
+    Why war prepare, if Christ His peace afford?
+    Because Christ gives me peace, I take the sword.
+    He gave--what surer giver can be shown?
+    He gave the peace, but then He gave His own.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIV.
+
+_In D. Paulum illuminatum simul et excaecatum._ Act. ix. 8, 9.
+
+    Quae, Christe, ambigua haec bifidi tibi gloria teli est,
+      Quod simul huic oculos abstulit atque dedit?
+    Sancta dies animi, hac oculorum in nocte, latebat;
+      Te ut possit Paulus cernere, caecus erat.
+
+_Paul's conversion and blindness._
+
+    Why, Lord, this twofold glory of Thy ray,
+    Giving him sight whose sight it takes away?
+    Paul in that night God's inner light shall find:
+    That he may see The Christ his eyes are blind.       CL.
+
+
+CLXXV.
+
+_Ego sum Via. Ad Judaeos spretores Christi._ Joan. xiv. 6.
+
+    O sed nec calcanda tamen: pes improbe, pergis?
+      Improbe pes, ergo hoc coeli erat ire viam?
+    Ah pereat, Judaec ferox, pes improbus ille,
+      Qui coeli tritam sic facit esse viam.
+
+_I am the Way. To the Jewish despisers of Christ._
+
+    Not to be trampled on, though: vile foot, stay;
+    Vile foot, is this to tread the heavenly Way?
+    Let that fierce Jewish foot to death be given,
+    Which thus wears out the bless�d Way to heaven.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVI.
+
+_In nocturnum et hyemale iter infantis Domini._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Ergo viatores teneros, cum Prole parentem,
+      Nox habet hos, queis est digna nec ulla dies.
+    Nam quid ad haec Pueri vel labra genasve parentis?
+      Heu, quid ad haec facient oscula, nox et hyems!
+    Lilia ad haec facerent, faceret rosa; quicquid et halat
+      Aeterna Zephyrus qui tepet in viola.
+    Hi meruere, quibus vel nox sit nulla; vel ulla
+      Si sit, eat nostra purius illa die.
+    Ecce sed hos quoque nox et hyems clausere tenellos:
+      Et quis scit, quid nox, quid meditetur hyems?
+    Ah, ne quid meditetur hyems saevire per Austros,
+      Quaeque solet nigros nox mala ferre metus!
+    Ah, ne noctis eat currus non mollibus Euris,
+      Aspera ne tetricos nuntiet aura Notos!
+    Heu, quot habent tenebrae, quot vera pericula secum,
+      Quot noctem dominam quantaque monstra colunt!
+    Quot vaga quae falsis veniunt ludibria formis!
+      Trux oculus, Stygio concolor ala Deo!
+    Seu veris ea, sive vagis stant monstra figuris;
+      Virginei satis est hinc, satis inde metus.
+    Ergo veni; totoque veni resonantior arcu,
+      Cynthia, praegnantem clange procul pharetram.
+    Monstra vel ista vel illa, tuis sint meta sagittis:
+      Nec fratris jaculum certior aura vehat.
+    Ergo veni, totoque veni, flagrantior ore,
+      Dignaque Apollineas sustinuisse vices.
+    Scis bene quid deceat Phoebi lucere sororem:
+      Ex his, si nescis, Cynthia, disce genis.
+    O tua, in his, quanto lampas formosior iret!
+      Nox suam, ab his, quanto malit habere diem!
+    Quantum ageret tacitos haec luna modestior ignes,
+      Atque verecundis sobria staret equis!
+    Luna, tuae non est rosa tam pudibunda diei,
+      Nec tam Virgineo fax tua flore tremit.
+    Ergo veni; sed et astra, tuas age, Cynthia, turmas:
+      Illa oculos pueri, quos imitentur, habent.
+    Hinc oculo, hinc astro: at parili face nictat utrumque;
+      Aetheris os, atque os aethereum Pueri.
+    Aspice, quam bene res utriusque deceret utrumque!
+      Quam bene in alternas mutua regna manus!
+    Ille oculus coeli hoc si staret in aethere frontis;
+      Sive astrum hoc Pueri fronte sub aetherea.
+    Si Pueri hoc astrum aetherea sub fronte micaret,
+      Credat et hunc oculum non minus esse suum.
+    Ille oculus coeli, hoc si staret in aethere frontis,
+      Non minus in coelis se putet esse suis.
+    Tam pulchras variare vices cum fronte Puelli,
+      Cumque Puelli oculis aether et astra queant.
+    Astra quidem vellent; vellent aeterna pacisci
+      Foedera mutatae sedis inire vicem.
+    Aether et ipse, licet numero tam dispare, vellet
+      Mutatis oculis tam bona pacta dari.
+    Quippe iret coelum quanto melioribus astris,
+      Astra sua hos oculos si modo habere queat!
+    Quippe astra in coelo quantum meliore micarent,
+      Si frontem hanc possint coelum habuisse suum.
+    Aether et astra velint: frustra velit aether et astra:
+      Ecce negat Pueri frons, oculique negant.
+    Ah, neget illa, negent illi: nam quem aethera mallent
+      Isti oculi? aut frons haec quae magis astra velit?
+    Quid si aliquod blanda face lene renideat astrum?
+      Lactea si coeli terque quaterque via est?
+    Blandior hic oculus, roseo hoc qui ridet in ore;
+      Lactea frons haec est terque quaterque magis.
+    Ergo negent, coelumque suum sua sidera servent:
+      Sidera de coelis non bene danda suis.
+    Ergo negant: seque ecce sua sub nube recondunt,
+      Sub tenera occidui nube supercilii:
+    Nec claudi contenta sui munimine coeli,
+      Quaerunt in gremio matris ubi lateant.
+    Non nisi sic tactis ubi nix tepet illa pruinis,
+      Castaque non gelido frigore vernat hyems.
+    Scilicet iste dies tam pulchro vespere tingi
+      Dignus; et hos soles sic decet occidere.
+    Claudat purpureus qui claudit vesper Olympum;
+      Puniceo placeas tu tibi, Phoebe, toro;
+    Dum tibi lascivam Thetis auget adultera noctem,
+      Pone per Hesperias strata pudenda rosas.
+    Illas nempe rosas, quas conscia purpura pinxit;
+      Culpa pudorque suus queis dedit esse rosas.
+    Hos soles, niveae noctes, castumque cubile,
+      Quod purum sternet per mare virgo Thetis;
+    Hos, sancti flores; hos, tam sincera decebant
+      Lilia; quaeque sibi non rubuere rosae.
+    Hos, decuit sinus hic; ubi toto sidere proni
+      Ecce lavant sese lacteo in oceano.
+    Atque lavent: tandemque suo se mane resolvant,
+      Ipsa dies ex hoc ut bibat ore diem.
+
+_On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord._
+
+    These tender travellers, feel they Night's dark sway,
+    Mother and Child, too good for whitest day?
+    For how will mother's cheeks, or lips of Child,
+    How kisses fare, from Night and Winter wild?
+    With lilies these, with roses, should be blest,
+    Or sweetest breath of violet-perfum'd West.
+    Such travellers merited to have no night,
+    Or, if at all, one whiter than our light.
+    Winter and Night these tender ones enclose,
+    And what Night plots, or Winter, ah, who knows?
+    Ah, lest fell Winter with its north-winds rage,
+    Ill-omen'd Night its wonted fears engage.
+    Ah, lest rough east-winds should Night's chariot draw,
+    Or harsh south-winds should shake the heart with awe.
+    What real perils troop in Darkness' train,
+    Over what monsters Night extends her reign:
+    What vagrant phantoms, which in false shapes go,
+    Stern-ey'd, black-pinion'd, like the gods below!
+    But standing forth in false forms or in true,
+    For these, for those, a Virgin's dread is due.
+    Come then, come, Cynthia, with resounding bow,
+    And clang thy full-charg'd quiver at the foe.
+    These monsters, those, thy darts unerring share,
+    Nor truer aim thy brother's arrows bear:
+    Come, then, O come, with all thy face a-flame,
+    Worthy thyself to take Apollo's name.
+    Thou know'st how Phoebus' sister ought to shine;
+    If not, learn, Cynthia, from these cheeks divine.
+    Placed here thy torch more beauty would display,
+    And Night from hence prefer to draw its day;
+    Such moon more modest shed its silent beam,
+    And shamefac'd stay her softly-going team.
+    O Moon, thy day no rose so chaste resembles,
+    Thy torch with no such virgin beauty trembles.
+    Come then, but bring thy troops of stars likewise;
+    For they can try to shine like the Child's eyes.
+    An eye, a star, twinkling with equal grace,
+    The face of heaven and the Child's heavenly face.
+    How well the charm of each transferr'd would show,
+    From hand to hand the mutual sceptres go!
+    Whether heaven's eye should deck His skiey brow,
+    Or the Child's star adorn heaven's forehead now.
+    If the Child's star on heaven's forehead shone,
+    That eye would seem to Him not less His own.
+    Place on His skiey forehead heaven's eye,
+    Not less 'twould deem itself in its own sky.
+    Such interchanges might the stars and skies
+    Make charmingly with the Child's brow and eyes.
+    For change of place the stars indeed might like
+    An everlasting treaty now to strike;
+    And differing though in numbers, e'en the skies
+    Might wish to bargain for a change of eyes.
+    With how much better stars the sky would shine,
+    If as its stars it had these eyes divine!
+    The stars would shine in how much better heaven,
+    If as their sky this brow divine were given!
+    So sky and stars may choose--in vain they choose;
+    For the Child's brow and His fair eyes refuse.
+    Ah, wisely; for these eyes what better heaven
+    Could wish? what better stars to brow be given?
+    What though some gentle star more softly gleams?
+    What if heaven's way thrice, four times, milky seems?
+    Softer this eye which smiles in ruddy face;
+    This milk-white brow, thrice, four times is its grace.
+    To quit their heaven, let then these stars deny;
+    Stars ought not to be ta'en from their own sky.
+    They do deny; and soon in cloud are hid,
+    In tender shadow of the drooping lid.
+    Nor with their own defence content they rest,
+    But seek a hiding-place in mother's breast.
+    Thus the snow melts where His warm touch is plac'd,
+    And genial Spring blooms out of Winter chaste.
+    Such day such evening-dew deserves to drink;
+    Such suns in such a bed deserve to sink.
+    Sky-closing Eve, thy purple veil entwine,
+    Sun, thy luxurious couch incarnadine;
+    While wanton Thetis day too early closes,
+    Thy shameless bed place 'mid Hesperian roses;
+    Roses, forsooth, by conscious blushes painted,
+    By sin with its own tell-tale redness tainted.
+    Nights snowy-white, chaste couch to these suns be,
+    Which virgin Thetis spreads o'er lucent sea;
+    All-holy flowers, lilies inviolate,
+    Roses with innocent blush upon them wait.
+    Be theirs this bosom, where reclin'd all night
+    They bathe themselves in ocean milky-white.
+    And let them bathe, till their own morn say, rise;
+    And Day itself drink splendour from these eyes.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVII.
+
+_Non dico, me rogaturum Patrem pro vobis._ Joan. xvi. 26.
+
+    Ah tamen ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Ille suos omni facie te figit amores;
+      Inque tuos toto effunditur ore sinus.
+    Quippe, tuos spectans oculos, se spectat in illis;
+      Inque tuo, Jesu, se fovet ipse sinu.
+    Ex te metitur sese, et sua numina discit:
+      Inde repercussus redditur ipse sibi.
+    Ille tibi se, te ille sibi par nectit utrinque:
+      Tam tuus est, ut nec sit magis ille suus.
+    Ergo roga: ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Illum ut ego rogitem? Hoc, eheu, non ore rogandum;
+      Ore satis puras non faciente preces.
+    Illum ego si rogitem, quis scit quibus ille procellis
+      Surgat, et in miserum hoc quae tonet ira caput?
+    Isto etiam forsan veniet mihi fulmen ab ore:
+      Saepe isto certe fulmen ab ore venit.
+    Ille una irati forsan me cuspide verbi,
+      Uno me nutu figet, et interii:
+    Non ego, non rogitem: mihi scilicet ille roganti
+      Durior esse potest, et solet esse, Pater.
+    Immo rogabo: nec ore meo tamen: immo rogabo
+      Ore meo, Jesu, scilicet ore tuo.
+
+_I do not say that I will pray the Father for you._
+
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    With favouring eyes He makes Thee all His love;
+    Toward Thine heart, Lord, His whole affections move.
+    Beholding Thy fair eyes Himself He sees;
+    In Thy pure breast Himself He cherishes.
+    By Thee He metes Himself, His godhead learns,
+    And, sweet reversion! to Himself returns.
+    He Thee, Thou He, in one Ye intertwine;
+    He is His own no more, He is so Thine.
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    Shall these lips, Lord, ask Him? But how should they?
+    With rightful words and pure they fail to pray.
+    If I should ask Him, then, what tempests dread,
+    What anger thundering o'er this wretched head!
+    His look perchance would gleam as lightning down--
+    Yea, oft, I know, as lightning falls His frown.
+    Perchance the javelin of one angry word,
+    One nod, would slay, and I should die unheard.
+    I? I'll not ask: Lord, He is wont to be,
+    He easy proves unkind, if ask'd of me.
+    Yet, stay: I'll ask:--not with these lips of mine;
+    Yea, with my lips,--my lips, Lord, namely Thine.      A.
+
+
+CLXXVIII.
+
+_In die ascensionis dominicae._ Act. i. 9, 10.
+
+    Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?
+      Heu, coeli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!
+    Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera coeli,
+      Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;
+    Phoebenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,
+      Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.
+    Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?
+      Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.
+    Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,
+      Aether[85] descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.
+
+    {Nyn eti h�meteron se, Christe, echomen ton er�ta?
+      Ouranou oun hosson ton phthonon h�s echomen;
+    Alla ech�men. echei hea men ta d' agalmata aith�r,
+      Astra te kai Phoibon kai kala t�n nephel�n.
+    Hosson e�n, h�min ophr' ei� hen tode astron?
+      Astron hen h�min �; eisi toi astr' hekaton.
+    Panta mat�n. hoti, Christe, sy ouk anebaines es auton,
+      Autos men kateb� ouranos eis se teos.}
+
+_On the day of the Lord's ascension._
+
+    Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
+    Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
+    But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
+    And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
+    Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
+    By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
+    'Twere little they should leave one light below:
+    Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
+    'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
+    To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky.         R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIX.
+
+_Caecus implorat Christum._ Marc. x. 46-52.
+
+    Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+    {Nykt' ele�son em�n, ele�son. nai toi ekeino,
+      Christe, emou �mar, nyx hod' emeio echei.
+    Ophthalm�n men ekeino, Theos, deetai tode gn�m�s;
+      M� moi tout' air�s, dos moi ekeino phaos.}[86]
+
+_The blind man implores Christ._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb,
+    Before my Lord to me His speech addresses?
+    Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.
+    My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:
+    This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXX.
+
+_Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex illis, &c._
+Luc. xv. 4.
+
+    O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!
+      Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.
+    Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,
+      Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.
+    Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;
+      Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.
+    Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;
+      Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.
+    Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:
+      De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.
+
+    {Eis men eg�, h� mou plan� peri�gen, al�mi;
+      Eis de toi s�s esomai g�thosynai pleones.
+    Amnos ho m� poi�n phobon ou poiei de te charma.
+      Meiz�n t�n men, emou chreia de glykyter�.}
+
+_What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, &c._
+
+    O might I fire the angel-bands with joy,
+    Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ!
+    A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play;
+    All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say.
+    The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me;
+    Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee!
+    They give no joy who never caus'd a fear;
+    Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear.
+    Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment;
+    Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXI.
+
+_Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti._ Act. xii. 2.
+
+    Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum,
+      Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput.
+    Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam,
+      Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput.
+    Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde,
+      Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit.
+
+    {En men, Iak�be, kephal�n toi xiphos ap�ren,
+      Hen tode kai stephanon xiphos ed�ke teon.
+    Mounon ameibesthai kephal�n, Iak�be, dynaito,
+      Keinos hod' h�s kalos martyriou stephanos.}
+
+_To Herod beheading St. James._
+
+    Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke,
+    Or how on his blest head thine anger broke.
+    Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord
+    Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword.
+    Only this sacred sanguinary crown
+    That sunder'd head was able to weigh down.        R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXII.
+
+_Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur._ Matt. xx. 34.
+
+    Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit:
+      Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum.
+    Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra
+      Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.[87]
+
+    {Cheir epiballomen� Christou epeballen op�p�n
+      Astra; op�deuei keina ge cheiri Theou.
+    Cheir hau� toutois pelen ouranos. astra gar oimai
+      En cheri taut' oisei Christos epeita he�.}
+
+_The blind men having received their sight follow Christ._
+
+    See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create,
+    Which on that hand with due observance wait.
+    That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they
+    Which He will hold in His right hand one day.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIII.
+
+_Zachaeus in sycomoro._ Luc. xix. 4.
+
+    Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?
+      Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?
+    Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,
+      Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.
+
+    {Tipt' epikompazeis keneon xein� de te karp�,
+      Kai phyllois semn� m�, sykom�re, teois?
+    Kai gar hod' ekkr�mn�s sou nyn mete�ros ap' ernous,
+      Ampelou ho klad�n essetai ouraniou.}
+
+_Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree._
+
+    Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?
+    Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?
+    He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,
+    A cluster soon will be of the True Vine.          R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIV.
+
+_On our crucified Lord naked and bloody._
+
+    Th' have left Thee naked, Lord: O that they had!
+    This garment too I would they had deny'd.
+    Thee with Thyselfe they have too richly clad,
+    Opening the purple wardrobe of Thy side.
+      O never could bee found garments too good
+      For Thee to weare, but these of Thine own blood.
+
+
+CLXXXV.
+
+_Sampson to his Dalilah._
+
+    Could not once blinding me, cruell, suffice?
+    When first I look't on thee, I lost mine eyes.
+
+
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken Heart.'_
+
+    Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak'st one seeme two by art:
+    What is Love's Sacrifice but The Broken Heart?
+
+
+II.
+
+_Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, sent to a gentlewoman._
+
+    Lo here the faire Chariclea, in whom strove
+    So false a fortune and so true a love!
+    Now after all her toyles by sea and land,
+    O may she but arrive at your white hand!
+    Her hopes are crown'd; onely she feares that than
+    Shee shall appeare true Ethiopian.
+
+
+III.
+
+_On marriage._
+
+    I would be married, but I'de have no wife:
+    I would be married to a single life.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_On Nanus mounted upon an ant._
+
+    High-mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
+    Was throwne, alas, and got a deadly fall;
+    Vnder th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies
+    All torne: with much adoe yet ere he dyes
+    Hee straines these words: Base Envy, doe laugh on:
+    Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes._
+
+    What, Mars his sword? faire Cytherea, say,
+    Why art thou arm'd so desperately to-day?
+    Mars thou hast beaten naked; and, O then,
+    What needst thou put on armes against poore men?
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Vpon the same._
+
+    Pallas saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cry'd:
+    Come if thou dar'st; thus, thus let us be try'd.
+    Why, foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee,
+    That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Out of Martiall._
+
+    Foure teeth thou hadst, that, ranck'd in goodly state,
+                        Kept thy mouth's gate.
+    The first blast of thy cough left two alone;
+                        The second, none.
+    This last cough, Delia, cought-out all thy feare;
+    Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.
+
+
+NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+These Secular, or, as the word was, 'Humane' Epigrams, all originally
+appeared in the volume of 1646, as before, and were continued in the
+after-editions. It is pleasant to have this recognition of John Ford
+(I.) by Crashaw. The two Tragedies celebrated, appeared in the same
+year, 1633. The 'Faire Ethiopian' of II. was doubtless William Lisle's
+poem so named [Lond. 1632],--not given by Hazlitt, _s.n._ The others are
+too well known to need annotation. These are all preserved, with a
+collection of others, in the Tanner MS., as before. G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+II.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+It is my great privilege to be the first to print the following
+extensive additions to the _Epigrammata Sacra_ of Crashaw. They are
+wholly derived from Archbishop Sancroft's MS. 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. RICHARD WILTON, 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. G.
+
+
+I.
+
+Act. xxviii. 3.
+
+    Paule, nihil metuas, non fert haec vipera virus:
+      Virtutem vestrae vult didicisse manus.
+    Oscula, non morsus; supplex, non applicat hostis.
+      Nec metuenda venit, sed miseranda magis.
+
+_St. Paul and the viper._
+
+    Paul, fear thou nought; no poison bears this asp:
+      It seeks to learn the virtue of thy hand.
+    Not as a foe, but suppliant, it would clasp;
+      Not fear, but pity, it would fain command.          G.
+
+
+II.
+
+Joan. vi. 14, 26.
+
+    Jam credunt, Deus es: Deus est, qui teste palato,
+      Quique ipso demum est judice dente Deus.
+    Scilicet haec sapiunt miracula: de quibus alvus
+      Proficere, et possit pingue latus fluere.
+    Haec sua fecisti populo miracula credunt.
+      Gens pia, et in ventrem relligiosa suum!
+
+_The miracle of the loaves._
+
+    Now truly they believe that Thou art God!--
+      God witness�d by palate and by tooth!--
+    They know the smack of miracles that load
+      And swell their paunches; yea, believe, forsooth.
+    To a most pious race, Lord, Thou appealest,
+    And stomachs most believing Thou revealest.           G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_In lacrymas Christi patientis._
+
+    Saeve dolor! potes hoc? oculos quoque perpluis istos?
+      O quam non meritas haec arat unda genas!
+    O lacrymas ego flere tuas, ego dignior istud,
+      Quod tibi cunque cadit roris, habere meum.
+    Siccine? me tibi flere tuas! ah, mi bone Jesu,
+      Si possem lacrymas vel mihi flere meas!
+    Flere meas? immo immo tuas, hoc si modo possem:
+      Non possem lacrymas, non ego flere meas.
+    Flere tuas est flere meas, tua lacryma, Christe,
+      Est mea vel lacryma est si tua, causa mea est.
+
+_Of the tears of the suffering Christ._
+
+    O cruel Pain! I ask thee how
+    Thou canst do what thou'rt doing now?
+    Dost thou also--or is't my fears?--
+    Drench His sweet eyes with scalding tears?
+    O how that show'r furrows amain
+    His undeserving cheek, as rain!
+    More meet it were that I should know
+    The tears that from His anguish flow:
+    More meet it were that I should feel
+    All dews that down His wan cheek steal:
+    O is it thus? Would that it were!
+    That I might weep Thy laden tear:
+    Yea, bless�d Jesus, would that I
+    For mine own self could weeping lie:
+    Mine own tears weep? nay, they are Thine,
+    For all Thy tears, alas, are mine.
+    Ah, not a tear that Thou didst shed,
+    When sorrow bow'd Thy sacred head,
+    But came of human woe or guilt,
+    For which at last Thy Blood was spilt;
+    And even if the tears were Thine,
+    Being for my sake, they're rather mine.               G.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_In sepulcrum Domini._ Joan. xix. 38-42.
+
+    Jam cedant, veteris cedant miracula saxi,
+      Unde novus subito fluxerat amne latex.
+    Tu felix rupes, ubi se lux tertia tollet,
+      Flammarum sacro fonte superba flues.
+
+_The sepulchre of the Lord._
+
+    Yield place, ye wonders of the ancient stone
+      Whence sudden-gushing streams were seen to flow:
+    When the third day, blest rock, on thee has shone,
+      Proudly with fount of sacred fire thou'lt glow.     G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Ubi amorem praecipit._ Joan. xiii. 14.
+
+    Sic magis in numeros morituraque carmina vivit
+      Dulcior extrema voce caducus olor;
+    Ut tu inter strepitus odii, et tua funera, Jesu,
+      Totus amor liquido totus amore sonas.
+
+_The parting words of Love._
+
+    E'en as the dying swan, sweeter for failing breath,
+      Dies not, but rather lives, in her last wistful song,
+    Dost Thou, Lord, mid hate's din and close-approaching death,
+      As Love, with melting voice, Thy dying love prolong. G.
+
+
+VI.
+
+Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Euge, Deus--pleno populus fremit undique plausu--
+      Certe non hominem vox sonat, euge, Deus!
+    Sed tamen iste Deus qui sit, vos dicite, vermes,
+      Intima turba illi; vos fovet ille sinu.
+
+_Herod devoured of worms._
+
+    Behold a god! full-voic'd the people cry;
+      Not man, but god, with shouts they him attest.
+    What kind of god he is, ye worms, reply--
+      A crowd that know the secrets of his breast.        G.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Bonum est nobis esse hic._
+
+    Cur cupis hic adeo, dormitor Petre, manere?
+      Somnia non alibi tam bona, Petre, vides.
+
+_It is good to be here._
+
+    Why seek'st thou, drowsy Peter, here to stay?
+    Elsewhere such pleasant dreams thou see'st not, eh?[88] G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Videte lilia agrorum ... nec Salomon, &c._ Matt. vi. 29.
+
+    Candide rex campi, cui floris eburnea pompa est,
+      Deque nivis fragili vellere longa toga;
+    Purpureus Salomon impar tibi dicitur esto.
+      Nempe, quod est melius, par fuit ille rosis.
+
+_Look on the lilies of the field ... not Solomon, &c._
+
+    O fairest monarch of the enamell'd field,
+      Whose is the blossom'd pomp of ivory splendour,
+    And whose the fleeces, snowy-white, which yield
+      Long-flowing robes immaculate and tender.
+    Ah, not like lilies--'tis divinely spoken--
+      Was Solomon, with sin encrimson�d;
+    But not unlike--and 'tis a better token--
+      Roses tear-wash'd, which hang the blushing head.  R. WI.
+
+
+IX.
+
+Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Voce manuque simul linguae tu, Christe, ciendae:
+      Sistendae nudis vocibus usus eras.
+    Sane at lingua equus est pronis effusus habenis:
+      Vox ciet, at sistit non nisi tota manus.
+
+
+_The deaf healed._
+
+    To wake the tongue--voice, hand too, Christ would use;
+      To check it, but a bare word of command.
+    Really, the tongue is as a horse rein'd-loose--
+      Starts at a word, stay'd only with strong hand.  R. WI.
+
+
+X.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    Non est hoc matris, sed, crede, modestia nati,
+      Quod virgo in gremium dejicit ora suum.
+    Illic jam Deus est, oculus jam Virginis ergo,
+      Ut coelum videat, dejiciendus erit.
+
+_The modesty of the blessed Virgin._
+
+    Not humbleness of mother, but of Child,
+    Shines in the downward gaze of Virgin mild.
+    The Virgin gazes where her God doth lie:
+    She must look down that Heaven may meet her eye.      G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_Mitto vos sicut agnos in medio luporum._
+
+    Hos quoque, an hos igitur saevi lacerabitis agnos?
+      Hic saltem, hic vobis non licet esse lupis.
+    At sceleris nulla est clementia, at ergo scietis,
+      Agnus qui nunc est, est aliquando Leo.
+
+_I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves._
+
+    These lambs also, e'en these, will ye, then, fiercely tear?
+    Here to be wolves, at least here, ye will never dare.
+    Alas, the wicked still are cruel; but ye'll learn
+    He Who is now a Lamb will one day Lion turn.          G.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Christus a daemone vectus._ Matt. iv.
+
+    Ergo ille, angelicis � sarcina dignior alis,
+      Praepete sic Stygio, sic volet ille vehi.
+    Pessime! nec laetare tamen tu scilicet inde,
+      Non minus es daemon, non minus ille Deus.
+
+_Christ carried by the devil._
+
+    Will He--O burden worthier angels' wings!--
+      Deign to be carried by swift fiend of hell?
+    Vilest! to thee this no advancement brings;
+      He no less God, thou no less demon fell.            G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, sterilis cur tibi mater erat?
+    Quam fuit ista tuae mira infoecundia matris!
+      In vocem sterilis rarior esse solet.
+
+_St. John the Baptist a voice._
+
+    'I am a voice, a voice,' says holy John.
+      If so, how should thy mother barren be?
+    This is unfruitfulness to muse upon;
+      Tongue-barren women we so seldom see!               G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Vox Joannes, Christus Verbum._
+
+    Monstrat Joannes Christum, haud res mira videtur:
+      Vox unus, verbum scilicet alter erat.
+    Christus Joanne est prior, haec res mira videtur:
+      Voce sua verbum non solet esse prius.
+
+_John the Voice, Christ the Word._
+
+    John points out Christ; no wonder this we deem:
+      One is a Voice, the other is the Word.
+    Christ is before John; wondrous this may seem;
+      For when was word before a voice e'er heard?        G.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_In natales Domini pastoribus nuntiatos._ Luc. ii. 8-19.
+
+    Ad te sydereis, ad te, bone Tityre, pennis
+      Purpureus juvenis gaudia tanta vehit.
+    O bene te vigilem, cui gaudia tanta feruntur,
+      Ut neque dum vigilas, te vigilare putes.
+    Quem sic monstrari voluit pastoribus aether,
+      Pastor an agnus erat? Pastor et agnus erat.
+    Ipse Deus cum Pastor erit, quis non erit agnus?
+      Quis non pastor erit, cum Deus agnus erit?
+
+_On the birth of the Lord announced to the shepherds._
+
+    To thee, good Tityrus, on starry wings        _shepherd_
+    The royal angel such 'glad tidings' brings.
+    Surely the happy watcher never thought
+    That he was watching when such joys were brought.
+    And He, Whom thus the heavenly host reveal'd
+    To shepherds 'mid their flocks in open field,
+    Tell me, was He a Shepherd or a Lamb?
+    Shepherd and Lamb at once; He took each name.
+    Since, then, our God a Shepherd's name doth wear,
+    The name of lamb who will not wish to bear?
+    And who will not be shepherd, since God deigns
+    To be a Lamb, for suffering of sin's pains?           G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Atheniensem merum._ Act. xvii. 28.
+
+    Ipsos naturae thalamos sapis, imaque rerum
+      Concilia, et primae quicquid agunt tenebrae,
+    Quid dubitet refluum mare, quid vaga sydera volvant;
+      Christus et est studiis res aliena tuis.
+    Sic scire, est tantum nescire loquacius illa:
+      Qui nempe illa sapit sola, nec illa sapit.
+
+_Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians._
+
+    Thou knowest Nature's secret things
+    And all her deepest counsellings--
+    All wonders of the primal Night
+    Conceal'd from prying human sight;
+    Knowest how the sea-tide pauses,
+    The wandering stars too in their causes.
+    But while to thee, in all else wise,
+    Christ from thy thoughts an alien lies,
+    In earthly studies to advance
+    Is but loquacious ignorance;
+    And he whose wisdom is but such,
+    Of those things even knows not much.
+    O, study thou beneath the Cross,
+    Or all thy labour is but loss!                        G.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Ego vitis vera._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Credo quidem, sed et hoc hostis te credidit ipse
+      Caiaphas, et Judas credidit ipse, reor.
+    Unde illis, Jesu, vitis nisi vera fuisses,
+      Tanta tui potuit sanguinis esse sitis?
+
+_I am the True Vine._
+
+    'Believe!' e'en Caiaphas, thy foe, believ�d
+      Thee the True Vine; and Judas too, I think.
+    Had they not, Lord, Thee as True Vine receiv�d,
+      Could they have thirsted so Thy Blood to drink?     G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Abscessum Christi queruntur Discipuli._
+
+    Ille abiit, jamque � quae nos mala cunque manetis,
+      Sistite jam in nostras tela parata neces.
+    Sistite; nam quibus haec vos olim tela paratis,
+      Abscessu Domini jam periere sui.
+
+_The departure of Christ lamented by the Disciples._
+
+    The Lord is gone; and now, all evils dire,
+      Hold back the darts which for our death you flourish:
+    Yea, hold them back, nor waste on us your ire,
+      For with our Lord's departure, lo, we perish.       G.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii. 1-4.
+
+    Quae vehit auratos nubes dulcissima nimbos?
+      Quis mitem pluviam lucidus imber agit?
+    Agnosco, nostros haec nubes abstulit ignes:
+      Haec nubes in nos jam redit igne pari.
+    O nubem gratam et memorem, quae noluit ultra
+      Tam saeve de se nos potuisse queri!
+    O bene; namque alio non posset rore rependi,
+      Coelo exhalatum quod modo terra dedit.
+
+_On the descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    What sweetest cloud comes wafting golden shower?
+    What gentle raindrops bring their shining dower?
+    The cloud which stole our flame, our heart's desire,
+    This very cloud returns with equal fire.
+    O kindly-mindful cloud, which could not brook
+    That we should mourn thee with so sad a look!
+    'Tis well; no other dew had countervail'd
+    That which from earth to heaven was late exhal'd.  R. WI.
+
+
+XX.
+
+Act. x. 39.
+
+    Quis malus appendit de mortis stipite vitam?
+      O malus agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit?
+    Immo, quis appendit vitae hac ex arbore mortem?
+      O bonus Agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit.
+    What wicked one affix'd Life to Death's tree?
+      O wretched gard'ner, call'st thou this engrafting?
+    Nay, tell me who affix'd Death to Life's tree?
+      O noble Gard'ner, this I call engrafting.           G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Ego sum Ostium._ Joan. x. 9.
+
+    Jamque pates, cordisque seram gravis hasta reclusit,
+      Et clavi claves undique te reserant.
+    Ah, vereor, sibi ne manus impia clauserit illas,
+      Quae coeli has ausa est sic aperire fores.
+
+_I am the Doore._
+
+    And now th' art set wide ope; the speare's sad art,
+    Lo, hath unlockt Thee at the very heart.
+    He to himselfe--I feare the worst--
+          And his owne hope,
+    Hath shut these doores of heaven, that durst
+          Thus set them ope.                             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Now Thou art open wide; the barrier dear
+    Of Thy great heart unclos'd by cruel spear;
+    And nails as keys unlock Thee everywhere.
+    Ah, he whose wicked hand thus forc'd the gate
+    Of heaven, perhaps at heaven's shut door will wait
+    One day, with outer darkness for his fate.            G.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_In spinas demtas a Christi capite cruentatas._
+
+    Accipe, an ignoscis? de te sata germina, miles.
+      Quam segeti est messis discolor illa suae!
+    O quae tam duro gleba est tam grata colono?
+      Inserit hic spinas: reddit et illa rosas.
+
+_Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head bloody._
+
+    Knowst thou this, souldier? 'tis a much-chang'd plant, which yet
+                          Thyselfe didst set;
+    'Tis chang'd indeed: did Autumn e're such beauties bring
+                          To shame his Spring?
+    O, who so hard an husbandman could ever find
+                          A soyle so kind?
+    Is not the soile a kind one, thinke ye, that returnes
+                          Roses for thornes?             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Take, soldier--know'st them not?--thy planted germs;
+      A harvest how unlike to its seed-corn!
+    What soil yields husbandman such kindly terms?
+      The rose he gathers, where he planted thorn.        G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+Joan. iii. 1-21.
+
+    Nox erat, et Christum, Doctor male docte, petebas
+      In Christo tenebras depositure tuas.
+    Ille autem multo dum te bonus irrigat ore,
+      Atque per arcanas ducit in alta vias,
+    Sol venit, et primo pandit se flore diei,
+      Ludit et in dubiis aureus horror aquis.
+    Sol oritur; sed adhuc, et adhuc tamen, � bone, nescis.
+      Sol oritur, tecum nox tamen est, et adhuc
+           .       .       .       .       .
+      Non coeli, illa fuit, nox fuit illa tua.
+
+_Nicodemus._
+
+    'Twas night; and, Teacher all untaught,
+    Thy darkness thou to Christ hast brought
+    But while attent He speaks to thee
+    Benignant words, that thou mayst see,
+    Leading higher still and higher,
+    As thy yearnings do aspire,
+    Guiding thee, by sure grace given,
+    Through secret paths that reach to heaven;
+    Lo, the Sun on thee is risen,
+    Bursting from his cloudy prison,
+    Showing Him, the Life, the Way,
+    Flushing with first bloom of day,
+    Quivering with a golden light
+    Such as on wav'ring seas gleams bright.
+    The Sun is risen; yet darkness lies,
+    Good Nicodemus, on thine eyes;
+    But the night's thine own; for, lo,
+    All heav'n above doth lustrous glow.                  G.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_Domitiano de S. Johanne ad portam Lat._
+
+    Ergo ut inultus eas? sed nec tamen ibis inultus,
+      Sic violare ausus meque meosque deos.
+    Ure oleo, lictor. Oleo parat urere lictor:
+      Sed quem uri lictor credidit, unctus erat.
+    Te quoque sic olei virtus malefida fefellit?
+      Sic tua te Pallas, Domitiane, juvat?
+
+_To Domitian, concerning St. John commanded to be cast into a caldron of
+boiling oil._
+
+    Thou go unpunish'd? That shall never be,
+    Since thou hast dar'd to mock my gods and me.
+    Burn him in oil!--The lictor oil prepares:
+    Behold the Saint anointed unawares!
+    With such elusive virtue was the oil fraught!
+    Such aid thy olive-loving Pallas brought![89]     R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_In Baptistam vocem._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Tantum habuit Baptista loqui, tot flumina rerum,
+      Ut bene Vox fuerit, praetereaque nihil.
+    Ecce autem Verbum est unum tantum ille loquutus:
+      Uno sed Verbo cuncta loquutus erat.
+
+_The voice of the Baptist._
+
+    The Baptist had to speak such floods of things,
+      That well he might be Voice and nothing more:
+    But one word only, lo, Christ speaks, which brings
+      In one word all: My soul that Word adore!           G.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_In D. Petrum angelo solutum._ Act. xii. 6, 7.
+
+    Mors tibi et Herodes instant: cum nuncius ales
+      Gaudia fert, quae tu somnia ferre putas.
+    Quid tantum dedit ille, rogo, tibi? Vincula solvit,
+      Mors tibi et Herodes nonne dedisset idem?
+
+_On St. Peter loosed by the angel._
+
+    Death, Herod, press on thee; when angel's wing
+    Brings joys which thou supposest dreams to bring.
+    What gave he thee? Thy chains burst at his touch;
+    But Death and Herod would have given as much.     R. WI.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequuti sunt eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Ad nutum Domini abjecisti retia, Petre.
+      Tam bene non unquam jacta fuere prius.
+    Scilicet hoc recte jacere est tua retia, Petre,
+      Nimirum, Christus cum jubet, abjicere.
+
+_On St. Peter casting away his nets at our Saviour's call._
+
+    Thou hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell
+    To cast thy nets on all occasions well.
+    When Christ calls, and thy nets would have thee stay,
+    To cast them well's to cast them quite away.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    At the Lord's word thy nets were cast away:
+      Never before thy nets so well were cast.
+    Rightly to cast them is to cast away,
+      When once The Master's order has been pass'd.       G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Agnus Dei, qui tollit peccata mundi._ Joan. i. 36.
+
+    Ergo tot heu, torvas facies, tot in ora leonum,
+      In tot castra lupum qui meat, Agnus erit?
+    Hic tot in horribiles, quot sunt mea crimina, pardos?
+      Hic tot in audaces ungue vel ore feras?
+    Ah melius, pugiles quis enim commiserit istos?
+      Quos sua non faciunt arma vel ira pares.
+
+_The Lamb of God, Who bears away the sins of the world._
+
+    Shall He, then, be a Lamb, to go
+    Forth against such various foe?
+    Lions ravenous, great of jaw;
+    Wolves in vast herds, of mighty paw;
+    Pards vengeful, prowling out and in--
+    Frightful, num'rous as my sin--
+    Awful of face, and gaunt and grim,
+    Merciless to mangle limb by limb.
+    Ah, goest Thou, gentle One, 'gainst these?
+    And does terror upon Thee seize?
+    O how unequal is the strife,
+    And the prey so grand a life!
+    With such as these to fight art fated?
+    Nor in arms nor passion mated.                        G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_Pisces multiplicati._ Joan. xxi. 11.
+
+    Quae secreta meant taciti tibi retia verbi,
+    Queis non tam pisces quam capis Oceanum?
+
+_The miraculous draught of fishes._
+
+    What nets, hid in Thy silent word,
+                      Passest Thou on;
+    By which not fish Thou takest, Lord,
+                      But the Ocean?                      G.
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Domine, non solum pedes, sed et caput, &c._ Joan. xiii. 9.
+
+    En caput, atque suis quae plus satis ora laborant
+      Sordibus; huc fluvios, ais [et] adde tuos.
+    Nil opus est; namque haec, modo tertius occinat ales,
+      E fluviis fuerint, Petre, lavanda suis.
+
+_Lord, not my feet only, but also my head, &c._
+
+    'Behold my head, behold my face,
+    Which sin's filthiest stains deface:
+    Here pour Thy streams:' thou say'st to Me.
+    But, Peter, needs not this for thee;
+    For ere the cock a third time crow,
+    Rivers of its own tears must flow.                    G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Quanta amor ille tuus se cunque levaverit ala,
+      Quo tua cunque opere effloruit alta manus;
+    Mundus adest, contraque tonat, signisque reponit
+      Signa, adeo sua sunt numina vel sceleri,
+    Imo, � nec nimii vis sit temeraria verbi,
+      Ille uno sensu vel tua cuncta premit.
+    Tot tantisque tuis mirac'lum hoc objicit unum,
+      Tot tantisque tuis non adhibere fidem.
+
+_Though they beheld so many miracles, they believed not._
+
+    However high in Thy great love Thou wingest,
+    And whatsoe'er within Thy hand Thou bringest,
+    Against Thee, with its thunders, stands the world,
+    Sign answering sign; Sin's banners all unfurl'd.
+    Nay--and let not the bold rash word appal--
+    One thought o' the world makes all Thy wonders fall:
+    Against Thy mightiest signs this one it wields--
+    To the vast whole of Thine, no faith it yields.       G.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_In nubem, quae Dominum abstulit._ Act. i. 9.
+
+    O nigra haec! quid enim mihi candida pectora monstrat,
+      Pectora cygneis candidiora genis?
+    Sit vero magis alba, suo magis aurea Phoebo,
+      Quantumcunque sibi candida; nigra mihi est.
+    Nigra mihi nubes! et qua neque nigrior Austros,
+      Vel tulit irati nuntia tela Dei.
+    Nigra! licet nimbos, noctem neque detulit ullam.
+      Si noctem non fert, at rapit, ecce, diem.
+
+_On the cloud which received the Lord._
+
+    O, this black cloud! a white breast does it show--
+    A breast more white than a swan's neck of snow?
+    More bright than golden sunshine let it be!
+    However fair itself, 'tis black to me.
+    From blacker cloud ne'er issu'd stormy blast,
+    Nor thunderbolts of angry heaven were cast.
+    Black! though no showers or shadows round it play;
+    If Night it bring not, yet it takes our Day.      R. WI.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Vidit urbem, et flevit super eam._ Luc. xix. 41, 42.
+
+    Ergo meas spernis lacrymas, urbs perfida? Sperne.
+      Sperne meas, quas � sic facis esse tuas.
+    Tempus erit, lacrymas poterit cum lacryma demum
+      Nostra, nec immerito, spernere spreta tuas.
+
+_He saw the city, and wept over it._
+
+    Why scornest thou My tears, deceitful city?
+      Scorn, scorn My tears, and thus thou mak'st them thine.
+    The time will come when thou shalt seek My pity;
+      But I shall scorn thy tears, as thou scorn'st Mine. G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Nec sicut iste publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Tu quoque dum istius miseri peccata fateris,
+      Quae nec is irato mitius ungue notat;
+    Hic satis est gemino bonus in sua crimina telo.
+      Interea, quid erit, mi Pharisaee, tuis?
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    While thou too dost this wretch's sins confess,
+    Which he with hand and tongue deplores no less;
+    If he 'gainst his own crimes twice just will be,
+    What thinks he meanwhile of the Pharisee?         R. WI.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+_Accedentes Discipuli excitaverunt eum._ Matt. viii. 25.
+
+    Ah, quis erat furor hos, tam raros, solvere somnos?
+      O vos, queis Christi vel sopor invigilat!
+    Illum si somnus tenuit, vos somnia terrent,
+      Somnia tam vanos ingeminata metus.
+    Nil Christi nocuit somnus, mihi credite. Somnus
+      Qui nocuit, vestrae somnus erat fidei.
+
+_His Disciples came and awoke Him._
+
+    What madness this, slumbers so rare to break,
+    O ye, for whom even Christ's sleep doth wake!
+    If sleep held Him, ye're terrified by dreams--
+    Dreams which redouble fear that only seems.
+    Christ's sleep nought injur'd you, indeed 'tis true:
+    Your faith's sleep, and that only, injur'd you.   R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In mulierem Canaanaeam cum Domino decertantem._ Matt. xv. 22-28.
+
+    Cedit io jam, jamque cadet modo, fortiter urge,
+      Jam tua ni desit dextera, jamque cadet.
+    Nimirum hoc velit ipse, tuo favet ipse triumpho,
+      Ipse tuas tacitus res tuus hostis agit.
+    Quas patitur facit ille manus; ictu ille sub omni est;
+      Atque in te vires sentit, amatque suas.
+    Usque adeo haud tuus hic ferus est, neque ferreus hostis;
+      Usque adeo est miles non truculentus Amor.
+    Illo quam facilis victoria surgit ab hoste,
+      Qui, tantum ut vinci possit, in arma venit!
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Now He yieldeth, now He falleth,
+    As thy passion on Him calleth:
+    Press thee nigher still and nigher,
+    Urge thee higher still and higher;
+    Cleave and cling, nor let thy hand
+    Cease to plead, nor fearing stand.
+    He thy triumph sees with gladness,
+    Loves thee in thy clinging sadness;
+    Seems thy foe, yet ne'ertheless
+    Yearns in His heart of love to bless;
+    Willing bears thy every blow,
+    That from His own pow'r doth flow;
+    Loves to hear thy interceding,
+    His own voice within thee pleading.
+    Ah, this seeming en'my of thine,
+    Of fierceness giveth thee no sign;
+    For Love no grim soldier is,
+    Rough and severe, denying bliss.
+    Eas'ly is that victory won,
+    When the foe seeks to be undone.                      G.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Quare comedit Magister vester cum peccatoribus, &c._ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Siccine fraternos fastidis, improbe, morbos,
+      Cum tuus, et gravior, te quoque morbus habet?
+    Tantum ausus medicum morbus sibi quaerere, magnus;
+      Tantum ausus medicum spernere, major erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with sinners, &c._
+
+    Dost loathe thy brother, Pharisee,
+      Since his disease to Christ he brings?
+    And knowest not that all men see
+      Disease to thee more deadly clings?
+    That he dare seek Healer so great,
+      Shows great his disease to be;
+    That thou dar'st scorn on Him to wait,
+      Shows a greater cleaves to thee.                    G.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_In febricitantem et hydropicum sanatos._ Marc. i. 30, 31; Luc. xiv.
+2-4.
+
+    Nuper lecta gravem extinxit pia pagina febrem,
+      Hydropi siccos dat modo lecta sinus.
+    Haec vice fraterna quam se miracula tangunt,
+      Atque per alternum fida juvamen amant!
+    Quippe ignes istos his quam bene mersit in undis,
+      Ignibus his illas quam bene vicit aquas!
+
+_Miracles of healing the men sick of fever and of dropsy._
+
+    We read within the sacred page
+    Christ quench'd a fever's burning rage;
+    Read that a dropsy's swollen flood
+    Ebb'd at His word e'en as He stood.
+    Well join'd these mir'cles each to other,
+    As loving brother unto brother:
+    How well these waters drown'd that flame,
+    That fire these waters overcame!                      G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_In S. Lucam medicum._ Col. iv. 14.
+
+    Hanc, mihi quam miseram faciunt mea crimina vitam,
+      Hanc, medici, longam vestra medela facit.
+    Hoc'ne diu est vixisse? diu, mihi credite, non est
+      Hoc vixisse; diu sed timuisse mori.
+    Tu foliis, Medice alme, tuis medicamina praebes,
+      Et medicaminibus, quae mala summa, malis.
+    Hoc mortem bene vitare est, vitare ferendo.
+      Et vixisse diu est hoc, cito posse mori.
+
+_To St. Luke the physician._
+
+    This life my sins with wretchedness make rife,
+    Physicians by their art prolong this life.
+    Is this to live long time? I hear one sigh;
+    This is but fearing a long time to die.
+    Thy leaves, Physician blest, medicines contain
+    E'en for our medicines poor, our chiefest bane.
+    This is to escape death well--in death to lie;
+    And this is to live long--quickly to die.         R. WI.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Tollat crucem suam, &c._ Matt. xxvii. 32.
+
+    Ergo tuam pone; ut nobis sit sumere nostram:
+      Si nostram vis nos sumere, pone tuam.
+    Illa, illa, ingenti quae te trabe duplicat, illa
+      Vel nostra est, nostras vel tulit illa cruces.
+
+_He bears His own cross, &c._
+
+    Wherefore Thy cross, O Lord, lay down,
+      That we our own may make it:
+    If ours Thou willest us to own,
+      Thine, Lord, lay down; we'll take it:
+    That, that, I say, with its huge beam,
+      Which Thy prest body doubles;
+    That cross, e'en that, our own we deem,
+      For it has borne our troubles.
+    Our sin Thy burden sendeth;
+    Thy cross our crosses blendeth.                       G.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_In cygneam D. Jesu cantionem._ Joan. xvii.
+
+    Quae mella, � quot, Christe, favos in carmina fundis!
+      Dulcis et, ah furias! ah, moribundus olor!
+    Parce tamen, minus hae si sunt mea gaudia voces:
+      Voce quidem dulci, sed moriente canis.
+
+_Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse with His disciples._
+
+    All Hybla's honey, all that sweetnesse can,
+    Flowes in Thy song, O faire, O dying Swan!
+    Yet is the joy I take in't small or none;
+    It is too sweet to be a long-liv'd one.              CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION. _On the swan-song of our Lord Jesus._
+
+    What songs, like honeycomb, your tongue employ,
+      Sweet Swan! but ah, Thou waitest for Death's call.
+    O cease; these sounds are but a doubtful joy;
+      'Tis a sweet voice, but has a dying fall.           G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Et conspuebant illum._ Marc. xiv. 65.
+
+    Quid non tam foede saevi maris audeat ira?
+      Conspuit ecce oculos, sydera nostra, tuos.
+    Forsan et hic aliquis sputo te excaecat, Jesu,
+      Qui debet sputo, quod videt ipse, tuo.
+
+_And they spat upon Him._
+
+    What will Wrath's sea, so foully fierce, not dare?
+    It spits upon our stars, Thy eyes so fair.
+    Perchance e'en here some one now spits on Thee
+    Who to Thy spittle owes it, he doth see.              G.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Rogavit eum, ut descenderet et sanaret filium suum._ Joan. iv. 47.
+
+    Ille ut eat tecum, in natique tuique salutem?
+      Qui petis; ah nescis, credo, quod ales Amor.
+    Ille ut eat tecum? quam se tua vota morantur!
+      Ille ut eat? tanto serius esset ibi.
+    Ne tardus veniat, Christus tecum ire recusat:
+      Christi nempe ipsum hoc ire moratur iter.
+    Christi nempe viis perit hoc quodcunque meatur:
+      Christi nempe viis vel properare mora est.
+    Hic est, cui tu vota facis tua, Christus: at idem,
+      Crede mihi, dabit haec qui rata, Christus ibi est.
+
+_He besought that He would go with him and heal his son._
+
+    That He would go with thee thou pleadest,
+    As for thy child thou intercedest.
+    Ah, little knowest thou how Love,
+    Such as descendeth from Above,
+    Swifter far is than feet can go,
+    Or any motion here below.
+    'Go with thee?' O how strange request!
+    Thou wouldst later then be blest.
+    That He may not slowlier come,
+    Christ will not travel with thee home,
+    For so to 'go' were to delay;
+    All paths unneeded by The Way.
+    Christ to Whom thou speakest pleading,
+    Christ with Whom thou'rt interceding,
+    He is here, and yet is yonder,
+    Swift as is the bolt of thunder:
+    He thy heart's desire will give;
+    Have thou faith, thy child shall live.                G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Pavor enim occupaverat eum super capturam piscium._ Luc. v. 9.
+
+    Dum nimium in captis per te, Petre, piscibus haeres,
+      Piscibus, ut video, captus es ipse tuis.
+    Rem scio, te praedam Christus sibi cepit: et illi
+      Una in te ex istis omnibus esca fuit.
+
+_For dread came upon him at the great draught of fishes._
+
+    Whilst, Peter, thou art so astonish�d
+                At thy draught of fishes,
+    Methinks thyself by them art captive led:
+                Christ to catch thee wishes,
+    So as one bait He setteth all these fishes.           G.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Viderunt et oderunt me._ Joan. xv. 24.
+
+    Vidit? et odit adhuc? Ah, te non vidit, Jesu.
+      Non vidit te, qui vidit, et odit adhuc.
+    Non vidit, te non vidit, dulcissime rerum;
+      In te qui vidit quid, quod amare neget.
+
+_But now they have seen and hated._
+
+    Seene, and yet hated Thee? They did not see;
+    They saw Thee not, that saw and hated Thee:
+    No, no, they saw Thee not, O Life, O Love,
+    Who saw aught in Thee that their hate could move.    CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See Thee, Lord, and hated still?
+    Ah, that were impossible:
+    See and hate? He saw Thee never
+    Who could see, nor love for ever.
+    O Thou, the all-lovely One,
+    He hath had no vision
+    Who can see and hate; for why,
+    Speck nor stain may none descry
+    In Thy lowly, lofty Face,
+    Full of sweetness, love, and grace.                  G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+Luc. xviii. 39.
+
+    Tu mala turba tace; mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Tuque in me linguam vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego, tunc taceam, mihi cum meus Ille loquetur.
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae tam laeta tuo ridet in ore diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Haec mea quam, fidei, nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Illa dies animi, Jesu, rogat hanc oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+_The blind suppliant._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb
+    Before my Lord to me His speech, etc.[90]
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Silence, silence, O vile crowd;
+    Yea, I will now cry aloud:
+    He comes near, Who is to me
+    Light and life and liberty.
+    Silence seek ye? yes, I'll be
+    Silent when He speaks to me,
+    He my Hope; ah, meek and still,
+    I shall 'bide His holy will.
+    O crowd, ye it may surprise,
+    But His voice holdeth my eyes:
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day that gives glad light;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day would lose its light,
+    If it gat not of Thee sight;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By day of faith upspringing bright;
+    That day within my soul that burns,
+    And for eyes' day unto Thee turns.
+    Lord, O Lord, give me this day,
+    Nor do Thou take that away.                           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_In Pharisaeos Christi verbis insidiantes._ Matt. xxii. 15.
+
+    O quam te miseri ludunt vaga taedia voti,
+      Ex ore hoc speras qui, Pharisaee, malum!
+    Sic quis ab Aurorae noctem speraverit ulnis,
+      Unde solet primis Sol tener ire rosis?
+    Sic Acheronta petas illinc unde amne corusco
+      Lactea sydereos Cynthia lavit equos.
+    Sic violas aconita roges: sic toxica nympham,
+      Garrula quae vitreo gurgite vexat humum.
+    Denique, ut exemplo res haec propriore patescat,
+      A te sic speret quis, Pharisaee, bonum?
+
+_The Pharisees insidiously watching the words of Christ._
+
+    O self-baffl'd Pharisee,
+    Vainly dost thou weary thee,
+    Hoping at His holy mouth
+    To catch other than the Truth:
+    Stainless, holy, pure is He,
+    Guileless as Simplicity.
+    Who would e'er expect black Night
+    In the bosom of the Light,
+    When the young sun in splendour burns,
+    And the dawn to roses turns?
+    Who, again, would seek to mark
+    Acheron plunging i' the dark,
+    Where white Cynthia's starry steeds
+    Lave them by the glitt'ring meads?
+    Who would aconite think to get
+    From the fragrant violet?
+    Or, watching by the babbling rill
+    Gushing in pureness from the hill,
+    Think thence poison to distil?
+    In fine, instance nearer thee--
+    Would any ever hope to see
+    Aught of good in Pharisee?                            G.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+Matt. ix. 20.
+
+    Falleris, et nudum male ponis, pictor, Amorem;
+      Non nudum facis hunc, cum sine veste facis.
+    Nonne hic est, dum sic digito patet ille fideli,
+      Tunc cum vestitus, tunc quoque nudus Amor?
+
+_Touched the hem of His garment._
+
+    Erringly, painter, thou portrayst Love bare:
+    Not bare you make him, though no clothes he wear.
+    Here, while laid open to believing hand,
+    Though clothed indeed, bare truly see Him stand.   R. WI.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+    Tolle oculos, tolle, � tecum tua sydera nostros.
+      Ah quid enim, quid agant hic sine sole suo?
+    Id quod agant sine sole suo tua sydera, coelum:
+      Id terrae haec agerent hic sine sole suo.
+    Illa suo sine sole suis caeca imbribus essent:
+      Caeca suis lacrymis haec sine sole suo.
+
+_The departing Saviour._
+
+    O take, take with Thee, Lord, Thy stars, our eyes;
+      What would they do left here without their sun?
+    E'en what your sunless stars would do, ye skies,
+      Would here by sunless stars of earth be done.
+    Without their sun, those dark with showers we see;
+    These without sun, dark with their tears would be.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nam ego non solum vinciri, &c._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Quid mortem objicitis nostro, quid vinc'la timori?
+      Non timor est illinc, non timor inde meus.
+    Vincula, quae timeam, sunt vincula sola timoris:
+      Sola timenda mihi est mors, timuisse mori.
+
+_Paul unfearing._
+
+    Why talk of death or bonds to me,
+    As if these things a fear could be?
+    My fear springeth not from thence;
+    Nor in these is influence
+    Me to trouble or alarm,
+    Me to fret, or me to harm.
+    The only bonds that fearful are
+    Are the bonds themselves of fear;
+    The only death looks dreadfully,
+    Is lest I should fear to die.                         G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_Legatio Baptistae ad Christum._ Matt. xi.
+
+    Oro, quis es? legat ista suo Baptista Magistro.
+      Illi quae referant, talia Christus habet.
+    Cui caecus cernit, mutus se in verba resolvit,
+      It claudus, vivit mortuus: oro, quis est?
+
+_The message of the Baptist to Christ._
+
+    I ask, Who art Thou? is the Baptist's word.
+    Straight from his Master this reply is heard:
+    He by whose mighty power dumb speak, blind see,
+    Lame walk, dead live: Who is This? I ask thee.    R. WI.
+
+
+LII.
+
+    Accipe dona, puer, parvae libamina laudis;
+      Accipe, non meritis accipienda suis:
+    Accipe dona, puer dulcis; dumque accipis illa,
+      Digna quoque efficies, quae, puer, accipies.
+    Sive oculo, sive illa tua dignabere dextra;
+      Dextram oculumque dabis posse decere tuum.
+    Non modo es in dantes, sed et ipsa in dona benignus;
+      Nec tantum donans das, sed et accipiens.
+
+_Gifts to Jesus._
+
+    Take, Lord, these gifts, small offerings of our hand,
+    Though their own worth acceptance none command.
+    Take, and while taking them, Thou Saviour sweet.
+    E'en what Thou takest, Thou wilt render meet.
+    Whether Thou deem them worthy eye or touch,
+    Thou wilt be able, Lord, to make them such:
+    Kind e'en to gifts themselves, as to those giving,
+    Thou givest both when giving and receiving.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_In partum B. Virginis non difficilem._
+
+    Nec facta est tamen illa parens impune, quod almi
+      Tam parcens uteri venerit ille puer.
+    Una haec nascentis quodcunque pepercerit hora.
+      Toto illum vitae tempore parturiit.
+    Gaudia parturientis erat semel ille parenti;
+      Quotidie gemitus parturientis erat.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition._
+
+    Not lightly she escap'd a mother's doom,
+    Although her Child dealt gently with her womb:
+    Whate'er was spar'd at the one hour of birth,
+    She travail'd with Him all His time on earth:
+    The joy of childbirth quickly pass'd away;
+    She felt the pangs of childbirth every day.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+    Circulus hic similem quam par sibi pergit in orbem!
+      Principiumque suum quam bene finis amat!
+    Virgineo thalamo quam pulchre convenit ille,
+      Quo nemo jacuit, virgineus tumulus!
+    Undique ut haec aequo passu res iret; et ille
+      Josepho desponsatus, et ille fuit.
+
+_Upon our Saviour's tombe, wherein never man was laid._
+
+    How life and death in Thee
+                        Agree!
+    Thou hadst a virgin wombe
+                        And tombe:
+    A Joseph did betroth
+                        Them both.                       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See how a circle tends,
+    Beginning as it ends:
+    Behold a virgin womb;
+    Behold a virgin tomb;
+    Behold, and wonder at the truth,
+    A Joseph was espous'd to both!                        G.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_In Sanctum igneis linguis descendentem Spiritum._ Act. ii. 3.
+
+    Absint, qui ficto simulant pia pectora vultu,
+      Ignea quos luteo pectore lingua beat.
+    Hoc potius mea vota rogant, mea thura petessunt,
+      Ut mihi sit mea mens ignea, lingua luti.
+
+_On the Holy Spirit descending in fiery tongues._
+
+    Begone, who goodness feign with a false face,
+    Whom fiery tongues in earthy bosom grace.
+    This rather all my prayers and gifts desire,
+    A tongue of earth, if but my heart be fire.       R. WI.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+LIFE FOR DEATH.[91]
+
+_Whosoever will loose his life, &c._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    Soe I may gaine Thy death, my life I'le giue,--
+    My life's Thy death, and in Thy death I liue;
+    Or else, my life, I'le hide thee in His graue,
+    By three daies losse �ternally to saue.              CR.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+ON THE DIVINE LOVE: AFTER H. HUGO.[92]
+
+_In amorem divinum_ (Hermannus Hugo).
+
+    �ternall Loue! what 'tis to loue Thee well,
+    None but himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.
+    But oh, what to be lou'd of Thee as well,
+    None, not himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.     CR.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+III.
+
+HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED.
+
+1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+
+
+FIDES, QUAE SOLA JUSTIFICAT,
+NON EST SINE SPE ET DILECTIONE.
+
+
+    Nam neque tam sola est. O quis male censor amarus
+      Jam socias negat in mutua sceptra manus?
+    Deme Fidem; nec aget, nec erit jam nomen Amoris:
+      Et vel erit, vel aget quid sine Amore Fides?
+    Ergo, Amor, i, morere; i, magnas, Puer alme, per umbras     5
+      Elysiis non tam numen inane locis.
+    O bene, quod pharetra hoc saltem tua praestat et arcus,
+      Ne tibi in extremos sit pyra nulla rogos!
+    O bene, quod tuus has saltem tibi providet ignis,
+      In tu quas possis funera ferre faces!                    10
+    Durus es, ah, quisquis tam dulcia vincula solvis;
+      Quae ligat, et quibus est ipse ligatus Amor.
+    O bene junctarum divortia saeva sororum,
+      Tam penitus mixtas quae tenuere manus!
+    Nam quae, tam varia, in tam mutua viscera vivunt?          15
+      Aut ubi, quae duo sunt, tam prope sunt eadem?
+    Alternis sese circum amplectuntur in ulnis:
+      Extraque et supra, subter et intus eunt.
+    Non tam Nympha tenax, Baccho jam mista marito,
+      Abdidit in liquidos mascula vina sinus.                  20
+    Compare jam dempto, saltem sua murmura servat
+      Turtur, et in viduos vivit amara modos.
+    At Fidei sit demptus Amor; non illa dolebit,
+      Non erit impatiens aegraque; jam moritur.
+    Palma, marem cui tristis hyems procul abstulit umbram,     25
+      Protinus in viridem procubuit faciem?
+    Undique circumfert caput, omnibus annuit Euris;
+      Siqua maritalem misceat aura comam:
+    Ah misera, expectat longum, lentumque expirat,
+      Et demum totis excutitur foliis.                         30
+    At sine Amore Fides nec tantum vivere perstat,
+      Quo dici possit vel moritura Fides.
+    Mortua jam nunc est: nisi demum mortua non est
+      Corporea haec, anima deficiente, domus.
+    Corpore ab hoc Fidei hanc animam si demis Amoris,          35
+      Jam tua sola quidem est, sed male sola Fides.
+    Hectore ab hoc, currus quem jam nunc sentit Achillis,
+      Hectora eum speres quem modo sensit herus?
+    Tristes exuvias, Oetaei frusta furoris,
+      Vanus, in Alcidae nomen et acta vocas?                   40
+    Vel satis in monstra haec, plus quam Nemeaea, malorum
+      Hoc Fidei torvum et triste cadaver erit?
+    Immo, Fidem usque suos velut ipse Amor ardet amores;
+      Sic in Amore fidem comprobat ipsa Fides.
+
+ERGO:
+
+    Illa Fides vacua quae sola superbiat aula,                 45
+      Quam Spes desperet, quam nee amabit Amor;
+    Sola Fides haec, tam misere, tam desolate
+      Sola, quod ad nos est, sola sit usque licet.
+    A sociis quae sola suis, a se quoque sola est.
+      Quae sibi tam nimia est, sit mihi nulla Fides.           50
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+FAITH, WHICH ALONE JUSTIFIES,
+
+EXISTS NOT WITHOUT HOPE AND LOVE.
+
+    That Faith which only justifies
+    A sinner as in guilt he lies,
+    Bow'd aneath the awful blood,
+    Clinging to the uplifted rood,
+    Is not alone so as nor Love
+    Nor heavenly Hope may in it move,
+    To thrill with touch of ecstasy
+    The bruis�d heart, the swimming eye.
+      What, censor! bitter to ill end,
+    Dost thou thy dogma still defend?
+    And wouldest thou to hands allied
+    Mutual sceptres see denied,
+    Snapping betwixt Faith and Love
+    The tie that binds them from Above?
+    I tell thee nay, stone-hearted one,
+    The Faith of Christ is not alone:
+    Take Faith away, and Love will sigh;
+    Take Hope away, and Faith will die;
+    Take Faith away, Love will do naught;
+    Take Love away, and Faith's distraught:
+    For I tell thee, vain sophister,
+    They're as sister unto sister.
+      But mark, this Love that brings Faith joy
+    Is not blind Cupid. Ah, bright Boy,
+    Begone; thou shalt not, wouldst thou, stay;
+    Go, get thee swift from light o' day;
+    Go, get thee now to the vast shades,
+    And there indulge thy escapades:
+    Thou in Elysian realms mayst reign
+    A fitting deity, not vain:
+    Go therefore, and with thee thy bow
+    And quiver. Well it is below
+    That these for thee shall form a pyre,
+    To which thy torch will furnish fire.
+      But, ah, thou hast a heart of stone,
+    Who wouldest make Faith live alone,
+    Loos'ning the sweet ties Love has found
+    To bind Faith to her, herself bound.
+    O, it is cruel thus to sever
+    Sisters whom God hath join�d ever;
+    Whose clasp�d hands so closely cling,
+    E'en as vine-tendrils ring on ring:
+    You may not tell there's more than one,
+    So absolute the union.
+    Where shall you find beneath the sky
+    Two differing so variously,
+    And yet each life in other bound,
+    Touch one, the other you shall wound:
+    Or where, 'mid all the pairs on earth,
+    Twins through marriage or through birth,
+    Shall you find two so truly one?
+    Arms twining in affection,
+    They clasp each other, chin to chin,
+    Above, below, without, within,
+    Embracing and embrac'd by turns;
+    Yet not with such wild-fire as burns
+    In Lust's hot touch, and clasp and grasp
+    Eager and stinging as tongue of asp.
+    Not so closely interwine
+    The graceful Elm and clinging Vine,
+    When to bosom of the tree
+    Bacchus' clusters prest you see,
+    And the Nymph the fruit receives,
+    And hides it amid dewy leaves;
+    Ev'n as the poets tell of old,
+    In legends of the Age of Gold.
+      Faith and Love know no such flame,
+    Their pure twining brings no shame;
+    Look for taint, you'll find it missing:
+    'Tis as flower flower kissing;
+    Or twin-roses dewy dripping,
+    And twin-bees their honey sipping.
+      The Turtle-dove, robb'd of her mate,
+    Pines and mourns disconsolate;
+    Yet still lives on in widow'd grief,
+    Knowing at times Hope's sweet relief.
+    But Faith when once of Love bereft
+    Loses her all, has nothing left;
+    Nor mourns nor frets nor pales--she's dead,
+    Struck to the heart astoni�d.
+      The Palm that by the wintry blast
+    Sees her companion-tree downcast,
+    Whose mighty shadow o'er her threw
+    Protection when the fierce storm blew;
+    Her umbrage sheds, and quivering
+    Seeks that some fav'ring wind would bring
+    Her branches with his boughs to mingle,
+    Since she is left in sadness, single;
+    Wretched, she wears and wastes away,
+    Leaf following leaf in wan decay,
+    Until at last, naked and bare,
+    She shivers in the piercing air;
+    And when the Spring comes, Winter sped,
+    'Tis vain to call her--she is dead!
+      But when Love from Faith is gone,
+    Faith lingers not still on and on;
+    That while her form yet meets your eye,
+    You can pronounce 'She'll surely die.'
+    SHE'S DEAD i' the instant: or you will
+    Maintain a stark corpse liveth still,
+    Whose soul has pass'd beyond the sky,
+    Sunder'd until the last great Cry.
+    Faith is the body, Love the soul;
+    Take Love from it, you take the whole:
+    Now, now indeed thy Faith's alone,
+    But being alone, lo, it is none.
+    To make it clear, turn Homer's page
+    That paints Achilles' hate and rage,
+    When, having mighty Hector slain,
+    He dragg'd him dead over the plain--
+    That Hector whom the chariot feels
+    Dragg'd helpless, lifeless at its wheels,
+    Was it the same who, with proud crest,
+    That chariot's lord had lately prest,
+    Eager the victory to wrest?
+    Hercules' name and deeds dost see
+    In Oeta's bloody tragedy,
+    When dead the mighty hero lay,
+    Of jealousy the poison'd prey.
+    His living strength the lion slew,
+    And hide Nem�an round him threw:
+    'Gainst more than lion-rage of Death
+    Dost summon the sad corpse of Faith?
+    Sure Love with love for Faith will burn,
+    While Faith herself trusts Love in turn.
+
+THEREFORE:
+
+    That Faith alone, lording it high,
+    Which Hope despairs of, and with cry
+      Of anguish Love can never love,
+      Is not the Faith sent from Above:
+      The Faith that thus would be alone,
+      What is't to us--desolate, lone?
+      Faith then, that lov�d will not love
+      Nor hope--may no such Faith me move!
+      But ever in my bosom lie
+      Faith, Hope, and Love in trinity:
+    Yea, Love himself shall Faith's best lover prove,
+    And Faith confirm his strongest faith in Love.        G.
+
+
+BAPTISMUS NON TOLLIT FUTURA PECCATA.
+
+    Quisquis es ille tener modo quem tua mater[93] Achilles
+      In Stygis aethereae provida tinxit aquis,
+    Sanus, sed non securus dimitteris illinc:
+      In nova non tutus vulnera vivis adhuc.
+    Mille patent aditus; et plus quam calce petendus            5
+      Ad nigri metues spicula mille dei.
+    Quod si est vera salus, veterem meminisse salutem;
+      Si nempe hoc vere est esse, fuisse pium;
+    Illa tibi veteres navis quae vicerat Austros,
+      Si manet in mediis usque superstes aquis;                10
+    Ac dum tu miseros in littore visis amicos,
+      Et peccatorum triste sodalitium,
+    Illa tibi interea tutis trahet otia velis,
+      Expectans donec tu rediisse queas:
+    Quin igitur da vina, puer; da vivere vitae;                15
+      Mitte suum senibus, mitte supercilium;
+    Donemus timide, � socii, sua frigora brumae:
+      Aeternae teneant hic nova regna rosae.
+    Ah, non tam tetricos sic eluctabimur Euros;
+      Effractam non est sic revocare ratem.                    20
+    Has undas aliis decet ergo extinguere in undis;
+      Naufragium hoc alio immergere naufragio:
+    Possit ut ille malis oculus modo naufragus undis,
+      Jam lacrymis melius naufragus esse suis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+BAPTISM CANCELS NOT AFTER-SINS.
+
+    O young Achilles, whom a mother's care
+      Hath dipp'd as in a sacred Stygian wave;
+    Whole, but yet not secure, thou hence dost fare,
+      For there are wounds from which it will not save.
+    A thousand ways of entrance open lie
+      For evil; not alone against thy heel
+    The prince of darkness in his rage lets-fly
+      The thousand arrows thou mayst dread to feel.
+    But if remember'd health may still have given
+      True health, and to have been is still to be,
+    Thou seem'st as one whose bark, by storms unriven,
+      Still rides, as yet unconquer'd, on the sea;
+    And, while on shore thy friends thou visitest,
+      And the sad company of them that sin,
+    With furl�d sails upon the waves at rest,
+      Thy bark floats idly till thou art within.
+    But if for this thou criest overbold,
+      'Bring wine! enjoy the moment as it goes;
+    Leave to old age its cares; dismiss the cold,
+      While in new realms for ever reigns the rose!'
+    Ah, know that not in revels such as these
+      Learn we to struggle with the spiteful gale;
+    Nor thus can hope to rescue from rough seas
+      The broken cable and the driven sail.
+    These waves must in another wave be wash'd,
+      This shipwreck in another shipwreck drown'd;
+    The eye in such ill storms so vilely dashed,
+      A happier wreck in its own tears be found.         CL.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+IV.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The Sancroft MS., as before, furnishes the following hitherto
+    unprinted longer Poems, which I place under SACRED, as being
+    throughout in subject and treatment such. The Rev. RICHARD WILTON,
+    M.A., as before, has at once the praise and responsibility of the
+    translations in the whole of this section. G.
+
+
+
+
+PSALMUS I.
+
+
+    O te te nimis et nimis beatum,
+    Quem non lubricus implicavit error;
+    Nec risu misero procax tumultus.
+    Tu cum grex sacer undique execrandis
+    Strident consiliis, nec aure felix;
+    Felix non animo, vel ore mixtus,
+    Haud intelligis impios susurros.
+    Sed tu deliciis ferox repostis
+    Cultu simplice, sobriaque cura
+    Legem numinis usque et usque volvis.
+    Laeta sic fidas colit arbor undas,
+    Quem immiti violentus aura
+    Seirius frangit, neque contumacis.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    This fragment of a Latin rendering of the first Psalm may be
+    compared with BUCHANAN'S, but, I fear, not to its advantage. It were
+    superfluous to give a translation of it; but see the parallel which
+    follows. G.
+
+
+IRA PROCELLAE.
+
+    At tu, profane pulvis, et lusus sacer
+    Cujusvis aurae; fronte qua tandem feres
+    Vindex tribunal? quanta tum, et qualis tuae
+    Moles procellae stabit? O quam ferreo
+    Frangere nutu, praeda frontis asperae,
+    Sacrique fulminandus ah procul, procul
+    A luce vultus, aureis procul a locis,
+    Ubi longa gremio mulcet aeterno pios.
+    Sincera semper pax, et umbrosa super
+    Insurgit ala, vividique nectaris
+    Imbres beatos rore perpetuo pluit.
+    Sic ille, sic, � vindice, stat vigil,
+    Et stabit ira torvus in impios,
+      Seseque sub mentes bonorum
+        Insinuat facili favore.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE WRATH OF THE JUDGMENT-WHIRLWIND.
+
+    But thou, O dust profane, and of each air
+    The plaything doom'd, with what face wilt thou bear
+    The Judgment-throne? how huge a stormy cloud
+    Will lower upon thee! how wilt thou be bow'd
+    With iron nod, the prey of frowning Face,
+    By thunder to be driven far off, apace,
+    From light of sacred Countenance! afar
+    From golden regions, where the righteous are,
+    Sooth'd in pure Peace's lap eterne, whose wing
+    Towers high above them, overshadowing;
+    While happy showers of nectar sweet imbue
+    Their lips, as with an everlasting dew.
+      The wicked so His watchful ire will learn,
+    And cower 'neath God's avenging countenance stern;
+    The righteous so His love divine will feel
+    With gentle lapse into their bosom steal.         R. WI.
+
+
+CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+    Ergo veni; quicunque ferant tua signa timores,
+      Quae nos cunque vocant tristia, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; suus avulsum rapiat labor axem,
+      Nec sinat implicitas ire redire vias;
+    Mutuus attonito titubet sub foedere mundus,
+      Nec natura vagum dissona volvat opus.
+    Christe, veni; roseos ultra remeare per ortus
+      Nolit, et ambiguos Sol trahat aeger equos.
+    Christe, veni; ipsa suas patiatur Cynthia noctes,
+      Plus quam Thessalico tincta tremore genas;
+    Astrorum mala caesaries per inane dolendum
+      Gaudeat, horribili flore repexa caput;
+    Sole sub invito subitae vis improba noctis
+      Corripiat solitam, non sua jura, diem;
+    Importuna dies, nec Eoi conscia pacti,
+      Per desolatae murmura noctis eat.
+    Christe, veni; tonet Oceanus pater, et sua nolit
+      Claustra vagi montes sub nova sceptra meent.
+    Christe, veni; quodcunque audet metus, audeat ultra
+      Fata id agant, quod agant; tu modo, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; quacunque venis mercede malorum.
+      Quanti hoc constiterit cunque venire, veni.
+    Teque tuosque oculos tanti est potuisse videre!
+      O tanti est te vel sic potuisse frui!
+    Quicquid id est, veniat. TU MODO, CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EVEN SO: COME, LORD JESUS.
+
+    O come; whatever fears Thy standards carry,
+    Or sorrows summon us, Lord, do not tarry.
+    Come, Lord; though labouring heaven whirl from its place,
+    And its perplex�d paths no more can trace;
+    Though sympathising earth astonied reel,
+    And nature jarr�d cease its round to wheel.
+    Come, Lord; though sun refuse with rosy beam
+    To rise, and sickly drives a doubtful team.
+    Come, Lord; though moon look more aghast at night
+    Than when her cheeks with panic fear are white;
+    Though ominous comets through the dolorous air
+    Hurtle, and round their brow dread fire-wreaths wear;
+    Though spite of struggling sun Night's sudden sway
+    Impious and lawless seize the accustom'd day;
+    Mistim�d Day, mindless of eastern glow,
+    Through moanings of forsaken Night should go.
+    Come, Lord; though father Ocean roars and lowers,
+    That his mov'd mountain-bars own other powers.
+    Come, Lord; whate'er Fear dares, e'en let it dare;
+    Let Fates do what they will, be Thou but there.
+    Come, Lord; with whate'er recompense of ill,
+    Whate'er Thy coming cost, O come, Lord, still.
+    Thee and Thine eyes, O what 'twill be to see!
+    Thee to enjoy e'en so, what will that be!
+    Let come what will, do Thou, Lord, only come.     R. WI.
+
+
+CIRCUMCISIO.
+
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, qui tam bona lilia primus
+      In tam crudeles jussit abire rosas;
+    Virgineum hoc qui primus ebur violavit ab ostro,
+      Inque sui instituit muricis ingenium.
+    Scilicet hinc olim quicunque cucurrerit amnis,
+      Ex hoc purpurei germine fontis erit.
+    Scilicet hunc mortis primum puer accipit unguem,
+      Injiciunt hodie fata, furorque manus.
+    Ecce illi sanguis fundi jam coepit; et ecce
+      Qui fundi possit, vix bene sanguis erat;
+    Excitat e dolio vix dum bene musta recenti,
+      Atque rudes furias in nova membra vocat.
+    Improbus, ut nimias jam nunc accingitur iras,
+      Armaque non molli sollicitanda manu;
+    Improbus, ut teneras audet jam ludere mortes,
+      Et vitae ad modulum, quid puerile mori;
+    Improbus, ut tragici impatiens praeludia fati
+      Ornat, et in socco jam negat ire suo:
+    Scilicet his pedibus manus haec meditata cothurnos?
+      Haec cum blanditiis mens meditata minas?
+    Haec tam dura brevem decuere crepundia dextram?
+      Dextra giganteis haec satis apta genis?
+    Sic cunis miscere cruces? cumque ubere matris
+      Commisisse neces et scelus et furias?
+    Quo ridet patri, hoc tacite quoque respicit hastam,
+      Quoque oculo matrem mulcet, in arma redit.
+    Dii superi, furit his oculis! hoc asper in ore est!
+      Dat Marti vultus, quos sibi mallet Amor.
+    Deliciae irarum! torvi, tenera agmina, risus!
+      Blande furor! terror dulcis! amande metus!
+    Praecocis in paenas pueri lascivia tristis!
+      Cruda rudimenta! et torva tyrocinia!
+    Jam parcum breviusque brevi pro corpore vulnus,
+      Proque brevi brevior vulnere sanguis eat:
+    Olim, cum nervi vitaeque ferocior haustus
+      Materiam morti luxuriemque dabunt;
+    Olim maturos ultro conabitur imbres;
+      Robustum audebit tunc solidumque mori.
+    Ergo illi, nisi qui in saevos concreverit usus,
+      Nec nisi quem possit fundere, sanguis erit?
+    Euge, puer trux! euge tamen mitissime rerum!
+      Quique tibi tantum trux potes esse, puer?
+    Euge tibi trux! euge mihi mitissime rerum!
+      Euge Leo mitis! trux sed et Agne tamen!
+    Macte, puer, macte hoc tam durae laudis honore!
+      Macte, o paenarum hac indole et ingenio!
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, tam docte dolorum,
+      In tristem properas sic, puer, ire virum.
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, puer auree, crescis,
+      Mortis proficiens hac quasi sub ferula.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.
+
+    Ah, fierce, fierce knife, which such sweet lilies first
+    Into such cruel roses made to burst;
+    Which first this ivory pure with purple stain'd,
+    And in the white a deeper dye engrain'd.
+    Whatever stream hereafter hence shall flow,
+    Out of this purple fountain-head shall grow.
+    Now first this tender Child Death's talons knows,
+    The Fates and Fury now hurl their first blows.
+    See now His blood begins to pour; and see
+    Scarce blood enough to pour there seems to be.
+    Scarce wise to broach the new wine from the wood,
+    And 'gainst those young limbs call the Furies rude.
+    Wanton, e'en now He girds on woes too much,
+    And arms not to be tried by such soft touch:
+    Wanton, He dares at gentle deaths to play,
+    And for His age to die, as a child may:
+    Wanton, beforehand acts His tragic woe,
+    Restless, refusing in child-step to go.
+    Buskins is this hand shaping for those feet,
+    And does this mind plan threats with coaxings sweet?
+    Such playthings stern does this small hand bespeak,
+    And is it match'd with giant's iron cheek?
+    To mingle cross with cradle, mother's breast
+    With slaughter, wickedness, and rage unblest?
+    His smiling eye now glances at the spear,
+    And turns to arms from soothing mother dear.
+    God, with such face to frown, such eyes to rage!
+    War wins the looks which Love would fain engage.
+    O winsome angers! savage smiles--mild brood--
+    Soft rage, sweet terror, awe which might be woo'd!
+    Sad wanton forwardness of Child for woes;
+    Harsh rudiments, stern training which He chose!
+    Now scantier wound for scanty body show,
+    And scantier blood for scanty wound let now.
+    Soon, when His strength and deeper draught of breath
+    Shall furnish food luxuriously for Death,
+    'Twill be His pleasure then full showers to try,
+    Then will He strongly, wholly dare to die.
+    No blood but what to cruel use will grow
+    To Him belongs, or what He can bid flow.
+    Ah, cruel Child, though of all things most mild,
+    Yet to Thyself Thou canst be cruel, Child;
+    To Thyself cruel, but most mild to me;
+    A Lion mild, a pitiless Lamb here see.
+    Long, long may this stern praise Thine honour lift,
+    A faculty for woes[94] and innate gift.
+    Fierce knife, from which experience sharp He borrows,
+    While the Child hastes to grow the Man of Sorrows;
+    Fierce knife, 'neath which Thou draw'st Thy golden breath,
+    Advancing as 'twere 'neath the rod of Death.      R. WI.
+
+
+VIRGO.
+
+    Ne, pia, ne nimium, Virgo, permitte querelis:
+      Haud volet, haud poterit natus abesse diu.
+    Nam quid eum teneat? vel quae magis oscula vellet?
+      Vestri illum indigenam quid vetet esse sinus?
+    Quippe illis quae labra genis magis apta putentur?
+      Quaeve per id collum dignior ire manus?
+    His sibi quid speret puer ambitiosius ulmo,
+      Quove sub amplexu dulcius esse queat?
+    O quae tam teneram sibi vitis amicior ulmum
+      Implicet, alternis nexibus immoriens?
+    Cui circum subitis eat impatientior ulnis?
+      Aut quae tam nimiis vultibus ora notet?
+    Quae tam prompta puer toties super oscula surgat?
+      Qua signet gemma nobiliore genam?
+    Illa ubi tam vernis adolescat mitius auris,
+      Tamve sub apricis pendeat uva jugis?
+    Illi qua veniat languor tam gratus in umbra?
+      Commodius sub quo murmure somnus agat?
+    O ubi tam charo, tam casto in carcere regnet,
+      Maternoque simul virgineoque sinu,
+    Ille ut ab his fugiat, nec tam bona gaudia vellet?
+      Ille ut in hos possit non properare sinus?
+    Ille sui tam blanda sinus patrimonia spernet?
+      Haeres tot factus tam bene deliciis?
+    Ne tantum, ne Diva, tuis permitte querelis:
+      Quid dubites? Non est hic fugitivus Amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VIRGIN MARY,
+
+ON LOSING THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    Not, not too much, Virgin, to plaints give way;
+    Nor will, nor can, thy Son long from thee stay.
+    Why should He? Where so love to be carest?
+    What could prevent His nestling in thy breast?
+    What lips more suited to those cheeks divine?
+    What hand to clasp that neck more fit than thine?
+    What could He hope more clinging than these arms?
+    Or what embraces e'er possess such charms?
+    What kindlier vine its tender elm around
+    Could twine, in mutual folds e'en dying found?
+    To whom with sudden arms more eager go?
+    Who on this face such yearning glances throw?
+    Where 'mid such quick-rain'd kisses could He wake?'
+    Whence His prest cheek a nobler ruby take?
+    Where could that grape ripen in airs more mild,
+    Or hang 'neath hills where suns so sweetly smil'd?
+    Where could such grateful languor o'er Him creep,
+    Or what more soothing murmur lull to sleep?
+    Where could He reign in nook so chaste, so dear,
+    As in this Mother's, Virgin's bosom here?
+    Could He fly hence, and such blest joys decline,
+    And could He help hastening to breast of thine?
+    This balmy bosom's heritage not share,
+    Of such delights so easily made heir?
+    Nay, Lady, nay; thy loud complainings stay;
+    Be cheer'd: this is no Love that flies away.      R. WI.
+
+
+APOCALYPSE XII. 7.
+
+    Arma, viri! aetheriam quocunque sub ordine pubem
+      Siderei proceres ducitis; arma, viri!
+    Quaeque suis, nec queis solita est, stet dextra sagittis;
+      Stet gladii saeva luce corusca sui.
+    Totus adest, totisque movet se major in iris,
+      Fertque Draco, quicquid vel Draco ferre potest.
+    Quas secum facies, imae mala pignora noctis;
+      Quot secum nigros ducit in arma deos.
+    Jam pugnas parat, heu saevus! jam pugnat, et ecce,
+      Vix potui 'Pugnat' dicere, jam cecidit.
+    His tamen ah nimium est quod frontibus addidit iras;
+      Quod potuit rugas his posuisse genis.
+    Hoc torvum decus est, tumidique ferocia fati,
+      Quod magni sceleris mors quoque magna fuit.
+    Quod neque, si victus, jaceat victoria vilis;
+      Quod meruit multi fulminis esse labor;
+    Quod queat ille suas hoc inter dicere flammas:
+      'Arma tuli frustra: sed tamen arma tuli.'
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WAR IN HEAVEN.
+
+Rev. xii. 7.
+
+    To arms, ye starry chieftains all, who lead
+    The youth of heaven to war--to arms, with speed!
+    Let each right-hand its untried arrows grasp,
+    Or its own fiercely-gleaming falchion clasp.
+    _He_ is _all_ here, and mightier in his wrath,
+    The Dragon brings all powers the Dragon hath:
+    Strange forms, curst children of the deepest Night--
+    What dusky gods he marshals to the fight!
+    Now he makes ready, fights now, fierce as hell!
+    Scarce could I say 'He fights,' when, lo, he fell.
+    Ah, 'twas too much to scar with wrath these faces,
+    And leave on angel-cheeks such furrow'd traces.
+    'Tis his grim boast and proudly-swelling fate,
+    That of a great crime e'en the end was great:
+    If vanquish'd, that 'twas no mean victory;
+    Much bolt�d thunder there requir'd to be;
+    That with these words his fiery pains he charms:
+    'Arms I bore vainly; but I did bear arms.'        R. WI.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    See our Essay, as before, for relation of this poem to the Sospetto
+    d' Herode, and others. G.
+
+
+NON ACCIPIMUS BREVEM VITAM,
+
+SED FACIMUS.
+
+    Ergo tu luges nimium citatam
+    Circulo vitam properante volvi?
+    Tu Deos parcos gemis, ipse cum sis
+                        Prodigus aevi?
+    Ipse quod perdis, quereris perire?
+    Ipse tu pellis, sed et ire ploras?
+    Vita num servit tibi? servus ipse
+                        Cedet abactus.
+    Est fugax vitae, fateor, fluentum:
+    Prona sed clivum modo det voluptas,
+    Amne proclivi magis, et fugace
+                        Labitur unda.
+    Fur Sopor magnam hinc, oculos recludens,
+    Surripit partem, ruit inde partem
+    Temporis magnam spolium reportans
+                        Latro voluptas.
+    Tu creas mortes tibi mille, et aeva
+    Plura quo perdas, tibi plura poscis......
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WE DO NOT RECEIVE, BUT MAKE, A SHORT LIFE.
+
+    Dost thou lament that life, urg'd-on too quickly,
+    Rolls round its course in hasting revolution?
+    Dost blame the thrifty gods, when thou thyself art
+                        Lavish of lifetime?
+    What thyself wastest, mourn'st thou if it perish?
+    Dost drive it from thee, but deplore it going?
+    Is life thy servant? Sooth, a very servant
+                        Turn'd off departeth.
+    Life's stream is fleeting--I confess it--always;
+    But once let Pleasure yield an easy incline,
+    With headlong wave and with more fleeting current
+                        Onward it glideth.
+    Sleep, the thief, closing drowsy eyelids, snatcheth
+    One mighty portion; while as large a portion
+    Pleasure, the robber, carries off unchalleng'd--
+                        Time's precious gold-dust.
+    Thou for thyself a thousand deaths createst;
+    And the more lifetimes thou dost spend in folly,
+    So many more in lieu of them demandest;
+                        Wasting and wanting.          R. WI.
+
+
+DE SANGUINE MARTYRUM.
+
+    Felices, properatis io, properatis, et altam
+      Vicistis gyro sub breviore viam.
+    Vos per non magnum vestri mare sanguinis illuc
+      Cymba tulit nimiis non operosa notis,
+    Quo nos tam lento sub remigio luctantes
+      Ducit inexhausti vis male fida freti.
+    Nos mora, nos longi consumit inertia lethi;
+      In ludum mortis luxuriemque sumus.
+    Nos aevo et senio et latis permittimur undis;
+      Spargimur in casus, porrigimur furiis.
+    Nos miseri sumus ex amplo spatioque perimus;
+      In nos inquirunt fata, probantque manus;
+    Ingenium fati sumus, ambitioque malorum.
+      Conatus mortis consiliumque sumus.
+    In vitae multo multae patet area mortis[95]
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Non vitam nobis numerant, quot viximus anni:
+      Vita brevis nostra est; sit licet acta diu.
+    Vivere non longum est, quod longam ducere vitam:
+      Res longa in vita saepe peracta brevi est.
+    Nec vos tam vitae Deus in compendia misit,
+      Quam vetuit vestrae plus licuisse neci.
+    Accedit vitae quicquid decerpitur aevo,
+      Atque illo brevius, quo citius morimur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+MARTYRS.
+
+    Good speed ye made, in sooth, good speed, ye blest,
+    And by a shorter course won heavenly rest;
+    Over a narrow sea of your own blood
+    Death's bark has borne you, by few gales withstood:
+    While with slow oars we toil the shore to gain,
+    Through boisterous fury of the boundless main.
+    _We_ waste with lingering, indolent decay;
+    We are Death's pastime and his wanton play;
+    O'er time and age and wide waves we are blown,
+    Expos'd to furies and to chances thrown.
+    Wretched in full are we, perish at length;
+    Fates seek us out, and try on us their strength.
+    We are Fate's skill, Evils' ambition fine,
+    Death's utmost effort and deep-plann'd design.
+    In a long life wide field for Death there lies;
+    In a short life grand deeds may daze men's eyes.[96]
+    By years we live we reckon not our life;
+    Our life is short, with great deeds be it rife.
+    To spend long years, let not long life be thought;
+    A long-liv'd deed oft in short life is wrought.
+    God not so much contracted your life's space,
+    As order'd Death the sooner to give place.
+    What earth's life loses, gains the life on high:
+    By how much sooner, so much less we die.          R. WI.
+
+
+SPES.
+
+    Spes diva, salve! diva avidam tuo
+    Necessitatem numine prorogans,
+      Vindicta fortunae furentis,
+        Una salus mediis ruinis.
+    Regina quamvis, tu solium facis
+    Depressa parvi tecta tugurii;
+      Surgit jacentes inter; illic
+        Firma magis tua regna constant.
+    Cantus catenis, carmina carcere,
+    Dolore ab ipso gaudiaque exprimis:
+      Scintilla tu vivis sub imo
+        Pectoris, haud metuens procellas.
+    Tu regna servis, copia pauperi,
+    Victis triumphus, littora naufrago,
+      Ipsisque damnatis patrona,
+        Anchora sub medio profundo.
+    Quin ipse alumnus sum tuus, ubere
+    Pendens ab isto, et hinc animam traho.
+      O Diva nutrix, � foventes
+        Pande sinus, sitiens laboro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+HOPE.
+
+        Hail, goddess Hope!
+    Who Fate remorseless movest
+    Far off, and canst with raging Fortune cope;
+    'Mid ruin thou our sole salvation provest.
+        A mighty queen,
+    Thy throne on roof-trees lowly
+    And prostrate souls is fix'd, and there are seen
+    The firm foundations of thy kingdom holy.
+        A gladsome hymn
+    From fetters disengaging,
+    And joy from grief, thou liv'st in bosom dim,
+    A spark that laughs at tempests wildly raging.
+        A crown to slaves;
+    Abundance to the needy;
+    To shipwreck'd men a refuge from the waves;
+    To conquer'd and condemn'd deliverance speedy.
+        An 'Anchor sure,'
+    The eternal Rock thou graspest,
+    The strain of ocean 'stedfast' to endure;
+    And Heaven's calm joys 'within the veil' thou claspest.
+        Nay, I thy child,
+    Dependent here adore thee:
+    From thee I draw my life, O Mother mild;
+    Open thy fostering bosom, I implore thee.         R. WI.
+
+
+{EIS TON TOU STEPHANOU STEPHANON}.
+
+    Ecce tuos lapides! nihil est pretiosius illis;
+      Seu pretium capiti dent, capiantve tuo.
+    Scilicet haec ratio vestri diadematis: hoc est,
+      Unde coronatis vos decet ire comis.
+    Quisque lapis quanto magis in se vilis habetur,
+      Ditior hoc capiti est gemma futura tuo.
+    Haec est, quae sacra didicit florere figura,
+      Non nisi per lacrymas charta videnda tuas.
+    Scilicet ah dices, haec cum spectaveris ora,
+      Ora sacer sic, � sic tulit ille pater.
+    Sperabis solitas illinc, pia fulmina, voces;
+      Sanctaque tam dulci mella venire via.
+    Sic erat illa, suas Famae cum traderet alas,
+      Ad calamum, dices, sic erat illa manus.
+    Tale erat et pectus, celsae domus ardua mentis,
+      Tale suo plenum sidere pectus erat.
+    O bene fallacis mendacia pulchra tabellae,
+      Et qui tam simili vivit in aere, labor!
+    Cum tu tot chartis vitam, Pater alme, dedisti,
+      Haec merito vitam charta dat una tibi.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON STEPHEN'S CROWN.
+
+    [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.']
+
+    Behold thy stones! more precious nought is seen,
+    Whether they deck with precious rays serene
+    Thy head, or from it take a precious glow.
+    This is your style of diadem; e'en so
+    With crown�d locks 'tis seemly ye should go:
+    The viler in itself each stone may seem,
+    A richer gem upon thy head will gleam.
+    Behold the Book where, seen through mist of tears,
+    A sacred form in manhood's bloom appears.
+    Ah, you will say, when you behold this face,
+    Such looks, O such, our father us'd to grace.
+    The accustom'd sounds you hope for--holy thunder,
+    And the blest honey hid that sweet tongue under:
+    So, o'er his pen, you say, that hand was bent,
+    When her own wings to fetter'd Fame he lent.
+    Such was that breast, his spirit's lofty dwelling--
+    That breast with its own starry thoughts high swelling.
+    O pleasing fantasies of picture fair,
+    And kindred forms which laboured brass may bear!
+    Since through thee, Sire, such countless writings live,
+    Life unto thee let this one writing give.         R. WI.
+
+
+EXPOSTULATIO JESU CHRISTI
+
+CUM MUNDO INGRATO.
+
+    Sum pulcher: at nemo tamem me diligit.
+    Sum nobilis: nemo est mihi qui serviat.
+    Sum dives: a me nemo quicquam postulat.
+    Et cuncta possum: nemo me tamen timet.
+    Aeternus exsto: quaeror a paucissimis.
+    Prudensque sum: sed me quis est qui consulit?
+    Et sum Via: at per me quotusquisque ambulat?
+    Sum Veritas: quare mihi non creditur?
+    Sum Vita: verum rarus est qui me petit.
+    Sum Vera Lux: videre me nemo cupit.
+    Sum misericors: nullus fidem in me collocat.
+    Tu, si peris, non id mihi imputes, homo:
+    Salus tibi est a me parata: hac utere.[97]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+JESUS CHRIST'S EXPOSTULATION
+
+WITH AN UNGRATEFUL WORLD.
+
+    I am all-fair, yet no one loveth Me:
+    Noble, yet no one would My servant be:
+    Rich, yet no suppliant at My gate appears:
+    Almighty, yet before Me no one fears:
+    Eternal, I by very few am sought:
+    Wise am I, yet My counsel goes for nought:
+    I am the Way, yet by Me walks scarce one:
+    The Truth, why am I not relied upon?
+    The Life, yet seldom one My help requires:
+    The True Light, yet to see Me none desires:
+    And I am merciful, yet none is known
+    To place his confidence in Me alone.
+    Man, if thou perish, 'tis that thou dost choose it;
+    Salvation I have wrought for thee, O use it!      R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+I.
+
+FROM 'STEPS TO THE TEMPLE' AND 'DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES,' ETC.
+
+1646-1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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).
+
+    These Poems I have arranged under two classes: (_a_) Miscellaneous,
+    really, not merely formally, poetry: (_b_) 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.
+
+    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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+BULLA.
+
+
+    Quid tibi vana suos offert mea Bulla tumores?
+      Quid facit ad vestrum pondus inane meum?
+    Expectat nostros humeros toga fortior. Ista
+      En mea Bulla, lares en tua dextra mei.
+        Quid tu? quae nova machina,                             5
+        Quae tam fortuito globo
+        In vitam properas brevem?
+        Qualis virgineos adhuc
+        Cypris concutiens sinus,
+        Cypris jam nova, jam recens,                           10
+        Et spumis media in suis,
+        Promsit purpureum latus;
+        Concha de patria micas,
+        Pulchroque exsilis impetu;
+        Statim et millibus ebria                               15
+        Ducens terga coloribus
+        Evolvis tumidos sinus
+        Sphaera plena volubili.
+        Cujus per varium latus,
+        Cujus per teretem globum                               20
+        Iris lubrica cursitans
+        Centum per species vagas,
+        Et picti facies chori
+        Circum regnat, et undique,
+        Et se Diva volatilis                                   25
+        Jucundo levis impetu
+        Et vertigine perfida
+        Lasciva sequitur fuga,
+        Et pulchre dubitat; fluit
+        Tam fallax toties novis,                               30
+        Tot se per reduces vias,
+        Erroresque reciprocos
+        Spargit vena coloribus;
+        Et pompa natat ebria.
+        Tali militia micans                                    35
+        Agmen se rude dividit;
+        Campis quippe volantibus,
+        Et campi levis aequore
+        Ordo insanus obambulans
+        Passim se fugit, et fugat.                             40
+        Passim perdit, et invenit.
+        Pulchrum spargitur hic Chaos.
+        Hic viva, hic vaga flumina
+        Ripa non propria meant,
+        Sed miscent socias vias,                               45
+        Communique sub alveo
+        Stipant delicias suas.
+        Quarum proximitas vaga
+        Tam discrimine lubrico,
+        Tam subtilibus arguit                                  50
+        Juncturam tenuem notis,
+        Pompa ut florida nullibi
+        Sinceras habeat vias;
+        Nec vultu niteat suo.
+        Sed dulcis cumulus novos                               55
+        Miscens purpureus sinus
+        Flagrant divitiis suis,
+        Privatum renuens jubar.
+        Floris diluvio vagi,
+        Floris sidere publico                                  60
+        Late ver subit aureum,
+        Atque effunditur in suae
+        Vires undique copiae.
+        Nempe omnis quia cernitur,
+        Nullus cernitur hic color,                             65
+        Et vicinia contumax
+        Allidit species vagas.
+        Illic contiguis aquis
+        Marcent pallidulae faces.
+        Unde hic vena tenellulae,                              70
+        Flaminis ebria proximis
+        Discit purpureas vias,
+        Et rubro salit alveo.
+        Ostri sanguineum jubar
+        Lambunt lactea flumina;                                75
+        Suasu caerulei maris
+        Mansuescit seges aurea;
+        Et lucis faciles genae
+        Vanas ad nebulas stupent;
+        Subque uvis rubicundulis                               80
+        Flagrant sobria lilia;
+        Vicinis adeo rosis
+        Vicinae invigilant nives;
+        Ut sint et niveae rosae,
+        Ut sunt et roseae nives,                               85
+        Accenduntque rosae nives,
+        Extinguuntque nives rosas.
+        Illic cum viridi rubet,
+        Hic et cum rutile viret,
+        Lascivi facies chori.                                  90
+        Et quicquid rota lubrica
+        Caudae stelligerae notat,
+        Pulchrum pergit et in ambitum.
+        Hic coeli implicitus labor,
+        Orbes orbibus obvii;                                   95
+        ex velleris aurei,
+        Grex pellucidus aetheris;
+        Qui noctis nigra pascua
+        Puris morsibus atterit;
+        Hic quicquid nitidum et vagum                         100
+        Coeli vibrat arenula,
+        Dulci pingitur in joco;
+        Hic mundus tener impedit
+        Sese amplexibus in suis.
+        Succinctique sinu globi                               105
+        Errat per proprium decus.
+        Hic nictant subitae faces,
+        Et ludunt tremulum diem,
+        Mox se surripiunt sui et
+        Quaerunt tecta supercili,                             110
+        Atque abdunt petulans jubar,
+        Subsiduntque proterviter.
+        Atque haec omnia quam brevis
+        Sunt mendacia machinae!
+        Currunt scilicet omnia                                115
+        Sphaera, non vitrea quidem--
+        Ut quondam Siculus globus--
+        Sed vitro nitida magis,
+        Sed vitro fragili magis,
+        Et vitro vitrea magis.                                120
+          Sum venti ingenium breve,
+        Flos sum, scilicet, a�ris,
+        Sidus scilicet aequoris;
+        Naturae jocus aureus,
+        Naturae vaga fabula,                                  125
+        Naturae breve somnium.
+        Nugarum decus et dolor;
+        Dulcis doctaque vanitas.
+        Aurae filia perfidae;
+        Et risus facilis parens.                              130
+        Tantum gutta superbior,
+        Fortunatius et lutum.
+          Sum fluxae pretium spei;
+        Una ex Hesperidum insulis.
+        Formae pyxis, amantium                                135
+        Clare caecus ocellulus;
+        Vanae et cor leve gloriae.
+          Sum caecae speculum Deae,
+        Sum Fortunae ego tessera,
+        Quam dat militibus suis;                              140
+        Sum Fortunae ego symbolum,
+        Quo sancit fragilem fidem
+        Cum mortalibus ebriis,
+        Obsignatque tabellulas.
+          Sum blandum, petulans, vagum,                       145
+        Pulchrum, purpureum, et decens,
+        Comptum, floridulum, et recens,
+        Distinctum nivibus, rosis,
+        Undis, ignibus, aere,
+        Pictum, gemmeum, et aureum,                           150
+        O sum, scilicet, � NIHIL.
+    Si piget, et longam traxisse in taedia pompam
+      Vivax, et nimium Bulla videtur anus:
+    Tolle tuos oculos pensum leve defluet, illam
+      Parca metet facili non operosa manu.                    155
+    Vixit adhuc. Cur vixit? adhuc tu nempe legebas.
+      Nempe fuit tempus tum potuisse mori?
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    A collation of the 'Bulla' with the Tanner MS. 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.     G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. THE BUBBLE. [TO REV. DR. LANY.]
+
+    What art thou? What new device,
+    Globe, chance-fashion'd in a trice,
+    Into brief existence bounding,
+    Perfectly thy circle rounding?
+    As when Cypris, her breast smiting--
+    Virgin still, all love inviting--
+    Cypris in young loveliness
+    Couch'd rosy where the white waves press
+    Her to bear and her to bless;
+    _So_ forth from thy native shell
+    Gleamest thou ineffable!
+    Springing up with graceful bound
+    And describing dainty round;
+    Thousand colours come and go
+    As thou dost thy fair curves show,
+    Swelling out--a whirling ball
+    Meet for Fairy-Festival;
+    Through whose sides of shifting hue,
+    Through whose smooth-turn'd globe, we view
+    Iris' gliding rainbow sitting,
+    In a hundred forms soft-flitting:
+    And semblance of a troop displaying,
+    All around dominion swaying:
+    And the Goddess volatile
+    With witching step and luring smile
+    Follows still with twinkling foot
+    In link'd mazes involute:
+    With many a sight-deceiving turn
+    And flight which makes pursuers burn,
+    And a graceful hesitation--
+    Only treacherous simulation:
+    JUST SO, and no less deceiving,
+    Our BUBBLE, all its colours weaving,
+    Follows ever-varying courses,
+    Or in air itself disperses:
+    Here now, there now, coming, going,
+    Wand'ring as if ebbing, flowing:
+    Sporting Passion's colours all
+    In ways that are bacchanal;
+    And the GLOBES undisciplin'd
+    As though driven by the wind,
+    Borne along the fleeting plains
+    Light as air; nor order reigns--
+    But the heaven-possess'd array
+    Moving each in its own way,
+    Hither now and thither flying,
+    Glancing, wavering, and dying,
+    Losing still their path and finding,
+    In a random inter-winding:
+    Rising, falling, on careering,
+    Vis'ble now, now disappearing;
+    Living wand'ring streams outgoing,
+    Ev'n Confusion beauteous showing:
+    Flowing not each in its course,
+    But each to other joining force;
+    Moving in pleasant pastime still
+    In a mutual good-will:
+    And a nearness that's so near
+    You the contact almost fear,
+    Yet so finely drawn to eye
+    In its delicate subtlety
+    That the procession, blossom-fair,
+    Nowhere has direction clear:
+    Nor with their own aspect glance,
+    But in the sweet luxuriance
+    Which skiey influences lend,
+    As in new windings on they trend:
+    Throwing off the stol'n sunlight
+    In a flood of blossoms bright,
+    Scatter'd on the fields of light;
+    Such a brilliancy of bloom
+    As all may share if all will come.
+    Now golden Spring advances lightly,
+    Spreading itself on all sides brightly,
+    Out of its rich and full supply
+    Open-handed, lavishly.
+      Since all colours you discern,
+    No one colour may you learn:
+    All tints melted into one
+    In a sweet confusion,
+    You cannot tell 'tis that or this,
+    So shifting is the loveliness:
+    Gleams as of the peacock's crest,
+    Or such as on dove's neck rest;
+    Opal, edg'd with amethyst,
+    Or the sunset's purpl'd mist,
+    Or the splendour that there lies
+    In a maiden's azure eyes,
+    Kindling in a sweet surprise:
+    Flower-tints, shell-tints, tender-dy'd,
+    Save to curious unespied:
+    Lo, one BUBBLE follows t'other,
+    Differing still from its frail brother,
+    Striking still from change to change
+    With a quick and vivid range.
+    There in the contiguous wave
+    Torches palely-glist'ning lave;
+    Here what delicate love-lights shine!
+    Through them near flames bick'ring shine.
+    Matching flushing of the rose,
+    As the ruddy channel flows:
+    Milky rivers in white tide
+    Lucent, hush, still onwards glide:
+    Purple rivers in high flood--
+    Red as is man's awful blood:
+    Corn-fields smiling goldenly
+    Meet the blue laugh of the sea:
+    Mist-clouds sailing on their way
+    Darken the changeful cheeks of Day:
+    And beneath vine-clusters red
+    Lilies are transfigur�d:
+    Here you mark as 'twere the snows
+    Folding o'er the neighb'ring rose;
+    Snow into blown roses flushing,
+    Roses wearied of their blushing,
+    As the shifting tints embrace,
+    And their course you scarce can trace;
+    Now retiring, now advancing,
+    Now in wanton mazes dancing;
+    Now a flow'ry red appears,
+    Now a purpl'd green careers.
+      All the signs in heaven that burn
+    Where the gliding wheel doth turn,
+    Here in radiant courses go,
+    As though 'twere a heaven below:
+    The sky's mazes involute
+    Circling onward with deft foot,
+    Sphere on heavenly sphere attending,
+    Coming, going, inter-blending:
+    And the gold-fleec'd flocks of air
+    Wand'ring inviolate and fair;
+    Flocks that drink in chaste delight
+    Dewy pastures of the Night,
+    Leaving no trace of foot or bite.
+    Whate'er of change above you note,
+    As these clouds o'er heaven float,
+    Lo, repeated here we see
+    In a sportive mimicry.
+      Here the tiny tender world
+    Within its own brightness furl'd
+    Wavers, as in fairy robe
+    'Twere a belted lin�d globe.
+    Lights as of the breaking Day
+    Tremble with iridescent play,
+    But now swiftly upward going,
+    Evanescent colours showing,
+    In some nook their beams concealing,
+    Nor their wantonness revealing.
+    O, what store of wonders here
+    In this short-liv'd slender SPHERE!
+    For all wonders I have told
+    Are within its GLOBE enroll'd:
+    Not such globe as skill�d he
+    Fashion'd of old in Sicily:
+    Brighter e'en than crystals are,
+    And than crystal frailer far.
+      'I am Spirit of the Wind,
+    For a flitting breath design'd;
+    I am Blossom born of air;
+    I'm of Ocean, guiding Star;
+    I'm a golden sport of Nature,
+    Frolic stamp'd on ev'ry feature:
+    I'm a myth, an idle theme,
+    The brief substance of a dream:
+    Grace and grief of trifles, I
+    Charm--a well-skill'd vanity;
+    Begotten of the treacherous breeze,
+    Parent of absurdities:
+    Yet, a drop or mote, at best,
+    Favour'd more than are the rest.
+    I'm price of Hope that no more is,
+    One of the Hesperides:
+    Beauty's casket, doating eye
+    Of lovers blinded wilfully:
+    The light Spirit of Vanity.
+    I am Fortune's looking-glass,
+    The countersign which she doth pass
+    To her troop of warriors:
+    I'm the oath by which she swears,
+    And wherewith she doth induce
+    Men to trust a fragile truce.
+    Charming, provoking, still astray,
+    Fair and elegant and gay,
+    Trim and fresh and blossom-hu'd;
+    Interchangeably imbu'd
+    With rosy-red and the snow's whiteness,
+    Air and water and fire's brightness:
+    Painted, gemm'd, of golden dye,
+    NOTHING--after all--am I!'
+    If now, O gentle Reader, it appear
+      Irksome my BUBBLE'S chatterings to hear;
+    If on it frowning, 'Words, words, words!' thou say,
+      No more I'll chatter, but at once obey.
+    So, turn thine eye, my Friend, no more give heed;
+      My BUBBLE lives but if thou choose to read.
+    Cease thou to read, and I resign my breath;
+      Cease thou to read, and that will be my death.      G.
+
+
+TRANQUILLITAS ANIMI:
+
+SIMILITUDINE DUCTA AB AVE CAPTIVA, ET CANORA TAMEN.
+
+    Ut cum delicias leves, loquacem
+    Convivam nemoris vagamque musam
+    Observans, dubia viator arte
+    Prendit desuper: horridusve ruris
+    Eversor, male perfido paratu,                               5
+    Heu durus! rapit, atque io triumphans
+    Vadit: protinus et sagace nisu
+    Evolvens digitos, opus tenellum
+    Ducens pollice lenis erudito,
+    Virgarum implicat ordinem severum,                         10
+    Angustam meditans domum volucri.
+    Illa autem, hospitium licet vetustum
+    Mentem solicitet nimis nimisque,
+    Et suetum nemus, hinc opaca mitis
+    Umbrae frigora, et hinc aprica puri                        15
+    Solis fulgura, patriaeque sylvae
+    Nunquam muta quies; ubi illa dudum
+    Totum per nemus, arborem per omnem,
+    Hospes libera liberis querelis
+    Cognatum bene provocabat agmen:                            20
+    Quanquam ipsum nemus arboresque alumnam
+    Implorant profugam, atque amata multum
+    Quaerant murmura lubricumque carmen
+    Blandi gutturis et melos serenum.
+    Illa autem, tamen, illa jam relictae,                      25
+    Simplex! haud meminit domus, nec ultra
+    Sylvas cogitat; at brevi sub antro,
+    Ah penna nimium brevis recisa,
+    Ah ritu vidua sibique sola,
+    Privata heu fidicen! canit, vagoque                        30
+    Exercens querulam domum susurro
+    Fallit vincula, carceremque mulcet;
+    Nec pugnans placidae procax quieti
+    Luctatur gravis, orbe sed reducto
+    Discursu vaga saltitans tenello,                           35
+    Metitur spatia invidae cavernae.
+    Sic in se pia mens reposta, secum
+    Alte tuta sedet, nec ardet extra,
+    Aut ullo solet aestuare fato:
+    Quamvis cuncta tumultuentur, atrae                         40
+    Sortis turbine non movetur illa.
+    Fortunae furias onusque triste
+    Non tergo minus accipit quieto,
+    Quam vectrix Veneris columba blando
+    Admittat juga delicata collo.                              45
+    Torvae si quid inhorruit procellae,
+    Si quid saeviat et minetur, illa
+    Spernit, nescit, et obviis furorem
+    Fallit blanditiis, amatque et ambit
+    Ipsum, quo male vulneratur, ictum.                         50
+    Curas murmure non fatetur ullo;
+    Non lambit lacrymas dolor, nec atrae
+    Mentis nubila frons iniqua prodit.
+    Quod si lacryma pervicax rebelli
+    Erumpit tamen evolatque gutta,                             55
+    Invitis lacrymis, negante luctu,
+    Ludunt perspicui per ora risus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. PEACE OF MIND:[98]
+
+UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A CAPTIVE SONG-BIRD.
+
+    The time of the singing of birds is come;
+    I will away i' the greenwood to roam;
+    I will away; and thou azure-ey'd Muse
+    Deign with thy gifts my mind to suffuse.--
+      So o'erheard I one say, as he withdrew
+    To a fairy scene that well I knew,
+    Light lac'd with shadow, shadow with light,
+    Leaves playing bo-peep from morn unto night.
+      But, ah, what is this? Alas, and alas,
+    A sweet bird flutters upon the grass;
+    Flutters and struggles with quivering wing!
+    Tempted and snar'd--gentle, guileless thing.
+    Vain, vain thy struggles; for, lo, a hand
+    Hollow'd above, makes thee captive stand.
+      Home hies the Captor, loud singing his joy;
+    He has got a pet song-bird for his boy.
+    Now twining and twisting, a cage he makes
+    Wire-wrought and fast'n'd. Ah, my heart aches!
+    It is a prison, for the poor bird prepar'd;
+    Shut close and netted, netted and barr'd.
+      Comes the flutter and gleam of forest-leaves
+    Through the trellis'd window under the eaves;
+    Comes the breath and stir of the vernal wind,
+    Comes the goldening sunshine--to remind
+    Of all that is lost; comes now and again
+    Far off a song from the blading grain;
+    Calling, still calling the Songster to come
+    Back--once more back--to its woodland home.
+      I mark eyelids rise; mark the lifting wing;
+    Mark the swelling throat, as if it would sing;
+    Mark the weary 'chirp, chirp,' like infant's cry,
+    Yearning after the free and boundless sky;
+    For the grand old woods; once more to sit
+    On the swinging bough into blossom smit.
+      Vain, vain, poor bird! thou'rt captive still;
+    Thou must bend thee to thy Captor's will:
+    Thy wing is cut; from thy mate thou'rt taken;
+    All alone thou abidest, sad, forsaken.
+      The days pass on; and I look in once more
+    On the captive bird 'bove the ivied door.
+    Sweetly it sings, as if all by itself,
+    A short, quiet song. O thou silly elf,
+    Hast forgot the greenwood, the forest hoar,
+    The flash of the sky, the wind's soften'd roar?
+    Hast forgot that thou still a captive art,
+    Prison'd in wire-work? hast forgot thy smart?
+      'Tis even so: for now down, and now up,
+    Now hopping on perch, now sipping from cup,
+    I mark it sullen and pining no more,
+    But keeping within, though open the door.
+    List ye, now list--from its swelling throat,
+    Of its woodland song you miss never a note.
+    Alone, it is true, and in a wir'd cage;
+    But kindness has melted the captive's rage.
+      Behold a sweet meaning in this bird's story--
+    How the child of God is ripen'd for glory:
+    For it is thus with the child of God,
+    Smitten and bleeding 'neath His rod:
+    Thus 'tis with him; for, tranquil and calm
+    'Mid dangers and insults, he singeth his psalm:
+    Alone, all alone, deserted of man,
+    Slander'd and trampl'd and plac'd under ban,
+    He frets not, he pines not, he plains not still,
+    But sees clear in all his dear Father's will:
+    Come loss, come cross, come bereavement, come wrong,
+    He sets all to music, turns all to song;
+    Come terror, come trial, come dark day, come bright,
+    Still upward he looks, and knows all is right:
+    Wounded, he sees the Hand gives the stroke,
+    Bending his neck to bear his Lord's yoke,
+    And finds it grow light, by grace from Above,
+    As love's slender collars o' the Queen of Love;
+    Comes the starting tear, 'tis dried with a smile;
+    Comes a cloud, as you look 'tis gone the while;
+    Stirs the 'old Adam' to tempt and to dare,
+    He thinks Who was tempted and knows what we are;
+    Gentle and meek, murmurs not nor rebels,
+    But serene as in heaven and tranquil dwells:
+    And so the Believer has 'songs in the night,'
+    And so every cloud has a lining of light.
+      Thus, even thus, the captive bird's story
+      Tells how a soul is ripen'd for glory.              G.
+
+
+DAMNO AFFICI SAEPE FIT LUCRUM.
+
+    Damna adsunt multis taciti compendia lucri,
+      Felicique docent plus properare mora.
+    Luxuriem annorum posita sic pelle redemit,
+      Atque sagax serpens in nova saecla subit.
+    Cernis ut ipsa sibi replicato suppetat aevo,
+      Seque iteret multa morte perennis avis?
+    Succrescit generosa sibi, facilesque per ignes
+      Perque suos cineres, per sua fata ferax.
+    Quae sollers jactura sui? quis funeris usus?
+      Flammarumque fides ingeniumque rogi?
+    Siccine fraude subis? pretiosaque funera ludis?
+      Siccine tu mortem, ne moriaris, adis?
+    Felix cui medicae tanta experientia mortis,
+      Cui tam Parcarum est officiosa manus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+GAIN OUT OF LOSS.
+
+    Losses are often source of secret gain,
+    Delays good-speed, and ease the child of pain.
+    The subtle snake, laying aside her fears,
+    Casts off her slough, and heals the waste of years.
+    The phoenix thus her waning pride supplies,
+    And, to be ever-living, often dies;
+    Bold for her good, she makes the fires her friend,
+    And to begin anew, will plot her end.
+    What skilful losing! what wise use of dying!
+    What trust in flames! and what a craft in plying
+    That trick of immolation! Canst thou so
+    Compound with griefs? canst wisely undergo
+    Life's losses, crosses? play with gainful doom?
+    Canst, to be quicken'd, gladly seek the tomb?
+    Thrice-happy he thus touch'd with healing sorrow,
+    For whom night's strife plots but a gracious morrow.  A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Suff'ring is not always loss;
+    Often underneath the cross--
+    Heavy, crushing, wearing, slow,
+    Causing us in dread to go--
+    All unsuspected lieth gain,
+    Like sunshine in vernal rain.
+      Lo, the serpent's mottled skin
+    Cast, new lease of years doth win:
+    Lo, the phoenix in the fire
+    Leaps immortal from its pyre,
+    The mystic plumage mewing,
+    And life by death renewing.
+    What a wise loss thus to lose!--
+    Who will gainsay or abuse?
+    What strange end to fun'ral pile,
+    Thus in Death's gaunt face to smile!
+    Faith still strong within the fire,
+    Faith triumphant o'er its ire.
+      How stands it, fellow-man, with thee?
+    What meaning in this myth dost see?
+    Happy thou, if when thou'rt lying
+    On thy sick-bed slow a-dying,
+    Cometh vision of the Eternal,
+    Cometh strength for the supernal,
+    Cometh triumph o'er the infernal;
+    And thou canst the Last Enemy
+    Calmly meet, serenely die;
+    The hard Sisters life's web snipping,
+    But thy spirit never gripping;
+    Good, not evil, to thee bringing;
+    Hushing not thy upward singing,
+    To the Golden City winging.
+      Even so to die is gain,
+    Like the Harvest's tawnied grain:
+    Suffering is not always loss;
+    The Crown succeeds the Cross.                         G.
+
+
+HUMANAE VITAE DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    O vita, tantum lubricus quidam furor
+    Spoliumque vitae! scilicet longi brevis
+    Erroris hospes! Error � mortalium!
+    O certus error! qui sub incerto vagum
+    Suspendit aevum, mille per dolos viae                       5
+    Fugacis, et proterva per volumina
+    Fluidi laboris, ebrios lactat gradus;
+    Et irretitos ducit in nihilum dies.
+    O fata! quantum perfidae vitae fugit
+    Umbris quod imputemus atque auris, ibi                     10
+    Et umbra et aura serias partes agunt
+    Miscentque scenam, volvimur ludibrio
+    Procacis aestus, ut per incertum mare
+    Fragilis protervo cymba cum nutat freto;
+    Et ipsa vitae fila, queis nentes Deae                      15
+    Aevi severa texta producunt manu,
+    Haec ipsa nobis implicant vestigia,
+    Retrahunt trahuntque, donec everso gradu
+    Ruina lassos alta deducat pedes.
+    Felix, fugaces quisquis excipiens dies                     20
+    Gressus serenos fixit, insidiis sui
+    Nec servit aevi, vita inoffensis huic
+    Feretur auris, atque clauda rarius
+    Titubabit hora: vortices anni vagi
+    Hic extricabit, sanus assertor sui.                        25
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE.
+
+    O Life, or but some evanescent madness
+    And glittering spoil of life snatch'd with blind gladness!
+    Of endless Error, transitory guest;
+    Sad human Error, which would fain find rest.
+    O certain Error, 'neath uncertain sky
+    Suspending here our frail mortality;
+    Leading us through a thousand devious ways
+    And intricacies of a treacherous maze!
+    Our staggering footsteps how dost thou beguile
+    Through wanton rounds of unavailing toil,
+    And our entangl'd days to nothing bring!
+    O fates, how much of our poor life takes wing,
+    Wasted on winds and shadows! On life's stage
+    Shadows and winds a serious part engage,
+    The scene confusing. On life's billow tost,
+    The sport of changeful tide, we're well-nigh lost,
+    And, like a frail boat on a stormy sea,
+    We waver up and down uncertainly.
+    Nay, e'en the threads spun by the Fates on high,
+    As with stern fingers they divinely ply
+    The web of life, twine round us as we go,
+    And draw us backwards, forwards, to and fro;
+    Till Ruin trips us up, and we are found
+    Helpless and weary, stretched along the ground.
+      Happy the man who, welcoming each day
+    With smiles that answer to its fleeting ray,
+    Pursues with step serene his purpos'd way;
+    The alluring snares peculiar to the age
+    _His_ soul enslave not, nor his mind engage;
+    His life with peaceful tenor glides along,
+    By fav'ring breezes fann'd, and sooth'd with song;
+    Inspir'd by Heaven with soul-sustaining force,
+    Seldom he falls, or falters in his course;
+    But ever, as the eddying years roll round,
+    Bursting through all the perils that abound,
+    A wise assertor of himself is found.              R. WI.
+
+
+IN PYGMALIONA.
+
+              Poenitet artis
+              Pygmaliona suae,
+    Quod felix opus esset,
+    Infelix erat artifex;
+    Sentit vulnera, nec videt ictum.
+    Quis credit? gelido veniunt de marmore flammae:
+    Marmor ingratum nimis
+    Incendit autorem suum.
+    Concepit hic vanos furores,
+    Opus suum miratur atque adorat.
+    Prius creavit, ecce nunc colit manus;
+    Tentantes digitos molliter applicat;
+    Decipit molles caro dura tactus.
+    An virgo vera est, an sit eburnea;
+    Reddat an oscula quae dabantur,
+    Nescit; sed dubitat, sed metuit, munere supplicat,
+    Blanditiasque miscet.
+    Te, miser, poenas dare vult, hos Venus, hos triumphos
+    Capit a te, quod amorem fugis omnem.
+    Cur fugis heu vivos? mortua te necat puella.
+    Non erit innocua haec, quamvis tua fingas manu;
+    Ipsa heu nocens erit nimis, cujus imago nocet.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON PYGMALION.
+
+      Grief for work his hands have done
+      Harroweth Pygmalion;
+      Happy reach of art! yet he
+      The artificer, unhappily,
+    He feels the wounds: what deals the blow?
+    Can it be true? can flames from gelid marble flow?
+
+      Marble, treacherous and to blame
+      To burn your Sculptor with such flame!
+      What madness in his heart is hid?
+    He wonders at, he adores the work he did.
+      First he made, and next his hand
+      With wandering fingers softly tries
+      The mystery to understand.
+      Ah, surely now the hard flesh lies!
+    Is it a living maiden, see!
+      O treacherous blisses!
+    Is it no marble? can it frail flesh be?
+      Does it return his kisses?
+    He knows not, he.
+
+      He doubts, he fears, he prays; what mean
+    All these sweet blandishments between?
+    Venus, wretched Sculptor, wills
+    You should suffer these sad ills;
+    This is her triumph over you,
+      Because at love your lips would curl;
+    Your will not living overthrows yet this dead girl.
+
+    Weep, ah, weep, Pygmalion!
+      Though you shap'd her with your hands,
+    With your chisel, out of stone,
+      Not innocuous here she stands.
+      O image of a maiden!
+    If you so strangely baneful prove,
+      With what despair will you come laden,
+    Coming alive to claim his love!                       A.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION (_more freely_).
+
+    Pygmalion mourns his own success;
+    Was ever such strange wretchedness?
+    His work itself, a work of Art,
+    Perfect in its every part;
+    But himself? Alas, artist he
+    Of his own utmost misery.
+    He feels his wounds, but who shall tell
+    Whence come the drops that downward steal?
+    Flames leap out from the marble, cold
+    As ice itself by storm-wind roll'd:
+    And he, contriver of that fire,
+    Burns self-immolate on his own pyre;
+    Furies of his own genius born
+    Cast him, adoring and forlorn,
+    Into a strange captivity
+    Before his own hands' work; and he
+    Clings to the shapely form, until,
+    In ecstasy of love a-thrill,
+    He burning lips to cold lips sets,
+    And wild with passion her cheek wets;
+    Strains to his breast insensate stone,
+    As 'twere a breathing thing; with moan,
+    With clasp and grasp and tingling touch,
+    As though he ne'er could grip too much;
+    And wilder'd cry of agony,
+    That she respond would; by him lie
+    A virgin pure as drifted snow,
+    Or lilies that i' the meadows blow.
+    Is it ivory? is it stone?
+    Lives it? or is it clay alone?
+    O that to flesh the stone would melt,
+    And show a soul within it dwelt!
+      He looks, he yearns, he sighs, he sobs,
+    Convulsive his whole body throbs;
+    He doubts, he fears, he supplicates
+    With wistful gaze; he on her waits;
+    Gifts lavish he lays at her feet,
+    And, stung to passion, will entreat,
+    As though the image he has made
+    Were thing of life he might persuade--
+    Persuade and woo, and on her stake
+    His future, all. O sad mistake!
+    For thee, Pygmalion, Venus sends
+    These triumphs which thy chisel lends,
+    To punish thee, for that no love
+    Erewhile thy obstinate heart might move.
+      Why flee'st thou the living, say,
+    When this image thee doth slay?
+    Thee doth--ay, slay! Why dost thou stand
+    Entranc'd before the work o' thy hand,
+    None the less hurtful that it is
+    Thine own genius yields the bliss?
+    Venus must thee still deny;
+    The sculptured maid must breathless lie.              G.
+
+
+ARION.
+
+    Squammea vivae
+    Lubrica terga ratis
+    Jam conscendet Arion.
+    Merces tam nova solvitur
+    Navis quam nova scanditur. Illa
+    A�rea est merces, haec est et aquatica navis.
+    Perdidere illum viri
+    Mercede magna, servat hic
+    Mercede nulla piscis: et sic
+    Salute plus ruina constat illi;
+    Minoris et servatur hinc quam perditur.
+    Hic dum findit aquas, findit hic a�ra:
+    Cursibus, piscis; digitis, Arion:
+    Et sternit undas, sternit et a�ra:
+    Carminis hoc placido Tridente
+    Abjurat sua jam murmura, ventusque modestior
+    Auribus ora mutat:
+    Ora dediscit, minimos et metuit susurros;
+    Sonus alter restat, ut fit sonus illis
+    Aura strepens circum muta sit lateri adjacente penna,
+    Ambit et ora viri, nec vela ventis hic egent;
+    Attendit hanc ventus ratem: non trahit, at trahitur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ARION.
+
+    Never since ship was set a-float
+    Have men seen so strange a boat:
+    Alive it is from deck to keel,
+    Having the gray gleam of steel;
+    Slippery as wave-wash'd wreck,
+    Or as a war-ship's bloody deck.
+    A Dolphin, lo, its huge back bending,
+    Safety to Arion lending
+    From the sailors of Sicily,
+    Covetous of his golden monie;
+    Money that as prize he had won
+    Before all Singers aneath the sun;
+    Playing and singing so famouslie,
+    Singing and playing so wondrouslie,
+    That there went up from ev'ry throat
+    The verdict, 'for Arion I vote:'
+    Vote the prize; and gifts as well,
+    Crowns of gold and of asphodel;
+    Lyres all a-glow with gems,
+    Robes bejewell'd to their hems;
+    A thousand golden pieces and one
+    For the gifted son of Poseidon:
+    And, hark, as 'twere the bellowing thunder,
+    In clang'rous shouts men tell their wonder.
+      Arion now homeward takes his way
+    In a fair ship steer'd for Corinth Bay;
+    Proud of his prizes, proud of his skill,
+    Proud that soon Periander will
+    Welcome him fondly, and call him friend,
+    With words such as no money can send.
+      Alas and alas, such crime to tell!
+    The ship-captain and sailors fell
+    Covet his gold, and have it must,
+    Though Arion they murder by blow or thrust.
+      But Apollo at midnight hour
+    Sendeth a dream in mystic power;
+    It showeth the men, it showeth their crime.
+    Arion awakes with the morning's chime;
+    Awakes, and planneth how to escape.
+    Vain, vain all; on him they gape,
+    Thirsting alike for gold and life,
+    Murder and covetousness at strife.
+      'Suffer me, then,' Arion said,
+    'That I may play as I have play'd;
+    Here is my poor Lyre, and, ere I die,
+    Let me prove its minstrelsy.'
+      He has donn'd him now in gay attire,
+    Festal robes; in his hand his Lyre.
+    List ye, list ye; above, below,
+    Sounds such as only the angels know;
+    Sounds that are born of rapture and bliss,
+    Of the throbbing heart and the burning love-kiss.
+    Now it is soft, pathetic, low,
+    Then 'gins to change to cry of woe;
+    Now it comes rushing as if the thunder
+    Came booming from the deep earth under;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing,
+    And Arion's hand had so cunning a spell
+    As should win all heaven--ay and hell.
+    O, came there never such melodie
+    From mortal earth or mortal sky.
+    He mounted to the good ship's prow,
+    And mingling with his song a vow
+    To the gods, he himself threw
+    Out 'mid the waves from that damnable crew.
+      Up through the waves the Dolphins bound,
+    A hundred bended backs are found,
+    Each one more eager than the rest
+    To upbear the sweet Player on Ocean's breast.
+      Arion ascends; and, lo, he stands,
+    His Lyre unwet within his hands:
+    Onward and onward careering they go;
+    O soft and true the notes that flow!
+    Rising, falling, swelling, dying,
+    Near and nearer, far-off flying;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing.
+      New is the ship, as new the freight;
+    The Dolphin feels never the weight;
+    New is the ship, and new the fare,
+    That of the water, this of the air:
+    The sailors in their greed him lost,
+    The Dolphin bears him withouten cost.
+      Away and away with a shim'ring track
+    Arion goes on the Dolphin's back;
+    Away and away, still softly playing,
+    Each string his lightest touch obeying.
+    Under the spell the Sea grows calm,
+    Listing attent his witching psalm;
+    Under the spell the air grows mild,
+    Breathing soft as sleeping child.
+        But who may seek all the tale to tell?
+        It is a tale unspeakable.
+      Onward and onward careering they go,
+    Silence above and silence below:
+    The Storm-gale shuts its mouth and lists,
+    The Wind folds its pinions and desists,
+    Following, not blowing, drawing not, but drawn,
+    From early ev'ning to breaking dawn.
+    Tenarus at last Arion beheld;
+    Tenarus, his own dear home that held;
+    And as together they swiftly come,
+    He claps hands loud and thinks of home.
+      The Dolphin seeks a quiet cove;
+    The Dolphin arching its back above
+    The azure waters, leaves him there,
+    A-list'ning still his Lyre to hear.
+      Homeward to Corinth Arion proceeds:
+    Periander a tale of suff'ring reads
+    In the thinn�d cheek and the dreamy eye,
+    In the tremulous words and the laden sigh.
+      The story is told. O story of wrong!
+    The ship returns; and it is not long
+    Ere captain and crew, at bar arraign'd,
+    Must tell where Arion they detain'd.
+    'He tarries,' quoth they, 'in Sicily,
+    Winning all men by his minstrelsie.'
+      Lies were proven in their throat.
+    Periander his hands together smote,
+    Swearing a solemn oath that they--
+    One, all--should drown'd be in the Bay.
+      Tied hand and foot, pallor'd and grim,
+    'Tis done as they would ha' done to him.
+    A plunge as of a plunging stone,
+    A few bubbles--Vengeance is done!                  G.
+
+
+
+
+IN
+
+APOLLINEA DEPEREUNTEM DAPHNEN.
+
+
+    Stulte Cupido,
+    Quid tua flamma parat?
+    Annos sole sub ipso
+    Accensae pereunt faces?
+    Sed fax nostra potentior istis,
+    Flammas inflammare potest, ipse uritur ignis,
+    Ecce flammarum potens
+    Majore sub flamma gemit.
+    Eheu, quid hoc est? En Apollo
+    Lyra tacente, ni sonet dolores,
+    Coma jacente squallet aeternus decor
+    Oris, en, dominae quo placeat magis,
+    Languido tardum jubar igne promit.
+    Pallente vultu territat aethera.
+    Mundi oculus lacrymis senescit,
+    Et solvit pelago debita, quodque hauserat ignibus,
+    His lacrymis rependit.
+    Noctis adventu properans se latebris recondit,
+    Et opacas tenebrarum colit umbras,
+    Namque suos odit damnans radios nocensque lumen.
+    An lateat tenebris dubitat, an educat diem,
+    Hinc suadet hoc luctus furens, inde repugnat amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ON APOLLO PINING FOR DAPHNE.
+
+    Cupid, foolishest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets!
+    Surely before the flashing Sun
+    Torches pale to extinction?
+    But our torch is mightier far;
+    It able is 'gainst fire to war,
+    Yea, fire itself to burn and char.
+      The igni-potent in amaze,
+    Lo, groans, his huge heart all a-blaze
+    With keener flame than his own rays.
+      Ah, what is this? Apollo burns,
+    And as distraught in anguish mourns.
+    Lo, see his lyre mute and unstrung,
+    Or only grief-notes from it wrung:
+    Lo, his golden locks neglected,
+    And his radiant face dejected;
+    Beauty eterne distain'd, rejected.
+      The great Sun-god is in love,
+    And seeks in vain his Fair to move:
+    Hence his weird pallor, and those cries
+    That the sky shudd'ring terrifies;
+    Hence the world's day-bringing eye
+    Tears dim, such as in mortals' lie;
+    Hence those showers often falling,
+    The Sea her erst gifts recalling;
+    Hence welcome the approaching night,
+    That mourning he may veil his light--
+    Veil his light, and in shadows deep
+    His great anguish in secret weep.
+    Nor, when vermeil-drap�d Morning,
+    With her smile the East adorning,
+    Touches with her rosy finger
+    Eyes that 'neath their lashes linger,
+    Seeking to wake the God of Day,
+    That round the world his beams may play,
+    Does he haste at all to rise
+    To his 'fulgent throne i' the skies;
+    But rather would abide within
+    The clouds whereon he rests his chin;
+    Hating his own beams' splendour now,
+    Since Daphne scorns to list his vow:
+    Thus he lingers, and still weighs
+    Whether Day or Night to raise.
+    Raging grief he cannot smother,
+    Says the one; and Love the other.
+    Cupid, tricksiest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets![99]             G.
+
+
+
+
+AENEAS PATRIS SUI BAJULUS.
+
+
+    Moenia Trojae, hostis et ignis,
+    Hostes inter et ignes, Aeneas spolium pium
+    Atque humeris venerabile pondus
+    Excipit, et 'Saevae nunc � nunc parcite flammae;
+    Parcite haud, clamat, mihi;
+    Sacrae favete sarcinae:
+    Quod si negatis, nec licebit
+    Vitam juvare, sed juvabo funus
+    Rogusque fiam patris ac bustum mei.'
+    His dictis, acies pervolat hostium,
+    Gestit, et partis veluti trophaeis
+    Ducit triumphos. Nam furor hostium
+    Jam stupet, et pietate tanta
+    Victor vincitur; imo et moritur
+    Troja libenter, funeribusque gaudet,
+    Ac faces admittit ovans, ne lateat tenebras
+    Per opacas opus ingens pietatis.
+    Debita sic patri solvis tua, sic pari rependis
+    Officio. Dederat vitam tibi, tu reddis huic:
+    Felix, parentis qui pater diceris esse tui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+�NEAS THE BEARER OF HIS FATHER.
+
+    The walls of Troy--the walls of Troy!
+    'Tis an old tale you will enjoy:
+    A foe is there amid the fire,
+    A foe 'twixt foemen in their ire.
+      Aeneas takes a pious load
+    With upward prayer to his god;
+    E'en his old father, whose gray head
+    Lay 'mong the dying and the dead:
+    O venerable spoil in truth,
+    Fit from the demons to fetch ruth.
+      Fierce roar the flames, and fiercer still
+    Rages the fight on plain and hill.
+    'Spare the old man,' Aeneas cries;
+    'Spare the white hairs; or if he dies,
+    Be mine the privilege of his pyre;
+    Be mine with him at once t'expire.'
+      Scarcely are the true words spoken,
+    When through line of battle broken
+    Swift he passes; and this brave son
+    His father bears in triumph on;
+    Reck'ning that he a trophy has
+    That the conquerors' doth surpass.
+      He safely goes: for, lo, amaz'd,
+    The foe upon them wistful gaz'd:
+    The conquerors the conquer'd are
+    By filial love so strong, so fair.
+    The flames Troy willingly receives,
+    Jubilant that the old man lives;
+    Welcomes the torches, that the night
+    May not conceal this deed of light.
+      All praise to thee, high-hearted son!
+    Thou an undying name hast won:
+    The debt of love thou hast repaid
+    Unto thy father, who is made
+    Thy debtor now; for life he gave,
+    And thou in turn his life dost save.
+    Happy the son whom thus we see
+    Father of his own sire to be.                  G.
+
+
+PHOENICIS GENETHLIACON ET EPICEDION.
+
+    Phoenix alumna mortis,
+    Quam mira tua puerpera!
+    Tu scandis haud nidos, sed ignes.
+    Non parere sed perire ceu parata:
+    Mors obstetrix; atque ipsa tu teipsam paris,
+          Tu tuique mater ipsa es,
+          Tu tuique filia.
+    Tu sic odora messis
+    Surgis tuorum funerum;
+    Tibique per tuam ruinam
+    Reparata, te succedis ipsa. Mors �
+    Faecunda; sancta � lucra pretiosae necis!
+          Vive, monstrum dulce, vive,
+          Tu tibique suffice.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE GENERATION AND REGENERATION OF THE PHOENIX.
+
+    Phoenix, nursling of Death,
+      How wondrous is thy birth!
+    Thou gainest not thy breath
+      I' nest, like birds of Earth:
+    'Mid fire all flaming hot
+    Thou strangely art begot;
+    The leaping flames thee cherish
+    When thou seem'st to perish.
+      Lo, Death thy midwife is;
+      Lo, thyself thou bearest.
+    O tell me how is this,
+      That mystery thou preparest?
+    Thou mother of thyself!
+    Thou daughter of thyself!
+    When thy 'pointed hour is done,
+      Thou an od'rous nest entwinest;
+    And, as for thy destruction,
+    Thou 'midst its fires reclinest.
+      Most surely thou'rt consum'd;
+      Most surely thou'rt relum'd.
+    O fruitful Death!
+    O gainful Death!
+    Live then, self-contain�d bird;
+      Most pleasing wonder.
+    The old legend is absurd;
+      But truth lies under.                               G.
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM.
+
+    Quisquis nectareo serenus aevo
+    Et spe lucidus aureae juventae,
+    Nescis purpureos abire soles,
+    Nescis vincula ferreamque noctem
+    Imi careris horridumque Ditem,                              5
+    Et spectas tremulam procul senectam,
+    Hinc disces lacrymas, et huc repones.
+    Hic, � scilicet hic brevi sub antro
+    Spes et gaudia mille, mille, longam,
+    Heu longam nimis! induere noctem.                          10
+    Flammantem nitidae facem juventae
+    Submersit Stygiae paludis unda.
+    Ergo, si lacrymas neges doloris,
+    Huc certo lacrymas feres timoris.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    I correct, in l. 6, 'tremulam' for 'tremulum;' l. 7, 'disces' for
+    'discas,' and 'huc' for 'hinc.' G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH.
+
+    Ye that still, serene in peace,
+    Lying in the lap of ease,
+    Believe the hopes of golden youth,
+    And have not heard the bitter truth,
+    How shining suns fade at a breath;
+    Ye, with little dread of death,
+    Or fear of chains and iron night
+    Of man's last prison, or the sight
+    Of gloomy Dis; that think to keep
+    Old age away,--look here, and weep.
+    Here, to this one narrow room,
+    A thousand joys and hopes have come;
+    Here bright minutes many a one
+    Have a lasting night put on:
+    Youth's torch, that flash'd such light about,
+    Is in the Stygian wave put out.
+    Then, if you grudge poor grief a tear,
+    Heave, at least, a sigh for fear.                     A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Whoe'er ye be, upgazing here,
+    Calm, unruffl'd, without tear;
+    Joyous in your golden prime,
+    And unwitting of the time
+    When shall pale Life's glowing sun,
+    And the web of years be spun;
+    Thinking not o' the iron night
+    Where grim Pluto reigns in might;
+    Thinking not of the nether world,
+          With its clanking chains;
+    Whither damn�d souls are hurl'd
+          When the Judge arraigns;
+        Seeing old age far away;
+    Making Life one holiday;--
+    Here perceive that Grief shall yet
+    Your ruddy cheeks with sorrow wet;
+    Here musing upon this poor stone,
+    Ye may learn prevention.
+    This Earth, what is it but a home
+    Fugitive as sea-wave's foam?
+    Mark where breaks the whit'n'd wave
+    'Mid the cliffs--an arch�d cave;
+    Light and shadow play within,
+          Flick'ring o'er its walls;
+    In the gloom--with Hell akin--
+          A dull stream slowly crawls.
+        E'en such is Life, how bright soe'er,
+    Hope and Joy lure to Despair;
+    And Life's stream goes plunging down
+    Into dark drear Acheron;
+    Youth's bright torch extinguish'd quite;
+    Golden Day exchang'd for Night:
+    To long night of changeless woe
+    Swift the Christless souls shall go.
+    Shun not therefore in thy prime,
+    Shun not whilst thou art in Time,
+    Tears of penitence over sin;
+      Or bitterly shalt thou rue,
+    When Death shall fling his javelin,
+      And Hell's prison thee immew.
+    Bethink thee in thy golden prime;
+    Bethink thee whilst thou'rt yet in Time.              G.
+
+
+ELEGIA.[100]
+
+    Ite, meae lacrymae, nec enim moror, ite; sed oro
+      Tantum ne miserae claudite vocis iter.
+    O liceat querulos verbis animare dolores,
+      Et saltem 'Ah periit!' dicere noster amor.
+    Ecce negant tamen; ecce negant, lacrymaeque rebelles
+      Pergunt indomita praecipitantque via.
+    Visne, � care, igitur te nostra silentia dicant?
+      Vis fleat assiduo murmure mutus amor?
+    Flebit, et urna suos semper bibet humida rores,
+      Et fidas semper semper habebit aquas.
+    Interea, quicunque estis, ne credite mirum
+      Si verae lacrymae non didicere loqui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ELEGY.
+
+    Flow, flow, my tears; I stay you not; but pray
+    To my unhappy voice close not the way.
+    My plaintive griefs with words, O let me move;
+    To say, 'Alas, he died!' allow my love.
+    Lo, they say, no--the rebel tears say, no!
+    And with unconquer'd headlong torrent flow.
+    Wouldst thou, O dear one, that our silence speak?
+    Mute love with ceaseless sob moisten our cheek?
+    It shall; and still thine urn drink its own dews,
+    And never its own faithful waters lose.
+    Meanwhile let no one think a wonder wrought,
+    If real tears to speak could not be taught.       R. WI.
+
+
+THESAURUS MALORUM FOEMINA.
+
+    Quis deus, � quis erat, qui te, mala foemina, finxit?
+      Proh, crimen superum, noxa pudenda deum!
+    Quae divum manus est adeo non dextera mundo?
+      In nostras clades ingeniosa manus:
+    Parcite; peccavi: nec enim pia numina possunt
+      Tam crudele semel vel voluisse nefas.
+    Vestrum opus est pietas; opus est concordia vestrum;
+      Vos equidem tales haud reor artifices.
+    Heus, inferna cohors, foetus cognoscite vestros.
+      Num pudet hanc vestrum vincere posse scelus?
+    Plaudite Tartarei proceres Erebique potentes,
+      Nae mirum est tantum vos potuisse malum;
+    Jam vestras laudate manus. Si forte tacetis,
+      Artificum laudes grande loquetur opus.
+    Quam bene vos omnes speculo contemplor in isto?
+      Pectus in angustum cogitur omne malum.
+    Quin dormi, Pluto; rabidas compesce sorores;
+      Jam non poscit opem nostra ruina tuam.
+    Haec satis in nostros fabricata est machina muros,
+      Mortales furias Tartara nostra dabunt.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WOMAN A TREASURY OF EVILS.
+
+    What god? or who was it? I ask, contriv'd
+    Thee, O Woman, evil Woman? who conniv'd
+    Together--who--in this supremest crime
+    Of the divinities, before old Time
+    Was born? Alas, most dire calamity
+    As e'er has come upon humanity!
+    Whence was the hand, ye Powers, so evil-skill'd
+    In sin and mischief, so perversely will'd
+    To curse this world of ours? But hold! I blunder;
+    I must to the dark regions lying under,
+    Ev'n Hell, descend. Not Thee, O God above,
+    For Thou art pitiful, for Thou art Love:
+    Not one of all the gracious Pow'rs supernal;
+    But ye, O Furies, from the pit infernal,
+    Ye, ye the work devis'd, matur'd, achiev'd,
+    And brought to Man; to Man--frail Man! deceiv'd:
+    Ho, hosts of evil! ho! on you I call:
+    Behold your offspring diabolical.
+    Does it a blush raise?--Spirits of evil, speak!--
+    Such as expos'd crime brings to mortal cheek?
+    Lo, these your works yourselves surpass, I wis;
+    Clap hands, ye potentates of the Abyss.
+    Rulers of Erebus, is it not a wonder,
+    Worthy of Hell's most resonant swift thunder,
+    That ye such thing contriv�d have as Heaven
+    Never cast out, nor e'er to Hell was driven?
+    Take ye your praise, your praise; this work o' your hands
+    Absolute in mischief 'bove compar'son stands.
+    Or if ye silent be, your work will speak
+    Your praise. Ha, ha! what mean ye that ye shriek
+    Thus as I meditate with pulse of fear
+    Upon this monster, Woman? Ah, 'tis clear;
+    I see your guile and skill. The gods above
+    Would have all ills within one scant breast move!
+    To bed, Pluto, king of the nether world;
+    Sleep on in peace; be every banner furl'd;
+    Ye fires, go out; Man's ruin is complete;
+    No need of you--in Woman all woes meet:
+    In her, ye devils, ye have so contriv'd
+    That Tempter, who--better than had ye div'd
+    To furthest Tartarus--Man's protecting wall
+    Shall breach. Earth's fury--Woman--passes all!        G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+II.
+
+MISCELLANEOUS AND COMMEMORATIVE.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    Once more the Sancroft MS. 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.
+
+
+PULCHRA NON DIUTURNA.
+
+
+    EHEU, ver breve et invidum!
+    Eheu, floriduli dies!
+    Ergo curritis improba,
+    Et quae nunc face fulgurat,
+    Dulcis forma tenacibus
+    Immiscebitur infimae:
+    Heu, noctis nebulis; amor
+    Fallax, umbraque somnii.
+    Quin incumbitis; invida
+    Sic dictat colus, et rota
+    Cani temporis incito
+    Currens orbe volubilis.
+    O deprendite lubricos
+    Annos; et liquidum jubar
+    Verni sideris, ac novi
+    Floris fulgura, mollibus
+    Quae debetis amoribus,
+    Non impendite luridos
+    In manes avidum et Chaos.
+      Quanquam sidereis genis,
+    Quae semper nive sobria
+    Sinceris spatiis vigent,
+    Floris germine simplicis,
+    Flagrant ingenuae rosae:
+      Quanquam perpetua fide
+    Illic mille Cupidines,
+    Centum mille Cupidines,
+    Pastos nectarea dape,
+    Blandis sumptibus educas;
+    Istis qui spatiis vagi,
+    Plenis lusibus ebrii,
+    Udo rore beatuli,
+    Uno plus decies die
+    Istis ex oculis tuis,
+    Istis ex oculis suas
+    Sopitas animant faces,
+    Et languentia recreant
+    Succo spicula melleo:
+    Tum flammis agiles novis
+    Lasciva volitant face,
+    Tum plenis tumidi minis,
+    Tum vel sidera territant,
+    Et coelum et fragilem Jovem:
+      Quanquam fronte sub ardua
+    Majestas gravis excubans,
+    Dulces fortiter improbis
+    Leges dictat amoribus:
+      Quanquam tota, per omnia,
+    Coelum machina praeferat,
+    Tanquam pagina multiplex
+    Vivo scripta volumine,
+    Terris indigitans polos.
+    Et compendia siderum:
+      Istis heu tamen heu genis,
+    Istis purpureis genis,
+    Oris sidere florido,
+    Regno frontis amabili;
+    Mors heu crastina forsitan
+    Crudeles faciet notas,
+    Naturaeque superbiam
+    Damnabit tumuli specu.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE BEAUTIFUL NOT LASTING.
+
+    Alas, how brief and grudg'd our Spring!
+    Ah, flow'ry days how vanishing!
+    E'en so ye hasten on and on
+    With an unceasing motion.
+    And thou, sweet Beauty, brightly flashing,
+    But all too soon thy fairness dashing,
+    To depths of lowest Night must go:
+    Ah, losing there thy hasty glow;
+    Dark'ning mists around thee clinging,
+    And thy loveliness swift-winging:
+    A love that brightens to deceive;
+    A dream-shadow, fugitive.
+      Ye therefore o'er whom Life's young Day
+    Shineth still with golden ray,
+    Seize--Fate's harsh distaff makes appeal,
+    And hoary Time's quick-whirling wheel,
+    As round and round the circle spins,
+    And to furthest distance wins--
+    Seize ye the gliding seasons fleet,
+    And dews of vernal Phosphor sweet,
+    And new-blown flowers' brightness meet.
+    O, what to tender loves ye owe,
+    Waste not on Chaos dark below,
+    Where pallid ghosts dim-gleaming go.
+      Though, Beauty, on thy starry cheeks,
+    Where snow's white pureness ever breaks,
+    And where gazing, we see born
+    Roses fresh without all thorn,
+    Buds intertwining undefil'd,
+    Spotless as e'er a grace-born child:
+      Though thou with everlasting faith
+    Fosterest with thy nectar'd breath
+    Myriad Loves, and dost them feed
+    With honey'd feast of heavenly mead
+    In gentle draughts; and they roam round
+    In thy realms, and aye are found
+    Surfeiting themselves with play
+    In one amorous holiday;
+    Happy in the drenching dew,
+    And seeking ever to renew
+    Their torch-flames at thy fair eyes,
+    And whet blunt arrows' ecstasies
+    With sweet juice that in honey lies:
+    And so, with their flame relum�d,
+    Deftly hover, airy-plum�d;
+    Waving higher still and higher
+    Their torches that raise soft desire;
+    Menacing the very stars,
+    Yea the old heavens i' their wars:
+      Although beneath thy high-arch'd brow
+    Sits Majesty, nor doth allow
+    To wanton loves such liberty
+    As mocks the Ruler of the sky;
+    But in their wild career gives pause,
+    Imposing on them Love's sweet laws:
+      Though thy whole frame in every part
+    Sets forth the sky as in a chart;
+    Though thy fair face in every look
+    Shows heaven in page of living book;
+    To Earth reveals the starry skies
+    In the bright glances of thine eyes:
+      Yet, alas, on these fair cheeks,
+    Where the rose all-blushing speaks,
+    There shall come the snow's sad whiteness,
+    And the red, heart-breaking brightness:
+    On the 'human face divine,'
+    That as a star doth radiant shine,
+    There shall come the deep'ning shadow,
+    As clouds across the dappl'd meadow.
+    On the high state of the brow
+    To-morrow Death may make his blow;
+    And all of Nature's bravery
+    Gone, in the Grave's cavern lie.
+    Alas, the fairest is the fleetest!
+    Alas, how short-liv'd is the sweetest!
+    Alas, the richest is the rarest!
+    Alas, that Death doth spoil the fairest!              G.
+
+
+HYMNUS VENERI,
+
+DUM IN ILLIUS TUTELAM TRANSEUNT VIRGINES.
+
+    Tu tuis adsis, Venus alme, sacris:
+    Rideas blandum, Venus, et benignum,
+    Quale cum Martem premis, aureoque
+                Frangis ocello.
+    Rideas � tum neque flamma Phoebum,
+    Nec juvent Phoeben sua tela; gestat
+    Te satis contra tuus ille tantum
+                Tela Cupido.
+    Saepe in ipsius pharetra Dianae
+    Hic suas ridens posuit sagittas,
+    Ausus et flammae Dominum magistris
+                Urere flammis.
+    Virginum te orat chorus--esse longum
+    Virgines nollent--modo servientum
+    Tot columbarum tibi passerumque augere catervam.
+    Dedicant quicquid labra vel rosarum
+    Colla, vel servant tibi liliorum;
+    Dedicant totum tibi ver genarum,
+                Ver oculorum.
+    Hinc tuo sumas licet arma nato,
+    Seu novas his ex oculis sagittas;
+    Seu faces flamma velit acriori
+                Flave comatas.
+    Sume, et � discant quid amica, quid nox,
+    Quid bene et blande vigilata nox sit;
+    Quid sibi dulcis furor, et protervus
+                Poscat amator.
+    Sume per quae tot tibi corda flagrant,
+    Per quod arcanum tua cestus halat,
+    Per tuus quicquid tibi dixit olim aut
+                Fecit Adonis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A HYMN TO VENUS,
+
+WHILE THE VIRGINS PASS UNDER HER PROTECTION.
+
+    Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,
+    Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;
+    Smile, Venus, with the smile that charms
+    When Mars enfolds thee in his arms,
+    O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,
+    Renown�d from the ages olden.
+    Smile; then Phoebus' flame shall fail,
+    Nor Phoebe her own darts avail.
+    Thy Cupid only against thee
+    Wields successful weaponry.
+    Oft and oft the laughing Boy
+    In the wildness of his joy
+    Has slipt into Diana's quiver
+    His keen arrows, that a shiver
+    Pleasant-painful send through all,
+    When he, trickster, doth enthral.
+    Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of Fire
+    With flames more burning, in his ire.
+      The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,
+    Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;
+    Were it but to offer here,
+    In the flock that hovers near,
+    More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:
+    To their prayer there's no denying.
+      Lo, they dedicate in posies
+    All their lips supply of roses;
+    All their necks, of lilies, white
+    As the dewy stainless light;
+    Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,
+    And that which from their eyes doth break.
+      Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest take
+    For thy wanton Boy to make
+    Arrows from their fire-darting eyes,
+    Or torches flame-tipp'd that surprise
+    With Love's delicious agonies.
+      Take them, and see thou lett'st them know
+    What means a 'mistress;' and then show
+    What the Night all-wakeful is
+    In the rapture of its bliss;
+    What the bold lover shall demand
+    When all charms he doth command.
+      Take them: by all the hearts that burn,
+    And passionate unto thee turn!
+    By all the mysteries that are breath'd,
+    Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!
+    By all to thee Adonis e'er
+    Or said or did, when he would swear,
+    Ne'er i' the world was one so fair!                  G.
+
+
+VERIS DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    Tempus adest, placidis quo sol novus auctior horis
+    Purpureos mulcere dies, et sidere verno
+    Floridus, augusto solet ire per aethera vultu,
+    Naturae communis amor; spes aurea mundi;
+    Virgineum decus, et dulcis lascivia rerum,
+    Ver tenerum, ver molle subit; jam pulchrior annus
+    Pube nova, roseaeque recens in flore juventae
+    Felici fragrat gremio, et laxatur odora
+    Prole parens; per aquas, perque arva, per omnia late
+    Ipse suas miratur opes, miratur honores.
+    Jam Zephyro resoluta suo tumet ebria tellus,
+    Et crebro bibit imbre Jovem, sub frondibus altis
+    Flora sedens, audit, felix! quo murmure lapsis
+    Fons patrius minitetur aquis, quae vertice crispo
+    Respiciunt tantum, et strepero procul agmine pergunt.
+    Audit, et arboreis siquid gemebunda recurrens
+    Garriat aura comis, audit, quibus ipsa susurris
+    Annuit, et facili cervice remurmurat arbor.
+    Quin audit querulas, audit quodcunque per umbras
+    Flebilibus Philomela modis miserabile narrat.
+    Tum quoque praecipue blandis Cytherea per orbem
+    Spargitur imperiis; molles tum major habenas
+    Incutit increpitans, cestus magis ignea rores
+    Ingeminat, tumidosque sinus flagrantior ambit;
+    Nympharum incedit late, Charitumque corona
+    Amplior, et plures curru jam nectit olores:
+    Quin ipsos quoque tum campis emittit apricis
+    Laeta parens gremioque omnes effundit Amores.        _Venus_
+    Mille ruunt equites blandi, peditumque protervae
+    Mille ruunt acies: levium pars terga ferarum
+    Insiliunt, gaudentque suis stimulare sagittis;
+    Pars optans gemino multum properare volatu
+    A�rios conscendit equos; hic passere blando
+    Subsiliens leve ludit iter; micat huc, micat illuc
+    Hospitio levis incerto, et vagus omnibus umbris:
+    Verum alter gravidis insurgens major habenis
+    Maternas molitur aves: illi improbus acrem
+    Versat apem similis, seseque agnoscit in illo.
+    Et brevibus miscere vias ac frangere gyris:
+    Pars leviter per prata vagi sua lilia dignis
+    Contendunt sociare rosis; tum floreus ordo
+    Consilio fragrante venit; lascivit in omni
+    Germine laeta manus; nitidis nova gloria pennis
+    Additur; illustri gremio sedet aurea messis;
+    Gaudet odoratas coma blandior ire sub umbras.
+    Excutiunt solitas, immitia tela, sagittas,
+    Ridentesque aliis pharetrae spectantur in armis.
+    Flore manus, et flore sinus, flore omnia lucent.
+    Undique jam flos est. Vitreas hic pronus ad undas
+    Ingenium illudentis aquae, fluitantiaque ora,
+    Et vaga miratur tremulae mendacia formae.
+    Inde suos probat explorans, et judice nympha
+    Informat radios, ne non satis igne protervo
+    Ora tremant, agilesque docet nova fulgura vultus,
+    Atque suo vibrare jubet petulantius astro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.
+
+    The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,
+    The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,
+    Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,
+    And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,
+    To climb with face august the heavenly way;
+    All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,
+    To which for garlands virgins are beholden.
+    With a glad plenty of all living things
+    Sweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.
+    The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,
+    And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,
+    Delicious odours pours from happy breast,
+    Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:
+    O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,
+    At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.
+    By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unbound
+    Drinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;
+    While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,
+    Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,
+    A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,
+    Which with curl'd head--alas, unduteous daughters--
+    Only look back, and then a garrulous band
+    Pursue their laughing way o'er all the land;
+    Lists how the sighing, oft-returning air
+    Soft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;
+    With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,
+    Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;
+    Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shade
+    Sad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.
+      Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,
+    And calls the world to worship at her feet;
+    Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,
+    Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;
+    More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,
+    And her warm swelling bosom girds around;
+    More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,
+    She marches forth, and to her chariot-traces
+    She yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,
+    Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,
+    From her maternal bosom see her pour;
+    A thousand horsemen sweet career around,
+    Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;
+    Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,
+    And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;
+    Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,
+    And so ascend each one an airy steed;
+    One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;
+    Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,
+    In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,
+    Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.
+    One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,
+    His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.
+    One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,
+    Only another self in him to see;
+    In tiny circles they awhile revolve,
+    But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.
+    Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,
+    Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.
+    Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,
+    Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.
+    New glory on their shining pinions rests,
+    A golden harvest settles on their breasts;
+    With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,
+    Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,
+    While other arms their smiling quivers show.
+    Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,
+    On every side appears a flowery sheen.
+    One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,
+    Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,
+    The liquid likeness of his wavering face,
+    And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.
+    Thence, his own rays examining, he tries
+    And fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,
+    That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;
+    His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,
+    With rays more wanton, bickering like a star.     R. WI.
+
+
+PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.
+
+    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:
+
+
+    EN
+    PRISCIANUS
+    VERBERANS
+    ET
+    VAPULANS.
+
+    Jam publicato verberans aures stylo
+    Qua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.
+
+
+    Londini
+
+    Excudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensis
+    Roberti Mulbourne ad insigne
+    Canis venatici in coemeterio Paulino.   1632.
+
+    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:
+
+    Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101] arvis
+    Praeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adepta
+    Villa[102] antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.
+
+    He describes the school:
+
+    Vicinae senior Carbonius[3] incola villae,
+    'Lingua vernacula idem quod {anthrakandros},
+
+    sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20_s._ a year:
+
+    De stipe[103] consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.
+
+    He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves
+    boys from the gallows:
+
+                        Iste caballus
+    Non in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinam         _the Trojan_
+    Sed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:
+    A triplici ligno[104] lignum hoc penate tuetur
+    Praecipitem aetatem.
+
+    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 horse, which, by poetical
+    license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty
+    cuts, and receives four:
+
+    Quattuor[105] inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,
+    Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.
+
+    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:
+
+    Vult sibi ut absolvens[106] accepti latio detur
+    Consignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.
+
+    Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:
+
+                    ..... bona Carbonissa
+    Inque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustro
+    Digna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107] cathedra,
+    Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.
+
+    They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the
+    marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)
+
+    Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarum
+    Qui populo Placita ad Communia[108] panditur, exit
+    Schedula quod vulgo[109] Regis Breve dicitur: illo
+    Mox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondet
+    In responsurum praescripto tempore: tempus
+    Cunctarum[110] lux est animarum crastini. Verum
+    Actor quis?[111] Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annos
+    Nondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?
+    Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristes
+    Et tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,
+    Quod[112] Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armis
+    Insultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevo
+    Verberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericli
+    De pueri vita ut desperaretur.
+
+    The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first
+    law-suit:
+
+                        Ecce
+    Nisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:
+
+    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:
+
+    LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.
+
+    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:
+
+          Ad {koprochrysounta}
+    Suavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:
+        Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.
+
+    In black-letter, as follows:
+
+    Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:
+    Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.
+
+    T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.
+
+    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. G.
+
+    Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?
+      Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?
+    Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.
+      Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.
+    Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.
+      Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.
+    Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballum
+      Quaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?
+    Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?
+      Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?
+    His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?
+      Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?
+    Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?
+      Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?
+    Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;
+      Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.
+    O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!
+      Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?
+    Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.
+      Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.
+    Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:
+      Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.
+    Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,
+      Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.
+    Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,
+      Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!
+    At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iram
+      Mille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.
+    Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:
+      Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.
+    O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,
+      Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!
+    Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.
+      Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.
+    Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballi
+      Exercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.
+    Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridet
+      Turpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.
+    Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,
+      O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,
+    At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?
+      Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!
+    Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?
+      Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.[113]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.
+
+    What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?
+    What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?
+    Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,
+    Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.
+    Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;
+    The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.
+    Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?
+    Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!
+    In such adornment shall he brightly shine?
+    His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?
+    His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?
+    O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?
+    In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,
+    So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?
+    Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,
+    Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.
+    Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!
+    O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?
+    Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,
+    Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:
+    And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;
+    Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.
+    Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,
+    Again he bore thee--in a better way!
+    Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,
+    Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.
+    His mother furious raves and wildly splutters
+    A thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.
+    Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;
+    Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.
+    O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,
+    Such words as in no law-court ever rung.
+    Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:
+    Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.
+    Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hide
+    By wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.
+    While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,
+    Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.
+    Whatever judge such nasty action tries,
+    See that he blow his nose well, I advise.
+    But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,
+    With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?
+    That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?--
+    'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee!  R. WI.
+
+
+AD LIBRUM
+
+SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR 'PRISCIANUS
+VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    Sordes � tibi gratulamur istas,
+    O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;
+    O Musa, � tibi candidas, suoque
+    Jam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas:
+    Sacro carmine quippe delinitae
+    Se nunc, � bene nesciunt, novaque
+    Mirantur facie novum nitorem.
+    Ipsas tu facis � nitere sordes.
+    Sordes � tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+    Si non hic natibus procax malignis
+    Foedo fulmine turpis intonasset,
+    Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex,
+    Docto et murmure carminis severi
+    Dulces fortiter aggregaret iras?
+    Ipsae � te faciunt nitere sordes:
+    Sordes � tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+      Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene!
+    Turpi quam bene degener parenti!
+    Foedi filia tam serena fontis.
+    Has de stercore quis putaret undas?
+    Sic � lactea surge, Musa, surge;
+    Surge inter medias serena sordes.
+    Spumis qualiter in suis Dione,
+    Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primas
+    Ortu purpureo movebat undas.
+    Sic � lactea surge, Musa, surge:
+    Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT
+
+PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, WHICH IS CALLED
+'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    On this vile theme thee we congratulate,
+    O golden Muse, pleasing and delicate;
+    This fair white vileness, Muse, which by its own
+    Or name or face is now no longer known.
+    For, charm'd by thy poetic sacred strain,
+    It knows not, happily, itself again;
+    But with new face wonders at its new splendour--
+    For splendid e'en a vile theme thou canst render:
+    Congratulations for vile theme we tender.
+    For had not _he_,[114] with headlong buttocks base,
+    Gone flashing foully on with thunderous pace,
+    From whence would this avenging plant have sprung,
+    This solemn strain with polish'd music rung?
+    And whence had gather'd these brave angers tender?
+    O Muse, the vilest theme can bring thee splendour,
+    For which congratulations now we render.
+      Thy Hippocren� comes with a fair face,
+    Finely unworthy of its father base;
+    Of a foul fountain so serene a daughter:
+    From dunghill, who would dream such crystal water?
+      Thus rise, O Muse, O rise, a milk-white queen,
+    Out of the midst of vileness rise serene.
+    Even as Venus rising from her spray,
+    When she discover'd to the light of day
+    Her golden limbs, the billowy waves surprising
+    With the first glory of her purple rising;
+    So rise, O Muse, thy milk-white grace unfold;
+    Ennius' dunghill will be Virgil's gold!           R. WI.
+
+
+MELIUS PURGATUR STOMACHUS PER
+
+VOMITUM QUAM PER SECESSUM.
+
+    Dum vires refero vomitus et nobile munus,
+      Da mini de vomitu, grandis Homere, tuo.
+    Nempe olim, multi cum carminis anxia moles
+      Vexabat stomachum, magne Poeta, tuum;
+    Aegraque jejuno tenuebat pectora morsu,
+      Jussit et in crudam semper hiare famem:
+    Phoebus, ut est medicus, vomitoria pocula praebens,
+      Morbum omnem longos expulit in vomitus.
+    Protinus et centum incumbunt toto ore Poetae,
+      Certantes sacras lambere relliquias.
+    Quod vix fecissent, scio, si medicamen ineptum
+      Venisset misere posteriore via.
+    Quippe per anfractus caecique volumina ventris
+      Sacra, putas, hostem vult medicina sequi?
+    Tam turpes tenebras haec non dignatur, at ipsum
+      Sedibus ex imis imperiosa trahit.
+
+    ERGO:
+
+    Per vomitum stomachus melius purgabitur, alvus
+      Quam qua secretis exit opaca viis.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    While we do not deem it expedient to translate this somewhat coarse
+    _jeu d'esprit_, 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:
+
+    Old Homer in his time made a great feast,
+    And every Poet was thereat a guest:
+    All had their welcome, yet not all one fare;
+    To them above the salt (his chiefest care)
+    He spread a banquet of choice Poesie,
+    Whereon they fed even to satietie.
+    The lower end had from that end their cates;
+    For Homer, setting open his dung-gates,
+    Delivered from that dresser excrement,
+    Whereon they glutted, and returned in print.
+    Let no man wonder that I this rehearse;
+    Nought came from Homer but it turned to verse.
+    Now where our Author was, at this good cheere,
+    Where was his place, or whether he were there;
+    Whether he waited, or he tooke away,
+    Of this same point I cannot soothly say.
+    But this I ghesse: being then a dandiprat,
+    Some witty Poet took him on his lap,
+    And fed him, from above, with some choice bit.
+    Hence his acumen, and a ready wit.
+    But prayers from a friendly pen ill thrive,
+    And truth's scarce truth, spoke by a relative.
+    Let envy, therefore, give her vote herein:
+    Envy and th' Author sure are nought akin.
+    He personate bad Envy; yet say so,
+    He lickt at Homer's mouth, not from below.      R[ALPH] H[UTTON].
+
+    Percy Society edit. (Rimbault), 1842. Both Hutton and Crashaw remind
+    us of the like sportiveness (rough) in Dryden and Byron. G.
+
+
+CUM HORUM ALIQUA DEDICARAM
+
+PRAECEPTORI MEO COLENDISSIMO, AMICO AMICISSIMO, R. BROOKE.[115]
+
+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.
+
+    Qualiter e nido multa jam floridus ala
+    Astra sibi meditatur avis, pulchrosque meatus
+    A�rios inter proceres, licet aethera nunquam
+    Expertus, rudibusque illi sit in ardua pennis
+    Prima fides, micat ire tamen, quatiensque decora
+    Veste leves humeros, querulumque per a�ra ludens
+    Nil dubitat vel in astra vagos suspendere nisus,
+    At vero simul immensum per inane profundis
+    Exhaustus spatiis, vacuoque sub aethere pendens,
+    Arva procul sylvasque suas, procul omnia cernit,
+    Cernere quae solitus: tum vero victa cadit mens,
+    Spesque suas, et tanta timens conamina, totus
+    Respicit ad matrem, pronisque revertitur auris.
+
+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 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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WHEN I HAD DEDICATED CERTAIN OF MY POEMS
+
+TO MY MOST ESTIMABLE PRECEPTOR AND MOST FRIENDLY FRIEND, R. BROOKE.
+
+'Well done, Muse!' was thy encouraging word, most estimable Pr�ceptor;
+'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.
+
+      Like as a nestling, feather'd gaily o'er,
+    Is meditating towards the stars to soar,
+    And in ambitious flights already vies
+    With the wing'd chiefs that skim along the skies:
+    What though he never has essay'd the air,
+    And needs must trust in plumes untried to bear
+    Unwonted burden heavenward? yet he quivers
+    To stretch his wings, and his fair plumage shivers
+    Round his light shoulders till he flits away,
+    While whispering airs against his pinions play;
+    Nor dreams he will suspend his wandering flight
+    Anywhere short of regions starry bright.
+    But when exhausted by the spaces high
+    And the immeasurable void of sky,
+    Hovering in empty air, far off he sees
+    The fields and hedges and familiar trees--
+    O, how far off!--which used his sight to please;
+    Then sudden overpower'd behold him sink,
+    And from his hopes and lofty soarings shrink:
+    To his dear mother his whole soul looks back,
+    And down he flutters on the homeward track.
+
+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.
+
+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. R. WI.
+
+
+IN OBITUM REV. V. D^{ris} MANSELL,
+
+COLL. REGIN. M^{ri} QUI VEN. D^{s} BROOKE [M^{ri} COLL. TRIN.],
+INTERITUM PROXIME SECUTUS EST.[116]
+
+    Ergo iterum in lacrymas et saevi murmura planctus
+      Ire jubet tragica mors iterata manu;
+    Scilicet illa novas quae jam fert dextra sagittas,
+      Dextra priore recens sanguine stillat adhuc.
+    Vos �, quos socia Lachesis prope miscuit urna,
+      Et vicina colus vix sinit esse duos;
+    Ite �, quos nostri jungunt consortia damni;
+      Per nostras lacrymas � nimis ite pares;
+    Ite per Elysias felici tramite valles,
+      Et sociis animos conciliate viis.
+    Illic ingentes ultro confundite manes,
+      Noscat et aeternam mutua dextra fidem.
+    Communes eadem spargantur in otia curae,
+      Atque idem felix poscat utrumque labor.
+    Nectarae simul ite vagis sermonibus horae;
+      Nox trahat alternas continuata vices.
+    Una cibos ferat, una suas vocet arbor in umbras;
+      Ambobus faciles herba det una toros.
+    Certum erit interea quanto sit major habenda
+      Quam quae per vitam est, mortis amicitia.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE DEATH OF REV. DR. MANSELL,
+
+MASTER OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE, WHICH FOLLOWED VERY CLOSELY THE DECEASE OF
+REV. DR. BROOKE.[117]
+
+    In tears once more and sighs of cruel woe
+    Death's tragic stroke repeated bids us go;
+    That fatal hand, which now bears arrows new,
+    Still freshly drips with former crimson dew.
+    Ye whom Fate almost mingl'd in one urn,
+    Whom to be two, close threads forbid discern;
+    Go ye, who equally our sorrows share,
+    By reason of our tears too much a pair;
+    Go where Elysian vales your steps invite,
+    In social paths your happy souls unite;
+    There mix your mighty shades with willing mind,
+    Eternal faith your blended right-hands find.
+    Let common cares be lost in the same joys,
+    While the same happy labour both employs;
+    Through nectar'd hours in talk together range,
+    And night continue the sweet interchange:
+    One tree bear fruit for both, one tree yield shade,
+    On the same turf your pleasant couch be made;
+    Thus how much better will be plainly seen
+    Friendship of Death than that of life, I ween.    R. WI.
+
+
+HONORATISSIMO DR. ROBERTO HEATH,
+
+SUMMO JUSTIT. DE COM. BANCO, GRATULATIO.[118]
+
+    Ignitum latus et sacrum tibi gratulor ostrum,
+      O amor atque tuae gloria magna togae:
+    Nam video Themis ecce humeris, Themis ardet in istis,
+      Inque tuos gaudet tota venire sinus.
+    O ibi purpureo quam se bene porrigit astro,
+      Et docet hic radios luxuriare suos.
+    Imo eat aeterna sic � Themis aurea pompa;
+      Hic velit � sidus semper habere suum.
+    Sic flagret, et nunquam tua purpura palleat intus;
+      O nunquam in vultus digna sit ire tuos.
+    Sanguine ab innocuo nullos bibat illa rubores;
+      Nec tam crudeli murice proficiat.
+    Quaeque tibi est (nam quae non est tibi?) candida virtus
+      Fortunam placide ducat in alta tuam.
+    Nullius viduae lacrymas tua marmora sudent;
+      Nec sit, quae inclamet te, tibi facta domus.
+    Non gemat ulla suam pinus tibi scissa ruinam,
+      Ceu cadat in domini murmure maesta sui.
+    Fama suas subter pennas tibi sternat eunti;
+      Illa tubae faciat te melioris opus.
+    Thura tuo, quacunque meat, cum nomine migrent;
+      Quaeque vehit felix te, vehat aura rosas.
+    Vive tuis, nec enim non sunt aequissima, votis
+      Aequalis, quae te sidera cunque vocant.
+    Haec donec niveae cedat tua purpura pallae,
+      Lilium ibi fuerit, quae rosa vestis erat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD ROBERT HEATH,
+
+ON HIS BEING MADE A JUDGE: A CONGRATULATION.[119]
+
+    Upon thy sacred purple, barr'd with fire,
+    I gratulate thee--glorious, lov'd attire!
+    For on those shoulders I see Justice shine,
+    And glad to hide within those folds of thine.
+    O finely there she shoots her purple beam,
+    And teaches here her rays brightly to gleam.
+    May Justice thus in pomp eternal go,
+    Here always wish her golden star to glow!
+    Thus blaze, and ne'er thy purple pale its blush,
+    And never need into thy face to flush.
+    From innocent blood ne'er drink a deeper dye,
+    And turn more crimson from such cruelty.
+    Let all fair virtues--for thou ownest all--
+    Calmly to heaven above thy footsteps call.
+    No widows' tears thy marble halls distil,
+    No house cry out against thee, built by ill;
+    No timber cut for thee its downfall groan,
+    'Mid its lord's murmurs sadly overthrown.
+    May Fame spread out her wings beneath thy feet,
+    And thee with loud applause her trumpet greet!
+    May incense waft thy name where'er it goes,
+    The happy gale which bears thee bear the rose!
+    Live equal to thy prayers, most just are they,
+    Whatever stars direct thee on thy way,
+    Till this thy purple turn to robe of snow,
+    And where the rose had been, the lily glow!       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+HORATII ODE,
+
+Ille et nefasto te posuit die, &c. Lib. ii. 13.
+
+
+{hell�nisti.}
+
+    {H�ra se keinos th�ken apophradi
+    Ho pr�tos hostis cheiri te b�maki
+      Ethrepse, dendron, t�s te k�m�s
+        Aition, essomen�n t' elenchos.
+    Keinos tok�os thrypse kai auchena,
+    Keinos ge, phai�n, haimati xeini�
+      Mych�taton koit�na rhaine
+        Nyktios, amphaphaase keinos
+    Ta d�ta Kolch�n pharmaka, kai kakou
+    Pan chr�ma, d�sas moi epich�rion
+      Se stygnon ernos, despotou se
+        Empeson es kephal�n aeik�s.
+    Pas�s men h�r�s pan epikindynon
+    Tis oide pheugein? deidie Bosphoron
+      Libys ho pl�t�n, oud' anaik�r
+        T�n kryphi�n heter�then oknei.
+    Parth�n mach�mon Rh�ma�kos phyg�n,
+    Kai toxa; Parthos Rh�ma�k�n bian,
+      Kai desma; laous alla moiras
+        Balle, balei t' adok�tos horm�.
+    Schedon schedon p�s Persephon�s idon
+    Aul�n melain�n, kai krisin Aiakou,
+      Kal�n t' apostasin makair�n
+        Aioliais kinyr�n te chordais
+    Sapph� patridos memphomen�n korais,
+    �chounta kai se pleion epichrys�,
+      Alkaie, pl�ktr� skl�ra n�os,
+        Skl�ra phyg�s, polemou te skl�ra
+    Euph�meousai d' amphoter�n skiai
+    Klyousi thambei, tas de machas pleon,
+      Anastatous te men tyrannous
+        �mias ekpien �si laos.
+    Ti thaum'? ekeinais th�r hote trikranos
+    Ak�n aoidais, ouata kabbale,
+      Erinny�n th' h�dypathousi
+        Bostryches, h�sychi�n echidn�n.
+    Kai d� Prom�theus, kai Pelopos pat�r
+    Heudousin �chei t� lathik�de�;
+      Agein leontas �ri�n de
+        Ou phileei, phoberas te lynkas.}
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+III.
+
+ROYAL AND ACADEMICAL.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+    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 Serenissim� Regin�' &c. the heading is
+    'Senerissim�;' l. 14, 'tuos' for 'tuus;' l. 41, 'Namque' for 'Nam
+    qu�;' 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, 'tener�' 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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+AD CAROLUM PRIMUM:
+
+REX REDUX.[120]
+
+
+    Ille redit, redit. Hoc populi bona murmura volvunt;
+      Publicus hoc, audin'? plausus ad astra refert:
+    Hoc omni sedet in vultu commune serenum;
+      Omnibus hinc una est laetitiae facies.
+    Rex noster, lux nostra redit; redeuntis ad ora
+      Arridet totis Anglia laeta genis:
+    Quisque suos oculos oculis accendit ab istis;
+      Atque novum sacro sumit ab ore diem.
+    Forte roges tanto quae digna pericula plausu
+      Evadat Carolus, quae mala quosve metus:
+    Anne pererrati male fida volumina ponti
+      Ausa illum terris pene negare suis:
+    Hospitis an nimii rursus sibi conscia tellus
+      Vix bene speratum reddat Ibera caput.
+    Nil horum; nec enim male fida volumina ponti
+      Aut sacrum tellus vidit Ibera caput.
+    Verus amor tamen haec sibi falsa pericula fingit--
+      Falsa peric'la solet fingere verus amor;
+    At Carolo qui falsa timet, nec vera timeret--
+      Vera peric'la solet temnere verus amor;
+    Illi falsa timens, sibi vera pericula temnens,
+      Non solum est fidus, sed quoque fortis amor.
+    Interea nostri satis ille est causa triumphi:
+      Et satis, ah, nostri causa doloris erat.
+    Causa doloris erat Carolus, sospes licet esset;
+      Anglia quod saltem dicere posset, abest.
+    Et satis est nostri Carolus nunc causa triumphi:
+      Dicere quod saltem possumus: Ille redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE RETURN OF THE KING.
+
+    'The King returns!' the people cry;
+    And shouts of greeting scale the sky.
+    The news sits in each look serene;
+    In each a common joy is seen.
+    Our King! our light! she laughs once more,
+    Glad Anglia, as he gains her shore.
+    Each at the King's eyes lights his eyes;
+    Sees new day with his face arise.
+    You'll ask, what fears beset his way,
+    What ills, what dangers,--we're so gay:
+    If 'gainst his bark, that sail'd for home,
+    The faithless billows dar'd to foam;
+    Or if, so seldom blest, you plann'd
+    To keep him still, Iberian land.
+    Nor waves have wrong'd his saintly head,
+    Nor green Iberia felt his tread.
+    Yet think such fancies true love will--
+    True love, that feigns false perils still:
+    Us such fears vex, whose hearts are stout--
+    True perils still true love will scout:
+    Thus fear false perils, scorn the true,
+    Will trusty love and brave in you.
+    O fitly we kept cloudy brow,
+    Because of him, as laughter now.
+    When we could say, 'Our King's not here,'
+    We griev'd for him, no danger near:
+    Now our hearts can no least joy lack,
+    When we say, laughing, 'He's come back.'              A.
+
+
+AD PRINCIPEM NONDUM NATUM,
+
+REGINA GRAVIDA.[121]
+
+    Nascere nunc, � nunc; quid enim, puer alme, moraris?
+      Nulla tibi dederit dulcior hora diem.
+    Ergone tot tardos, � lente, morabere menses?
+      Rex redit; ipse veni, et dic, bone, gratus ades.
+    Nam quid ave nostrum? quid nostri verba triumphi?
+      Vagitu melius dixeris ista tuo.
+    At maneas tamen, et nobis nova causa triumphi:
+      Sic demum fueris; nec nova causa tamen:
+    Nam quoties Carolo novus aut nova nascitur infans,
+      Revera toties Carolus ipse redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE ROYAL INFANT NOT YET BORN,
+
+THE QUEEN BEING WITH CHILD.
+
+    Be born, O, now; for why, fair child, delay?
+    No sweeter hour will bring to thee the day.
+    So many months wilt linger on the wing?
+    The King returns; come thou, and welcome bring.
+    What is our hail? our voice of triumph high?
+    Thou wilt have said these better with thy cry.
+    But stay; and soon new cause of triumph be;
+    And yet in thee no new cause shall we see:
+    Oft as to Charles is born new girl, new boy,
+    Sure Charles himself returns, and brings us joy.  R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+IN FACIEM AUGUSTISSIMI REGIS
+
+A MORBILLIS INTEGRAM.[122]
+
+
+    Musa redi, vocat alma parens Aeademia: noster
+      En redit, ore suo noster Apollo redit;
+    Vultus adhuc suus, et vultu sua purpura tantum
+      Vivit, et admixtas pergit amare nives.
+    Tune illas violare genas? tune illa profanis,
+      Morbe ferox, tentas ire per ora notis?
+    Tu Phoebi faciem tentas, vanissime? Nostra
+      Nec Phoebe maculas novit habere suas.
+    Ipsa sui vindex facies morbum indignatur;
+      Ipsa sedet radiis � bene tuta suis:
+    Quippe illic Deus est. coelumque et sanctius astrum:
+      Quippe sub his totus ridet Apollo genis.
+    Quod facie Rex tutus erat, quod caetera tactus:
+      Hinc hominem Rex est fassus, et inde Deum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE FACE OF THE MOST AUGUST KING.
+
+UNINJURED BY SMALL-POX.
+
+    Come, Muse, at call of thy Academy:
+    With his own face our Phoebus here we see;
+    His face his own yet, with its own red dyed,
+    Which with its whiteness loves to be allied.
+    O fierce disease, dost thou, with marks profane,
+    Attempt these cheeks, that countenance, to stain?
+    Most futile! Dost attempt our Phoebus' face?
+    Not in our Phoebe her own spots canst trace.
+    His self-asserting face disdains disease;
+    'Mid its own rays it sits, O well at ease.
+    Sure God and heaven and holiest star are here;
+    Sure 'neath these cheeks smiles Phoebus full and clear.
+    Our King being safe in face, but touch'd elsewhere,
+    Proves he was here a god, though a man there.     R. WI.
+
+
+IN SERENISSIMAE REGINAE
+
+PARTUM HIEMALEM.[123]
+
+    Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non pr�beat hortus?
+      Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer.
+    Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres
+      Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.
+    Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras;
+      Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.
+    Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem,
+      Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur.
+    Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis
+      Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis?
+    Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis?
+      Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas?
+    O Maria, � divum soboles, genitrixque deorum,
+      Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?
+    Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumae
+      Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos?
+    Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma,
+      Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives?
+    Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris,
+      Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?
+    O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto
+      Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis;
+    O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi
+      Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes;
+    Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis;
+      Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos.
+    Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri;
+      Inque uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui.
+    Sit nobis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras
+      Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis.
+    Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres,
+      Has per te roseas saepe videre nives.
+    Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum,
+      Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies:
+    Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?
+      Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?
+    Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum:
+      In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.
+    Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni:
+      Tempus et in titulos transeat omne tuos.
+    Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?
+      Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga?
+    Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroque:
+      Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.
+    Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum
+      Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam.
+    O bona sors anni, cum cuncti ex ordine menses
+      Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN WINTER.
+
+    Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now
+    Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou
+    Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,--snow?
+    Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know.
+    Winter upon our shores, and snow? the thing
+    Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring:
+    Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear
+    Beatings of wild December, Spring is here.
+    See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine
+    Spreads forth, what clusters on her boughs incline?
+    Say, when like this was Winter ever seen
+    To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen,
+    Offspring of gods, and mother! do we see
+    The seasons thus a plaything made for thee?
+    Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain,
+    That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain.
+    And do the lilies by thy grace alone
+    Spring up, and know no snows except their own?
+    In spite of all that Winter may oppose,
+    Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose?
+    O thou most blest disturber of the year,
+    Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here
+    To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind
+    Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind
+    All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare
+    We pray thee, thus to force our calendar
+    With thy fair violence; continue still
+    The months to number at thine own sweet will;
+    Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome,
+    Make all things subject to thy royal womb.
+    So, by thy grace, may it be often ours
+    To see dethron�d Winter deck'd in flowers;
+    On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze,
+    Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays!
+    Let others by the stars compute their year,
+    And count their days as wandering signs appear:
+    Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm
+    With cruel change our seasons dare deform;
+    To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign,
+    O spend it all i' those rich births of thine!
+    So the whole year shall own thy womb to be
+    Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee
+    Merge all its titles. Where's the month could bear
+    A more delicious name, or ever wear
+    More whiteness? Janus, for his double crown,
+    Covets this laurel; Maius for his own
+    Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost.
+    Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost
+    His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite
+    To take their empire. O blest year, how bright
+    Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim
+    From Mary or from Charles its mighty name!            G.
+
+
+AD REGINAM
+
+ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.[124]
+
+    Huc � sacris circumflua coetibus,
+    Huc � frequentem, Musa, choris pedem
+    Fer, annuo doctum labore
+              Purpureas agitare cunas.
+    Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam
+    Maria partu nobilis altero,
+    Prolemque Musarum ministram
+              Egregius sibi poscit infans.
+    Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici
+    Sibive soli facta puerpera est:
+    Partu repercusso, vel absens,
+              Perpetuos procreat gemellos.
+    Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit,
+    Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit,
+    Quae spiritum vitamque donat
+              Principibus simul et Camaenis.
+    Possit Camaenas, non sine numine,
+    Lassare nostras diva puerpera,
+    Et gaudiis siccare totam
+              Perpetuis Heliconis undam.
+    Quin experiri pergat, et in vices
+    Certare sanctis conditionibus:
+    Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro
+              Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci.
+    Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras,
+      Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens.
+    Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas--
+      Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!--vices.
+    Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni:
+      Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    Hither, Muse, and bring again
+    Thy august surrounding train;
+    With measur'd tread of practis'd feet
+    Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet
+    With the voice of loyal cheer
+    A princely cradle year by year.
+    Lo, our noble Queen on thee
+    Calls in fruitful rivalry
+    By another birth; and he,
+    Illustrious infant, needs must have
+    The Muses' offspring for his slave.
+    Never has she yet been known
+    A mother for herself alone,
+    But by a reflected might
+    Even in absence doth delight
+    In twins ever, and while she
+    Thus augments her progeny,
+    And gives vigour to the lyre,
+    She doth at once with life inspire
+    Young princes, and the Muses' quire.
+    These, though not untouch'd they be
+    With the sacred flame, may she
+    Tire in her fruitful deity,
+    And with joys that theirs outrun,
+    Dry at last all Helicon!
+    Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove
+    Her powers, she deigns by rule to move;
+    Nor an unbecoming stain
+    Is the dust that they must gain,
+    Who in such contest can but fight in vain.
+    Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming,
+      Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair:
+    On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming,
+      A better Nature, with a rule how rare!
+    Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way;
+    A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of
+              Day.                                       CL.
+
+
+SERENISSIMAE REGINAE LIBRUM SUUM
+
+COMMENDAT ACADEMIA.
+
+    Hunc quoque materna, nimium nisi magna rogamus,
+      Aut aviae saltem sume, Maria, manu.
+    Est Musa de matre recens rubicundulus infans,
+      Cui pater est partus--quis putet?--ille tuus.
+    Usque adeo impatiens amor est in virgine Musa:
+      Jam nunc ex illo non negat esse parens.
+    De nato quot habes olim sperare nepotes,
+      Qui simul et pater est, et facit esse patrem!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER MOST SERENE MAJESTY
+
+THE UNIVERSITY COMMENDS ITS BOOK.
+
+    Deign, Queen, to this, unless we ask too much,
+    A mother's, or at least grandmother's, touch.
+    It is the Muse's rosy infant fine;
+    Its father--who would think?--this Child of thine.
+    So unrestrain'd the love of virgin Muse,
+    To be a mother thus she can't refuse.
+    From _him_ what grandsons round thee soon will gather,
+    Who at once father is, and makes a father!        R. WI.
+
+
+PRINCIPI RECENS NATAE
+
+OMEN MATERNAE INDOLIS.[125]
+
+    Cresce, � dulcibus imputanda divis;
+    O cresce, et propera, puella princeps,
+    In matris propera venire partes.
+    Et cum par breve fulminum minorum,
+    Illinc Carolus, et Jacobus inde,
+    In patris faciles subire famam,
+    Ducent fata furoribus decoris;
+    Cum terror sacer Anglicique magnum
+    Murmur nominis increpabit omnem
+    Late Bosporon Ottomanicasque
+    Non picto quatiet tremore Lunas;
+    Te tunc altera nec timenda paci
+    Poscent praelia; tu potens pudici
+    Vibratrix oculi, pios in hostes
+    Late dulcia fata dissipabis.
+    O eum flos tener ille, qui recenti
+    Pressus sidere jam sub ora ludit,
+    Olim fortior omne cuspidatos
+    Evolvet latus aureum per ignes;
+    Quique imbellis adhuc, adultus olim,
+    Puris expatiabitur genarum
+    Campis imperiosior Cupido;
+    O quam certa superbiore penna
+    Ibunt spicula melleaeque mortes,
+    Exultantibus hinc et inde turmis,
+    Quoquo jusseris, impigre volabunt!
+    O quot corda calentium deorum
+    De te vulnera delicata discent!
+    O quot pectora principum magistris
+    Fient molle negotium sagittis!
+    Nam quae non poteris per arma ferri,
+    Cui matris sinus atque utrumque sidus
+    Magnorum patet officina amorum?
+    Hinc sumas licet, � puella princeps,
+    Quantacunque opus est tibi pharetra.
+    Centum sume Cupidines ab uno
+    Matris lumine Gratiasque centum
+    Et centum Veneres: adhuc manebunt
+    Centum mille Cupidines; manebunt
+    Tercentum Veneresque Gratiaeque
+    Puro fonte superstites per aevum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Grow, maiden Princess, and increase,
+    Thou who with the sweet goddesses
+    Thy place shalt have; O haste to be
+    Thy mother's own epitome;
+    And when that pair of minor flames,
+    Thy princely brothers Charles and James,
+    Apt in the footsteps of their sire,
+    Lead on the Fates in glorious ire;
+    When o'er the Bosphorus shall creep
+    A thrill of dread, as rolls full deep
+    The murmur of the British name,
+    And with no feign'd alarm shall shame
+    The Turkish Crescent--other wars,
+    And such as bring sweet Peace no tears
+    Shall call thee forth; and from on high
+    The flashing of thy modest eye
+    Shall scatter o'er adoring foes
+    Thick volleys of delicious woes.
+    O, when that tender bloom which now
+    Plays, lately born, beneath thy brow,
+    In time to come with mightier blaze
+    Shall dart around its pointed rays;
+    When he, the Cupid now so mild,
+    No longer but a harmless child,
+    Shall range in youth's imperious pride
+    Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,--
+    O then with what unerring skill,
+    Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,
+    While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow
+    Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!
+    How many god-like breasts shall learn
+    From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!
+    How often shall thy mastering darts
+    Work their sweet will on princely hearts!
+    For what may she not do in war,
+    Whose mother's breast--with each bright star
+    That rul'd her birth--to her but proves
+    A storehouse of all-conquering loves?
+      Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,
+    Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.
+    A hundred Cupids be thy prize,
+    From one of thy bright mother's eyes;
+    A hundred graces add to these,
+    And then a hundred Venuses:
+    A hundred-thousand Cupids still
+    Are hers; three hundred Graces will,
+    With Venuses in equal store,
+    Haunt that pure fount for evermore.                CL.
+
+
+
+
+IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS.[126]
+
+
+    Parce tuo jam, bruma ferox, � parce furori,
+    Pone animos; � pacatae da spiritus aurae,
+    Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum.
+    Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster
+    Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat;
+    Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis;
+    Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares,
+    Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster.
+    Scilicet hoc decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum
+    Attollit series, adeo commune serenum
+    Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas;
+    Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras
+    Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis?
+    Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae
+    Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu
+    Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes
+    Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis
+    Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata
+    Luxurie, tanta � circum cunabula surgat,
+    Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus.
+      Quippe venit, sacris iterum vagitibus ingens
+    Aula sonat, venit en roseo decus addita fratri
+    Blanda soror. Tibi se brevibus, tibi porrigit ulnis,
+    Magne puer, facili tibi torquet hiantia risu
+    Ora; tibi molles lacrymas et nobile murmur
+    Temperat, inque tuo ponit se pendula collo.
+    Tale decus juncto veluti sub stemmate cum quis
+    Dat sociis lucere rosis sua lilia. Talis
+    Fulget honos medio cum se duo sidera mundo
+    Dulcibus intexunt radiis: nec dignior olim
+    Flagrabat nitidae felix consortio formae,
+    Tunc cum sidereos inter pulcherrima fratres
+    Erubuit primum, et Laedaeo cortice rupto
+    Tyndarida explicuit tenerae nova gaudia frontis.
+      Sic socium � miscete jubar, tu candide frater,
+    Tuque serena soror. Sic � date gaudia patri,
+    Sic matri cumque ille olim subeuntibus annis,
+    Ire inter proprios magna cervice triumphos.
+    Egregius volet, atque sua se discere dextra;
+    Te quoque tum pleno mulcebit sidere, et alto
+    Flore tui dulcesque oculos maturior ignis
+    Indole divina, et radiis intinget honoris.
+    Tunc � te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa,
+    Esse suam Phoeben fulsus jurabit Apollo;
+    Tunc � te quoties, nisi quod tu castior illa,
+    Esse suam Venerem Mavors jurabit inanis.
+    Felix, ah, et cui se non Mars, non aureus ipse
+    Credet Apollo parem; tanta cui conjuge celsus
+    In pulchros properare sinus, et carpere sacras
+    Delicias oculosque tuos, tua basia solus
+    Tum poterit dixisse sua; et se nectare tanto
+    Dum probat esse Deum, superas contemnere mensas.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Forbear thy fury, Winter fierce, forbear;
+    Lay down thy wrath, and let the tranquil air
+    With inspiration mild soothe the stern year:
+    This time deserves it, and occasion dear.
+    The wild North-wind may rage and wildly bluster;
+    The gusty South its rainy clouds may muster;
+    Yet here at least, if thou but will it so,
+    Neither wild North nor gusty South will blow.
+    For were it seemly, when events so bright
+    Exalt us, and the universal light
+    Of joy and vernal pleasure thrills the soul,
+    Grim lines of battling tempest-clouds should roll
+    Through all the air, and drown the year with rain?
+    Better old Winter should bright youth regain,
+    And turn at once to Spring; with tumult sweet
+    Hasten his purple stores, and joyful greet
+    With all his outpour'd heart this shining Day,
+    And bid its fragrant hours for ever stay;
+    Making a radiant wealth of flowers abound
+    Where in her cradle that sweet Child is found,
+    Her tender limbs caress and softly compass round.
+      She comes! Once more are heard those bless�d cries
+    Within the palace. See a glory rise--
+    A star-like glory added to the other,
+    A charming sister to a rosy brother!
+    To this she stretches out her tiny arms,
+    Fair Boy--for thee displays the winsome charms
+    Of her sweet smiles, and checks her gentle tears,
+    And coos and prattles to delight thine ears,
+    Or fondly hangs upon thy neck. Such grace
+    Pleases the eye, when, their stalks joined, you place
+    Lilies with roses to combine their splendour.
+    And then appears such lustrous glory tender,
+    When in the midst of heaven, at dewy eve,
+    Two stars their gentle radiance interweave.
+    Nor loftier grace that beauteous union show'd
+    When from her egg the fairest Helen glow'd
+    Betwixt her starry brothers, and display'd
+    Her tender brow with new delights array'd.
+      So mix your common beam, thou brother fair
+    And sister mild. Such joys your father share
+    And mother dear! And when, as seasons roll,
+    He moves with head erect and princely soul
+    Amid his proper triumphs, and shall learn
+    Himself by his own deeds, thou shalt discern
+    A riper flame within thee, heavenly dower,
+    And star full-orb'd shalt shine, and full-grown flower;
+    While a soft beauty bathes thy lustrous eyes,
+    And rays of majesty the world surprise.
+      Then O how oft, but that thou art more fair,
+    Will some imaginary Phoebus swear
+    That thou art his own Phoebe! or again
+    But that thou art more chaste, some Mars in vain
+    Will swear thou art his Venus, love's soft strain!
+      Ah, happy he, to whom nor Mars will dream
+    Nor golden Phoebus he can equal seem,
+    Who with a wife so sweet, so fair is blest,
+    And all the fond affection of thy breast,
+    And tender, pure endearments; who alone
+    Can call thy eyes and kisses all his own;
+    And while he quaffs such nectar'd wine of love,
+    Feels like a god, and scorns the feasts above.    R. WI.
+
+
+AD REGINAM.[127]
+
+    Et vero jam tempus erat tibi, maxima mater,
+      Dulcibus his oculis accelerare diem:
+    Tempus erat, ne qua tibi basia blanda vacarent;
+      Sarcina ne collo sit minus apta tuo.
+    Scilicet ille tuus, timor et spes ille suorum,                  5
+      Quo primum es felix pignore facta parens,
+    Ille ferox iras jam nunc meditatur et enses,
+      Jam patris magis est, jam magis ille suus.
+    Indolis � stimulos; vix dum illi transiit infans,
+      Jamque sibi impatiens arripit ille virum.                    10
+    Improbus ille suis adeo negat ire sub annis:
+      Jam nondum puer est, major et est puero.
+    Si quis in aulaeis pictas animatus in iras
+      Stat leo, quem docta cuspide lusit acus,
+    Hostis, io, est; neque enim ille alium dignabitur hostem;      15
+      Nempe decet tantas non minor ira manus.
+    Tunc hasta gravis adversum furit; hasta bacillum est;
+      Mox falsum vero vulnere pectus hiat.
+    Stat leo, ceu stupeat tali bene fixus ab hoste,
+      Ceu quid in his oculis vel timeat vel amet,                  20
+    Tam torvum, tam dulce micant: nescire fatetur
+      Mars ne sub his oculis esset, an esset amor.
+    Quippe illic Mars est, sed qui bene possit amari;
+      Est et amor certe, sed metuendus amor:
+    Talis amor, talis Mars est ibi cernere; qualis                 25
+      Seu puer hic esset, sive vir ille Deus.
+    Hic tibi jam scitus succedit in oscula fratris;
+      Res, ecce, in lusus non operosa tuos.
+    Basia jam veniant tua quantacunque caterva;
+      Jam quocunque tuus murmure ludat amor.                       30
+    En, tibi materies tenera et tractabilis hic est;
+      Hic ad blanditias est tibi cera satis.
+    Salve infans, tot basiolis, molle argumentum,
+      Maternis labiis dulce negotiolum;
+    O salve; nam te nato, puer auree, natus                        35
+      Et Carolo et Mariae tertius est oculus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    'Twas now the time for thee, Mother most great,
+    With these sweet eyes the day to accelerate;
+    Time thy soft kisses should not idle be,
+    Or from fit burden thy fair neck be free.
+    For he, his parents' fear and hope confest,
+    With whom thou first wast made a mother blest,
+    He wraths and swords designs, courageous grown;
+    Now more his father's is, and more his own.
+    O spurs of nature! yet an infant, see
+    He catches at the man impatiently,
+    The rogue declines to keep in his own years;
+    Not yet a child, he more than child appears.
+    If on the tapestry, with feign'd anger fraught,
+    A lion stands, by skilful needle wrought,
+    A foe behold; such foe to fight he deigns;
+    A lesser wrath his mighty hand disdains.
+    Fierce spear he brandishes; a wand his spear:
+    Soon in false breast behold true wound appear.
+    The lion stands, maz'd by such enemy,
+    Fearing or loving something in his eye,
+    So sternly, sweetly bright; nor can he tell
+    Whether beneath that eye Mars or Love dwell.
+    In sooth, a Mars who may be lov'd is here;
+    And Love indeed, but Love deserving fear.
+    Such Love, such Mars, 'tis easy here to scan;
+    This god or that, as he is boy or man.
+      Thy babe now comes to take the endearing place,
+    A creature not beyond thy fond embrace.
+    Now let thy troops of kisses have their way,
+    Now let thy love with brooding murmur play;
+    Here is material tractable and tender,
+    Which waxen surface to soft touch shall render.
+    Hail, infant! gentle subject for caresses,
+    Employment sweet a mother's lips which blesses;
+    O hail; for with thy birth, thou golden boy,
+    Lo, to thy parents a third eye brings joy!        R. WI.
+
+
+VOTIVA DOMUS PETRENSIS
+
+PRO DOMO DEI.[128]
+
+    Ut magis in mundi votis aviumque querelis
+    Jam veniens solet esse dies, ubi cuspide prima
+    Palpitat, et roseo lux praevia ludit ab ortu;
+    Cum nec abest Phoebus, nec Eois laetus habenis
+    Totus adest, volucrumque procul vaga murmura mulcet:
+      Nos ita; quos nuper radiis afflavit honestis              6
+    Relligiosa dies; nostrique per atria coeli--
+    Sacra domus nostrum est coelum--jam luce tenella
+    Libat adhuc trepidae fax nondum firma diei:
+    Nos ita jam exercet nimii impatientia voti,                 10
+    Speque sui propiore premit.
+                                Quis pectora tanti
+    Tendit amor coepti, desiderio quam longo
+    Lentae spes inhiant, domus o dulcissima rerum,
+    Plena Deo domus! Ah, quis erit, quis, dicimus, ille--
+    O bonus, � ingens meritis, � proximus ipsi,                 16
+    Quem vocat in sua dona, Deo--quo vindice totas
+    Excutiant tenebras haec sancta crepuscula?
+                                                Quando,
+    Quando erit, ut tremulae flos heu tener ille diei,          20
+    Qui velut ex oriente suo jam altaria circum
+    Lambit, et ambiguo nobis procul anuit astro,
+    Plenis se pandat foliis, et lampade tota
+    Laetus, ut e medio cum sol micat aureus axe,
+    Attonitam penetrare domum bene possit adulto                25
+    Sidere, nec dubio pia moenia mulceat ore?
+      Quando erit, ut convexa suo quoque pulchra sereno
+    Florescant, roseoque tremant laquearia risu?
+    Quae nimium informis tanquam sibi conscia frontis
+    Perpetuis jam se lustrant lacrymantia guttis?               30
+      Quando erit, ut claris meliori luce fenestris
+    Plurima per vitreos vivat pia pagina vultus?
+      Quando erit, ut sacrum nobis celebrantibus hymnum
+    Organicos facili et nunquam fallente susurro
+    Nobile murmur agat nervos; pulmonis iniqui                  35
+    Fistula nec monitus faciat malefida sinistros?
+      Denique, quicquid id est quod res hic sacra requirit,
+    Fausta illa et felix--sitque � tua--dextra, suam cui
+    Debeat haec Aurora diem. Tibi supplicat ipsa,
+    Ipsa tibi facit ara preces. Tu jam illius audi,             40
+    Audiet illa tuas. Dubium est, modo porrige dextram,
+    Des magis, an capias: audi tantum esse beatus,
+    Et damnum hoc lucrare tibi.
+                                  Scis ipse volucres
+    Quae rota volvat opes; has ergo, hic fige perennis          45
+    Fundamenta Domus Petrensi in rupe, suamque
+    Fortunae sic deme rotam. Scis ipse procaces
+    Divitias quam prona vagos vehat ala per Euros;
+    Divitiis illas, age, deme volucribus alas,
+    Facque suus nostras illis sit nidus ad aras:                50
+    Remigii ut tandem pennas melioris adeptae,
+    Se rapiant, dominumque suum super aethera secum.
+      Felix � qui sic potuit bene providus uti
+    Fortunae pennis et opum levitate suarum,
+    Divitiisque suis aquilae sic addidit alas.                  55
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE PRAYER OF PETERHOUSE FOR THE HOUSE OF GOD [=ITS CHAPEL].
+
+    As bids the Day a keener longing stir
+    The waking world, and warblings cheerier
+    To birds inspires, when comes she o'er the hills,
+    As quivering dart the streaks of Morn, and thrills
+    Through lattic'd sky from roseate East the light
+    Presaging his approach; nor absent quite,
+    Nor glorying in his slacken'd reins, the Sun
+    Is present all; and birds, to music won
+    By gentle touch, are murmuring far and near,--
+    So we, on whom with radiance severe
+    A solemn day begins to dawn; whose eye
+    Now sees glide through the heavenly courts which lie,
+    With portals wide--God's house is heaven, we say--
+    The flame unsteady of still wavering Day
+    Slenderly stealing in; the prospect nigher,
+    Our hearts too labour with extreme desire,
+    And throb with hopes impatient of their end.
+      How love of such a work our heart doth rend!
+    How long desire makes hopes in leash restrain'd
+    To pant! O sweetest House, on which has rain'd
+    The torrent of God's fulness. Ah, who is he,
+    Ah, who--O good, O huge in charity,
+    O nigh to God Himself,--Whom to descend
+    On His own gracious gifts he prays--shall lend
+    This sacred twilight power to drive away
+    All gloom, and shake her raiment into day?
+    Ah, when, thou pitifully trem'lous bloom
+    Of glimmering Day, that as from bridal room
+    In the Orient cam'st to kiss our altar-stone,
+    And beckonest to us from a star alone,
+    In yonder distance shining doubtfully,--
+    Ah, when wilt thou expand to Day, and, free
+    In conscious joy of thy full splendour, pour
+    A flood of light, as when the Sun doth soar
+    In golden mid-day, and, to full age grown,
+    Shine through and through the pile, and make it own
+    With awe thy sway, nor let the sacred walls
+    Doubt thy embrace?
+                        Blest he to whom befalls
+    To see the vaulted roofs span their fair sky,
+    And break in flowers, while fretted ceilings lie
+    Trembling with rosy laughter; which do now,
+    As wearing of their shame a conscious brow,
+    Bedew their formless face with dropping tear.
+    When shall it be? the window growing clear
+    With better light, that many a page devout
+    May live, and life from glassy face breathe out.
+    Ah, when, as hymn of praise we celebrate,
+    Shall solemn-breathing murmur make vibrate
+    The organ's nerves with graceful ceaseless hum;
+    Nor pipe of lung unjust intruding come,
+    Each harsh, uncertain note for ever dumb?
+      Whatever else, in fine, this Sanctuary
+    May need, that right-hand bless'd and happy be,
+    And be it thine! to which the Dawn shall owe
+    Its day. The altar kneels to thee. Do thou
+    List to her prayer, and she will thine allow;
+    Stretch out thy laden hand, and doubtful live
+    Whether thou dost not more receive than give;
+    That thou art happy do thou only hear,
+    And turn thy loss to gain in yonder sphere.
+    Thou know'st what wheel makes riches fly away;
+    These riches therefore here securely lay,
+    Fountains of a House perennial,
+    On the Petrensian rock; from Fortune shall
+    Her own wheel thus be wrench'd. Thou knowest how prone
+    A wing bears up unconstant riches, blown
+    On vagrant, veering winds. Come, take away
+    These wings from fleeting riches, make them stay
+    At these our altars, and build here their nest;
+    Till arm'd with wings to better flight redress'd,
+    They may transport themselves to the home of rest,
+    Bearing their master with them.
+                                      Blest that man
+    Who knowing prudently the times to scan,
+    The airiness of wealth to profit brings,
+    And him on Fortune's pinions deftly flings,
+    And to his riches adds an eagle's wings.            S.S.
+
+
+
+
+IN CAETERORUM OPERUM
+
+DIFFICILI PARTURITIONE GEMITUS.[129]
+
+
+    O felix nimis illa, et nostrae nobile nomen
+    Invidiae volucris, facili quae funere surgens
+    Mater odora sui, nitidae nova fila juventae,
+    Et festinatos peragit sibi fata per ignes.
+    Illa, haud natales tot tardis mensibus horas                   5
+    Tam miseris tenuata moris, saltu velut uno
+    In nova secla rapit sese, et caput omne decoras
+    Explicat in frondes, roseoque repullulat ortu.
+    Cinnameos simul illa rogos conscenderit, omnem
+    Laeta bibit Phoebum, et jam jam victricibus alis              10
+    Plaudit humum cineresque suos.
+                              Heu, dispare fato
+    Nos ferimur; seniorque suo sub Apolline phoenix
+    Petrensis mater, dubias librata per auras
+    Pendet adhuc, quaeritque sinum in quo ponat inertes           15
+    Exuvias, spoliisque suae reparata senectae
+    Ore pari surgat, similique per omnia vultu.
+    At nunc heu nixu secli melioris in ipso
+    Deliquium patitur!
+    At nunc heu lentae longo in molimine vitae                    20
+    Interea moritur! Dubio stant moenia vultu
+    Parte sui pulchra, et fratres in foedera muros
+    Invitant frustra, nec respondentia saxis
+    Saxa suis; moerent opera intermissa, manusque
+    Implorant.                                                    25
+                  Succurre piae, succurre parenti,
+    O quisquis pius es. Illi succurre parenti,
+    Quam sibi tot sanctae matres habuere parentem.
+    Quisquis es, � tibi, crede, tibi tot hiantia ruptis
+    Moenibus ora loqui. Matrem tibi, crede verendam               30
+    Muros tam longo laceros senioque situque
+    Ceu canos monstrare suos. Succurre roganti.
+    Per tibi plena olim, per jam sibi sicca precatur
+    Ubera, ne desis senio. Sic longa juventus
+    Te foveat, querulae nunquam cessura senectae.                 35
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A GROAN
+
+ON OCCASION OF THE DIFFICULT PARTURITION OF THE REMAINING WORKS OF
+PETERHOUSE.
+
+    O bird too fortunate, whose glorious name
+    Fills us with envy of her happy fame,
+    Which by an easy death on soaring wing,
+    Sweet mother of herself, doth upwards spring,
+    Assumes afresh her shining youth's attire,
+    And wins new lease of life through hasten'd fire!
+    She--not through slow-revolving natal days
+    To a thin shadow worn by sad delays--
+    Transports herself into another round
+    Of centuries, as by a single bound;
+    With beauteous leaves her head she covers o'er,
+    And with a rosy birth shoots forth once more.
+    Soon as she climbs the spicy funeral pyre
+    Joyful she drinks the sun, and mounting higher,
+    Now, now the ground her wings victorious strike,
+    And her own ashes.
+                          But, alas, we follow
+    No such example. 'Neath her own Apollo,
+    Our Mother Peterhouse, now ancient grown,
+    Our ag�d Phoenix, hither, thither blown,
+    And balancing herself on doubtful air,
+    Hovers with wing uncertain, seeking where
+    Her relics she may lay, worn out with toils,
+    As in a nest, and from the very spoils
+    Of her own age renew'd, she may arise
+    In perfect comeliness of face and eyes,
+    As in the days of old, to mount the skies.
+      But now, alas, e'en in the very throes
+    Of her reviving age our Phoenix knows
+    And keenly feels a sad deficiency.
+    Alas, in life's long lingering effort she
+    Now in the mean while dies. Of doubtful face,
+    Her buildings seem in part bedeck'd with grace;
+    But elsewhere, heedless of inviting calls
+    To union, stand the unfinish'd brother walls.
+    On unresponsive ears the summons falls;
+    As stones to fellow-stones appealing turn,
+    The interrupted works together mourn,
+    And beg a helping hand. O, succour bring,
+    Whoe'er is pious, to the parent wing
+    Which shelter'd thee beneath its holy shade,
+    And gave so many mother churches[130] aid
+    Parental; O, be now thy help display'd.
+    Whoe'er thou art, the ruin'd courts to thee
+    With gaping mouths are speaking audibly.
+    Thy reverend mother would thine eyes engage
+    To view thy walls, dismantled long with age
+    And base neglect, and ponder her gray hair.
+    By the full breasts which once she offer'd thee,
+    By the dry breasts which she is doom'd to see
+    Now for herself, she cries imploringly:
+    'My age to help, O fail not to appear;
+    So may long-lasting youth thy bosom cheer,
+    Youth which complaining age shall never fear.'    R. WI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_more freely_).
+
+A LAMENT
+
+OVER THE SLOW RESTORATION OF PETERHOUSE-COLLEGE BUILDINGS.
+
+    O Phoenix, all-too-happy bird,
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Thou, thine own mother, from the pyre--
+    Spices mix'd with flickering fire--
+    Sweetly didst thy breath suspire;
+    Then rose again, and thy age gone
+    In a swift resurrection--
+    Gone! by wondrous mystic skill
+    Wearing a richer plumage still,
+    Youth renew'd from feet to bill,--
+    Thou didst not linger in thine age,
+    Nor a slow weary struggle wage,
+    With changing cures and long delay
+    Searching for life in every way.
+    No; but a quick fate self-choosing,
+    All hindering self-ruth refusing,
+    Thou didst raise thy funeral pyre,
+    Thou didst hovering i' the fire,
+    From amidst the perfum'd flame
+    Spring up, immortal as thy fame.
+    Thou didst lift thy comely head,
+    Ev'ry moulting feather shed;
+    Thou didst raise thy radiant breast
+    Blazing to the blazing West.
+    O Phoenix, thou'rt an awful bird;
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Climbing to thy funeral pyre,
+    Climbing self-martyr'd to the fire,
+    Sweetly there to bear thine ire;
+    Fetching down from the great sun
+    To pil�d nest of cinnamon
+    Rays intense; then upward winging,
+    Sudden from thine ashes springing;
+    Victorious by this quaint mewing,
+    Life strangely out of death renewing;
+    Now i' the red fire consuming,
+    Next at the sun thine eyes reluming.
+      Alas, how different is the fate
+    In this our later age, ingrate,
+    Of her, my mother-college, lying
+    All desolate and slowly dying;
+    Lifting but a feeble wing,
+    Though once, as Phoenix of the fire,
+    Springing immortal from its pyre;
+    When Apollo and the Graces
+    Reign'd where Ruin now defaces,
+    Gave her, when she shone in splendour,
+    Orator, sage, and poet tender;
+    Gave her sons, noble and good,
+    Better than the bluest blood:
+    O how chang'd, since those days olden
+    Such as in the ages golden,
+    I behold her, smitten, lorn,
+    And by every Fury torn,
+    Hanging in uncertain strife
+    As it were 'twixt death and life;
+    Doubting whether e'en she shall
+    Have so much as funeral;
+    Her corpse laid in some quiet bay,
+    Where the sea-waves softly play;
+    Willing they should take her bones--
+    Her time-stain'd, rent, and shatter'd stones;
+    If only thus but once again
+    Rebuilded, she might yet attain
+    To something of her old renown
+    By such resurrection,
+    And, phoenix-like, herself out-do
+    In her best days when she was new.
+    O ye sons, your mother own
+    In her desolation;
+    Own her, though in aging years
+    She shows few and thin gray hairs,
+    Where once,--ah--in brave times of old--
+    Flash'd her proud locks with sheen of gold.
+    Ah, Peter nam'd, thou art denied,
+    Thus is thy name verified.
+    'Tis a spectacle for tears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for fears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for wonder;
+    'Tis a crime deserves the thunder,
+    That from base to gold-touch'd ceiling
+    Day by day her halls are reeling;
+    Mullion'd window torn and rent,
+    And destruction imminent;
+    Everywhere such gaping wounds
+    As a stranger e'en astounds;
+    And what was in faith begun
+    Left in desolation;
+    Stone to stone in mute appealing,
+    Cold neglect and scorn revealing,
+    And the font of tears unsealing.
+    Sons of my Mother-College lying
+    All in ruins and slow dying,
+    If ye have aught of piety
+    Or least touch of charity,
+    Look on these broken walls, and see
+    Your mother in her misery;
+    Holding up, in vain appealing,
+    Wither'd hands, her woes revealing;
+    And in the rank growths tangled there
+    See her dishonour�d gray hair.
+      Woe is me, her genial breast,
+    Which so many sons has blest,
+    Each all welcoming that came,
+    Drawn by her renown�d name,
+    Wither'd, shrunk, can quench no thirst,
+    Ah, my heart with grief will burst.
+    To my dim eye there rises clear
+    The full tide that once roll'd here;
+    Now shingle, sand, and fest'ring mud
+    Tell of the far-refluent flood.
+      O, pity her, ye sons, and vow
+    Once more to crown your mother's brow;
+    Once more to rear her crumbling walls;
+    Once more to gather in her halls
+    The young, the brave, the true, the good,
+    The wise, the noble; and the Rood
+    Over all shall bless and keep;
+    So in old age ye shall not weep,
+    Nor ever shall your fair fame sleep.                  G.
+
+
+VENERABILI VIRO MAGISTRO TOURNAY,
+
+TUTORI SUO SUMME OBSERVANDO.
+
+    Messis inauravit Cereri jam quarta capillos,
+      Vitis habet Bacchum quarta corona suae,
+    Nostra ex quo, primis plumae vix alba pruinis,
+      Ausa tuo Musa est nidificare sinu.
+    Hic nemus, hic soles, et coelum mitius illi;                  5
+      Hic sua quod Musis umbra vel aura dedit.
+    Sedit ibi secura malus quid moverit Auster,
+      Quae gravis hibernum vexerit ala Jovem.
+    Nescio quo interea multum tibi murmure nota est:
+      Nempe sed hoc poteras murmur amare tamen.                  10
+    Tandem ecce, heu simili de prole puerpera! tandem
+      Hoc tenero tenera est pignore facta parens.
+    Jamque meam hanc sobolem, rogo, quis sinus alter haberet?
+      Quis mihi tam noti nempe teporis erat?
+    Sed quoque et ipsa meus, de te, meus, improba, tutor,        15
+      Quam primum potuit dicere, dixit, erit.
+    Has ego legitimae, nec laevo sidere natae
+      Non puto degeneres indolis esse notas;
+    Nempe quod illa suo patri tam semper apertos,
+      Tam semper faciles norit adire sinus.                      20
+    Ergo tuam tibi sume: tuas eat illa sub alas:
+      Hoc quoque de nostro, quod tuearis, habe.
+    Sic quae Suada tuo fontem sibi fecit in ore,
+      Sancto et securo melle perennis eat.
+    Sic tua, sic nullas Siren non mulceat aures,                 25
+      Aula cui plausus et sua serta dedit.
+    Sic tuus ille, precor, Tagus aut eat obice nullo,
+      Aut omni, quod adhuc, obice major eat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VENERABLE MAN MASTER TOURNAY,
+
+MY TUTOR MOST REVERED.[131]
+
+    A fourth time now our glebe for Ceres bears
+    The golden locks of harvest; Bacchus wears
+    Now the fourth season his bright vine-leaf crown,
+    Since, scant'ly hoar as yet with the soft down
+    Of her first plumage, in thy gentle breast
+    My young Muse dar'd to build herself a nest.
+    Here found she sun and shade and gentler heaven,
+    And what with these is by the Muses given
+    Were hers. Here sat she careless how the skies
+    Might darken, or the blasts of winter rise;
+    And here her voice reach'd thee, but by what move
+    Of fate I know not, only that thy love
+    Her voice did win; and now at length behold--
+    And ah, how much the child her arms enfold
+    Is like the mother!--she in tender years
+    The parent of a tender babe appears.
+    What lap, then, for this infant shall I find
+    Fitter than thine, or known by me so kind?
+    Yea, soon as she could speak, the wanton, she
+    Said, 'He shall be my guardian,' meaning thee;
+    And no ill forecast I would deem is this
+    Of Genius true and favouring deities,
+    That she so early should a sire divine
+    Always so open, always so benign.
+    Take, then, thine own--she is beneath thy wing--
+    And of this gift accept the offering.
+    So may Persuasion, who her fount has made
+    Upon thy lips, still pour from thence unstay'd
+    Her sacred honey; so be at the Court,
+    Whereto with plausive wreaths she doth resort,
+    No ears thy Siren move not; so, I pray,
+    No hindering bar thy Tagus strive to stay,
+    Or only such as erst thy stream has swept away.      CL.
+
+
+
+
+ORNATISSIMO VIRO PRAECEPTORI SUO
+
+COLENDISSIMO MAGISTRO BROOK.
+
+
+    O mihi qui nunquam nomen non dulce fuisti,
+      Tunc quoque cum domini fronte timendus eras;
+    Ille ego pars vestri quondam intactissima regni,
+      De nullo virgae nota labore tuae,
+    Do tibi quod de te per secula longa queretur,
+      Quod de me nimium non metuendus eras:
+    Quod tibi turpis ego torpentis inertia sceptri
+      Tam ferulae tulerim mitia jura tuae.
+    Scilicet in foliis quicquid peccabitur istis,
+      Quod tua virga statim vapulet, illud erit;
+    Ergo tibi haec poenas pro me mea pagina pendat.
+      Hic agitur virgae res tibi multa tuae.
+    In me igitur quicquid nimis illa pepercerit olim,
+      Id licet in foetu vindicet omne meo.
+    Hic tuus inveniet satis in quo saeviat unguis,
+      Quodque veru docto trans obeliscus eat:
+    Scilicet haec mea sunt; haec quas mala scilicet: � si,
+      Quae tua nempe forent, hic meliora forent!
+    Qualiacunque, suum norunt haec flumina fontem--
+      Nilus ab ignoto fonte superbus eat--
+    Nec certe nihil est qua quis sit origine. Fontes
+      Esse solent fluvii nomen honorque sui.
+    Hic quoque tam parvus, de me mea secula dicant,
+      Non parvi soboles hic quoque fontis erat.
+    Hoc modo et ipse velis de me dixisse: Meorum
+      Ille fuit minimus--sed fuit ille meus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THAT MOST CULTURED MAN,
+
+HIS MOST ESTIMABLE TUTOR MASTER BROOK.[132]
+
+    O thou, whose name to me was still endear'd
+    E'en when the master's brow was justly fear'd;
+    I, of thy realm the most inviolate part,
+    By touch of thy birch-rod ne'er taught to smart,
+    Give thee what through long years complains of thee
+    That thou wast not enough a fear to me;
+    That I, base subject of thy sceptre slow,
+    Thy ferule's milder sway should only know.
+    Sooth, in these leaves what faults soe'er thou see,
+    Thy rod in every case should punish'd be.
+    Then let this page for me the suffering pay;
+    Here certainly thy rod may have full play;
+    Howe'er that rod to me was once too mild,
+    It may revenge it all on this my child;
+    Here will thy nail discover where to rage,
+    And scratch a learn�d blot across the page.
+    These which are bad, forsooth, these things are mine;
+    Would they were better, that they might be thine!
+    Whate'er they are, these streams their fountain know,
+    Nile from an unknown fount may proudly go.
+    Not lightly what one's source may be we deem;
+    Fountains give name and honour to their stream.
+    So small--my times perhaps may say of me--
+    An offspring of no fountain small was he.
+    Only to say of me may it be thine:
+    'He was my least indeed--but he was mine!'        R. WI.
+
+
+IN REV. DRE. BROOKE EPITAPHIUM.[133]
+
+    Posuit sub ista, non gravi, caput terra
+    Ille, ipsa quem mors arrogare vix ausa
+    Didicit vereri, plurimumque suspenso
+    Dubitavit ictu, lucidos procul vultus,
+    Et sidus oris acre procul prospectans.
+    Cui literarum fama cum dedit lumen,
+    Accepit, atque est ditior suis donis.
+    Cujus serena gravitas faciles mores
+    Muliere novit; cujus in senectute
+    Famaeque riguit, et juventa fortunae.
+    Ita brevis aevi, ut nec videri festinus;
+    Ita longus, ut nec fessus. Et hunc mori credis?
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH ON REV. DR. BROOK.
+
+    Beneath this earth, strew'd lightly, lies the head
+    Of one whom Death himself had learnt to dread,
+    Scarce venturing to claim; and falter'd much
+    Ere he allow'd his threatening stroke to touch
+    That sacred presence. These bright eyes from far
+    He view'd; from far that face ray'd like a star.
+    On whom when fame of letters lustre drew,
+    He took it as his right, and richer grew
+    By his own gifts to learning; whose serene
+    Severity of manners seem'd to have been
+    Temper'd by woman's softness; whose good name,
+    In later as in early years the same,
+    Stood firm; his fortune equal to his fame.
+    His life so short, that not in haste he seem'd;
+    So long, that weary he might not be deem'd:
+    That such a one is dead, can it be dream'd?       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM IN GULIELMUM HERRISIUM.[134]
+
+
+    Siste te paulum, viator, ubi longum sisti
+    Necesse erit, huc nempe properare te scias quocunque properas.
+                  Morae pretium erit
+                  Et lacrymae,
+                  Si jacere hic scias
+                  Gulielmum
+              Splendidae Herrisiorum familiae
+                  Splendorem maximum:
+              Quem cum talem vixisse intellexeris,
+                  Et vixisse tantum;
+                  Discas licet
+                  In quantas spes possit
+                  Assurgere mortalitas,
+                  De quantis cadere.
+                { Infantem    Essexia     }
+          Quem  { Juvenem     Cantabrigia } vidit
+                  Senem, ah infelix utraque
+                  Quod non vidit.
+                    Qui
+                  Collegii Christi Alumnus
+                  Aulae Pembrokianae socius,
+              Utrique ingens amoris certamen fuit,
+                    Donec
+                  Dulciss. lites elusit Deus,
+                  Eumque coelestis collegii,
+                  Cujus semper alumnus fuit,
+                    socium fecit;
+              Qui et ipse collegium fuit,
+                    In quo
+              Musae omnes et Gratiae,
+                  Nullibi magis sorores,
+                  Sub praeside religione,
+              In tenacissimum sodalitium coaluere.
+               { Oratoria      Oratorem    }
+               { Poetica       Poetam      }
+          Quem { Utraque       Philosophum } agnovere.
+               { Christianum   Omnes       }
+
+               { Fide          Mundum      }
+               { Spe           Coelum      }
+          Qui  { Charitate     Proximum    } superavit.
+               { Humilitate    Seipsum     }
+                            Cujus
+              Sub verna fronte senilis animus,
+              Sub morum facilitate, severitas virtutis;
+        Sub plurima indole, pauci anni;
+        Sub majore modestia, maxima indoles
+              adeo se occuluerunt
+                  ut vitam ejus
+    Pulchram dixeris et pudicam dissimulationem:
+        Imo vero et mortem,
+        Ecce enim in ipso funere
+        Dissimulari se passus est,
+    Sub tantillo marmore tantum hospitem,
+        Eo nimirum majore monumento quo minore tumulo.
+    Eo ipso die occubuit quo Ecclesia
+        Anglicana ad vesperas legit,
+    Raptus est ne malitia mutaret intellectum ejus;
+        Scilicet Id. Octobris anno S. 1631.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH FOR WILLIAM HARRIS.
+
+    Stay thee a short space here, good passer-by,
+                            Upon thy way;
+    Wherein a little while thou too must lie,
+                            Haste as thou may.
+    Certes thou knowest that thy life-long quest
+    Leads hither--to the long, long sleep and rest:
+    Grudge thee not, then, the tribute of a tear,
+    Whilst, ling'ring, to this stone thou drawest near.
+                  It will reward thy stay,
+                It will thy tears repay,
+                        To know
+                        Below
+                        lies
+                        William,
+                Of the family of Harris,
+                The most splendid name
+                Where all have fame.
+    Knowing that such an one did live,
+      And how he liv'd--great, noble, wise--
+    Know how all mortal hopes are fugitive;
+      Height gauging depth with 'Here he lies.'
+               { As infant     Essex     }
+          Whom { As youth      Cambridge } saw.
+    Ah, miserable and lamenting both, that they
+    See not his golden locks in years grow gray!
+                            He was
+                  A student of Christ College,
+                  A fellow of Pembroke Hall:
+                          To have him
+    The two Colleges did strive
+                    In rivalry of love:
+    But the great God put in His negative,
+                    Calling him Above,
+                To gain ampler knowledge
+                In the Heavenly College,
+    Of which he was on earth a student consecrate;
+    So, when Death summon'd him, he went elate.
+                So wise his wit,
+                By genius lit,
+                In himself alone
+                Many in one,
+            You had a College, where
+            Graces and Muses fair
+            With Religion, you might see
+            Twin'd hand in hand in amity.
+
+          { Eloquence as an   Orator      }
+          { Poetry as a       Poet        }
+    Whom  { Each as a         Philosopher } owned:
+          { All as a          Christian   }
+
+          { By faith the      world       }
+          { By hope           Heaven      }
+      Who { By love his       fellow-men  } conquered;
+          { By himself        himself     }
+
+                      Of whom
+    The ripen'd mind under a youthful face;
+    Severest virtue under courtliest grace;
+    Few years his, yet mellow'd as in age;
+    A modesty that did all hearts engage:
+    These self-reveal'd and self-revealing,
+    That all his life seem'd but a fine concealing.
+
+      Yea, ev'n in his death 'twas so;
+      For being thus at length laid low,
+      He chose no boastful tomb to tell
+      How good the life that in him fell:
+        By so much greater is the guest,
+        Smaller the mound where he doth rest:
+        Yea, in his death there was diminution:
+      Great was the guest, but see how small the stone.
+      On that very day he died in which the
+      Church of England reads its even-song:
+      He was snatch'd away, lest the wickedness
+    of the times should contaminate his understanding,
+                viz. 15th October A.S. 1631.[135]
+
+
+IN EUNDEM SCAZON.[136]
+
+    Huc, hospes, oculos flecte, sed lacrimis caecos,
+    Legit optime haec, quem legere non sinit fletus.
+    Ars nuper et natura, forma, virtusque
+    Aemulatione fervidae, paciscuntur
+    Probare uno juvene quid queant omnes,
+    Fuere tantae terra nuper fuit liti,
+    Ergo huc ab ipso Judicem manent coelo.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+    Stranger, bend here thine eyes, but dim with tears;
+    Whom weeping blinds, best reader here appears.
+    Art, Nature, Beauty, Virtue, all agree,
+    Contending late with a warm rivalry,
+    To show what in one youth all join'd would be.
+    So great the strife they caus'd on earth of late,
+    That here from heaven itself the Judge they wait.  R. WI.
+
+
+IN PICTURAM REVERENDISSIMI EPISCOPI
+
+D. ANDREWS.[137]
+
+    Haec charta monstrat, fama quem monstrat magis,
+    Sed et ipsa necdum fama quem monstrat satis;
+    Ille, ille totam solus implevit tubam,
+    Tot ora solus domuit, et famam quoque
+    Fecit modestam: mentis igneae pater
+    Agilique radio lucis aeternae vigil,
+    Per alta rerum pondera indomito vagus
+    Cucurrit animo, quippe naturam ferox
+    Exhausit ipsam mille foetus artibus,
+    Et mille linguis ipse se in gentes procul
+    Variavit omnes, fuitque toti simul
+    Cognatus orbi, sic sacrum et solidum jubar
+    Saturumque coelo pectus ad patrios libens
+    Porrexit ignes: hac eum, lector, vides
+    Hac, ecce, charta � utinam et audires quoque.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+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. G.
+
+
+A.
+
+Acidalian, ii. 22.
+
+Adult'rous, ii. 144.
+
+Alas, i. 181.
+
+All-Hallow, ii. 59.
+
+All-mischiefe, ii. 59.
+
+Alps, ii. 32.
+
+Ambush, i. 90.
+
+Apricockes, i. 269.
+
+Archer [badly misprinted 'anchor'], i. 176.
+
+Assyrian, ii. 30.
+
+
+B.
+
+Baal-zebub, i. 133.
+
+Bilbilician, ii. 26.
+
+Black-fac'd, ii. 41.
+
+Blossome, i. 28, 207.
+
+Bottles, i. 15.
+
+Brag, ii. 35.
+
+Breakfast, i. 15.
+
+Brisk, i. 15.
+
+Bud, i. 93.
+
+Bulla, ii. 245, 251.
+
+Buried, ii. 72.
+
+
+C.
+
+Cadence, i. 17.
+
+Calls 't, i. 16.
+
+Canary scribblers, i. xlviii.
+
+Case, i. 15.
+
+Cast, ii. 184.
+
+Cast away, ii. 43.
+
+Ceaze, i. 214.
+
+Chaplaine [of Virgin], i. xv.
+
+Cherrimock, i. 267.
+
+Child, ii. 28-9.
+
+Clouds [mortal], i. 90.
+
+Crawles, i. 14.
+
+Cruzzle, i. 15.
+
+
+D.
+
+Deaw, i. 15.
+
+Deliquium, i. 89.
+
+Devil, speaking and dumbe, ii. 140.
+
+Divident, i. 24.
+
+Doome, i. xvi.
+
+
+E.
+
+Ease, i. 15.
+
+Epigram, sacred, ii. 13.
+
+
+F.
+
+Faithful, i. 16.
+
+Fides, ii. 101.
+
+Flight, i. 258.
+
+Fly, i. 175.
+
+Food, ii. 41.
+
+Forlorne, ii. 41.
+
+Forswearing, i. 133.
+
+Fragrant, i. 157.
+
+Fries, i. 118.
+
+Frighted, ii. 144.
+
+Froward, ii. 137.
+
+Full-fac't, ii. 53.
+
+
+G.
+
+Gaie, ii. 43.
+
+Gloomy, ii. 41.
+
+Gold, i. 16.
+
+Golden, ii. 45.
+
+Groves, i. 93.
+
+
+H.
+
+Heaven-burthen'd, ii. 36.
+
+Horn [guilded], i. 89.
+
+Husband-showrs, i. 74.
+
+
+I.
+
+Illustrious, i. 239.
+
+Indifferent, i. 89.
+
+Ite, i. 169.
+
+
+K.
+
+Kist, i. 89.
+
+
+L.
+
+Laces, i. 78.
+
+Large-look't, i. 233.
+
+Least and last, i. 89.
+
+Legible, i. 89.
+
+Lightness, ii. 46.
+
+Lin'age, i. 119.
+
+Looke up, looke downe, ii. 69.
+
+
+M.
+
+May balsame, i. 15.
+
+Med'cinable, i. 15.
+
+Mint, i. 16.
+
+
+N.
+
+Negotiate, i. 90.
+
+Nest, i. 78.
+
+Nightening, i. 43.
+
+Nuzzeld, i. 15.
+
+
+O.
+
+Oblique, i. 90.
+
+Officious, i. 75.
+
+One-mouth'd, ii. 46.
+
+One, owne, i. 24.
+
+
+P.
+
+Paire, i. 17.
+
+Paradise, bird of, i. xv.
+
+Paramours, i. 78.
+
+Pearle-tipt, ii. 79.
+
+Pharian, i. 54.
+
+Phosporos, i. 118.
+
+Points, i. 75.
+
+Posts, i. 123.
+
+Precocious, ii. 12.
+
+Price=prize, i. 90.
+
+Prouoke, i. 16.
+
+Purple, ii. 164.
+
+Pyx, ii. 27.
+
+
+R.
+
+Rampart, i. 253.
+
+Rape, ii. 144.
+
+Rub, i. 68.
+
+
+S.
+
+Sages [sue], i. 92-3.
+
+Sanite, i. 13.
+
+Score, ii. 123.
+
+Seized, i. xlv.
+
+Send, ii. 35.
+
+Seven shares and a half, i. xlvi.
+
+Shadow ['brighter'], i. 91.
+
+Shipwrack, ii. 49.
+
+Silver-forded, footed, i. 14.
+
+Silver-tipt, ii. 144.
+
+Simpering, i. 17.
+
+Sixpenny soule, suburb sinner, i. xlvii.
+
+Sluttish, i. 18.
+
+Staine, ii. 99.
+
+Steely, i. 227.
+
+Stooped, i. 240.
+
+Strings, i. 140.
+
+Subtracts, ii. 12.
+
+Sugar, i. 179.
+
+Sydn�an, i. 256.
+
+
+T.
+
+Then=than, i. 24, _et frequenter_.
+
+Thinne, i. 177.
+
+Threasure, i. 9.
+
+Tree=cross, i. 24, 46.
+
+Trims't, ii. 123.
+
+Twin'd, i. 242.
+
+
+U.
+
+Uncontrouled, i. 242.
+
+Unpearcht, i. 68.
+
+Unwounded, ii. 49.
+
+
+V.
+
+Veronian, ii. 25.
+
+Violls, i. 5. 15.
+
+
+W.
+
+Washt, ii. 81.
+
+Wayd, i. 46.
+
+Wee, i. 14.
+
+White, i. 149; ii. 41, 165.
+
+Wine, i. 28.
+
+Worm, i. 119.
+
+Wrack, ii. 137.
+
+  END OF VOL. II.
+
+
+  Finis.
+
+
+  LONDON:
+
+  ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Crashaw's version is inadvertently inserted here instead of at p.
+201. G.
+
+[2] 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).
+
+[3] Not to be confounded with Handsworth in Staffordshire, or Hensworth
+near Doncaster.
+
+[4] 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.
+
+[5] Mr. Hunter cannot have gone about his inquiries at Handsworth with
+his usual persistence, for he says (as _supra_), '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.
+
+[6] 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.
+
+[7] His Will, as before.
+
+[8] 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.
+
+[9] Communicated to me by Professor Mayor, of Cambridge.
+
+[10] On Alvey, see Brook's Puritans, ii. 85-6.
+
+[11] 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 _of her husband's elder sonne_. 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.'
+
+[12] 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:
+
+    'Her time was short, the longer is her rest;
+    God takes them soonest whom He loveth best;
+    For he that's borne to-day and dyes to-morrow
+    Looseth some dayes of ioy, but yeares of sorrow.'
+
+A fragment of it is in the Dr. Farmer Chetham MS. (as edited by us).
+
+[13] 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.
+
+[14] 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.
+
+[15] 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.'
+
+[16] 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 Reformat�, quam
+Filius ejus Ric. Crashaw, injuriis vexatus, pressus inopia, Patria
+extorris, et complexu Matris Ecclesi� avulsus, abjuravit.'
+
+[17] The passage occurs in his Sermon before 'Lord Lawarre' on setting
+out for Virginia (see its title-page _ante_). 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, _and that God
+accounts it abomination for a man to put on woman's apparel_, 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.
+
+[18] 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.
+
+[19] 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.
+
+[20] '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 MS.
+
+[21] 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.
+
+[22] 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.
+
+[23] 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.e._ 20 Oct. 1627] titulum obtinet eodem anno. An. 1632
+Pr�dicator Academi�. An. 1634, Thesaurarius Junior et S. Theologi�
+Baccalaureus. Thesaurarius Senior an. 1635, et Attornatus Collegii cum
+Mro Vaughan in negotiis collegium quocunque modo spectantibus.'
+
+[24] 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 Plumtr� Schol� public� de
+Brentwood Archididasculo, admissus Mar. 2, 1623, �tatis 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. Optim� spei
+juvenis.' He may have died of the plague (cf. Cooper's 'Annals of
+Cambridge,' iii. 243). (From Mr. Wright, as before.)
+
+[25] 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.
+
+[26] The whole �, pp. 34-37, is full of anecdote and of rare interest,
+and sorrowfully confirmatory of Crashaw's words.
+
+[27] I find I cannot spare room for Cowley's own separate poem on Hope.
+It is in all the editions of his Poems.
+
+[28] 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, _s.n._). Buckingham's mother was
+a fervent Catholic, and here his 'sister,' _i.e._ 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 _supra_).
+
+[29] 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.'
+
+[30] 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: _e.g._ '_Dread Sweet_' (l. 236), and the
+superb 'Something a _brighter shadow_, 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:
+
+    'Awake, my soul, and come away!
+          Put on thy best array;
+          Least if thou longer stay,
+    Thou lose some minitts of so blest a day.
+          Goe run,
+    And bid good-morrow to the sun;
+    Welcome his safe return
+          To Capricorn;
+    And that great Morne
+    Wherein a God was borne,
+    Whose story none can tell,
+    But He whose every word's a miracle.'
+
+  (Our ed. of Bp. Taylor's Poems, pp. 22-3.)
+
+_En passant_, 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.
+
+[31] Cf. vol. i. p. 143.
+
+[32] Like Macaulay in his History of England (1st edition), Dr.
+Macdonald by an oversight speaks of Crashaw as 'expelled from _Oxford_,'
+instead of Cambridge (cf. our vol. i. p. 32).
+
+[33] The Letter of Pope to Mr. Henry Cromwell is in all the editions of
+his Correspondence. Willmott (as before) also gives it _in extenso_. 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.
+
+[34] He also quotes, as complete in themselves and 'best alone,' these
+two lines from No. LI.:
+
+    'This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given;
+    Twas once _look up_, 'tis now look down to heaven.'
+
+Dr. Robert Wilde in his Epitaph upon E.T. has the same idea, and puts it
+quaintly:
+
+    'Reader, didst thou but know what sacred dust
+    Thou tread'st upon, thou'dst judge thyself unjust
+    Shouldst thou neglect a shower of tears to pay,
+    To wash the sin of thy own feet away.
+    That actor in the play, who, looking down
+    When he should cry 'O heaven!' was thought a clown
+    And guilty of a solecism, might have
+    Applause for such an action o'er this grave.
+    Here lies a piece of Heaven; and Heaven one day
+    Will send the best in heaven to fetch't away.'
+
+  (Hunt's edition, p. 30.)
+
+[35] 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:
+
+    La nymphe de ces eaux aper�ut J�sus-Christ,
+    Et son pudique front de rougeur se couvrit.'
+
+    The nymph of these waters perceived Jesus Christ,
+    And her modest brow was dyed with shame.
+
+(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
+
+    'Vidit et erubuit nympha pudica Deum.'
+
+'Lympha' is inferior, and a (mis)reading for 'nympha.'
+
+[36] From _Prolusiones_ of Strada.
+
+[37] 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.
+
+[38] 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.
+
+    'They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch.'
+
+(N. and Q. 2d S. v. 449-52.)
+
+[39] 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.'
+
+[40] See our Essay for notice of Lany. G.
+
+[41] See our Essay in the present volume for notices of Lany. G.
+
+[42] Perhaps a virgin-priestess being dedicated is intended. G.
+
+[43] Balaami asinus. CR.
+
+[44] By a singular misprint Barksdale thus reads:
+
+    'The thief which bless'd upon the Cross with Me,' &c. G.
+
+[45] Barksdale thus renders the first couplet:
+
+    'Magdalen! thou prevent'st the morning light; =anticipatest
+    But thy Sun was already in thy sight.'                G.
+
+[46] Phil. i. 23, {t�n epithymian ech�n eis to analysai}.
+
+[47] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'All things subside by their own weight: I think
+    Thy lightness only, Peter, makes thee sink.'
+
+[48] Christi scilicet. C. [The reference is to a runaway slave, whose
+punishment would be crucifixion. G.]
+
+[49] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'After so many miracles done well,
+    He that believes not is a miracle.'
+
+[50] Query: Is there a punning-play on Judas' 'All Hail' (_i.e._ All
+Hallow) before the Betrayal? G.
+
+[51] Cf. Crashaw's own hitherto unpublished poem, amplifying the
+epigram, in 'Airelles,' vol. i. pp. 185-6. G.
+
+[52] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Thou receiv'st and receiv'st not Christ; for He
+    Comes not into thy house, but into thee.'
+
+[53] Barksdale, as before, translates the last couplet thus:
+
+    'Enough! I have seen, have seen my Saviour:
+    Beside Thee, Christ, I would see nothing more.'
+
+[54] Joan. vii. 46.
+
+[55] Cf. our vol. i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[56] See vol. i. pp. 47-8, for Crashaw's own poem enlarging the
+epigram.  G.
+
+[57] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'That Saul was blind, I will not say:
+    Sure Saul was _captus lumine_.'
+
+[58] Ver. 24. Non enim mortua est puella, sed dormit. CR.
+
+[59] For Crashaw's own full rendering of this epigram, see our vol. i.
+pp. 48-9. G.
+
+[60] Barksdale thus renders one couplet:
+
+    'See, O my guests, a Deity is here:
+    The chast nymph saw a God, and blusht for fear.'
+
+For Dryden's and others, see our Essay in this volume. G.
+
+[61] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'To see Christ was first in my desire:
+    Next, having seen Thee, forthwith to expire.'
+
+[62] Barksdale, as before, inserts an anonymous epigram on the same
+subject as _supra_, being the only one not by Crashaw in the volume. It
+is as follows: '40. Mulier Canaanitis. Matt. 15. _Femina tam fortis,
+&c._
+
+    'O woman, how great is that faith of thine!
+    _Fides_ more than a grammar's feminine.'
+
+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: _Hic mulier_ ere long will be good Latin'
+(pp. 5, 6). G.
+
+[63] For Crashaw's own rendering of this epigram or poem, see our vol.
+i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[64] Cf. St. Matt. iv. 3. G.
+
+[65] Joan. xix. 41. {en h� oudep� oudeis eteth�} CR.
+
+[66] Ver. 2. {seismos egeneto megas.} CR.
+
+[67] Ver. 4. {eseisth�san hoi t�rountes, kai egenonto h�sei nekroi.} CR.
+
+[68] Barksdale, as before, renders the closing couplet thus:
+
+    'Is He the Christ? And the inquiry is
+    Of Himself? Why, the dumb can answer this.'
+
+[69] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[70]
+
+    Or--To the Jews it is not fire,
+        Yet the name best tells Heav'n's ire.    G.
+
+[71] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'Most worthy nest this for the Bird above;
+    Most worthy of this nest is th' holy Dove.' G.
+
+[72] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[73] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'These loaves of Christ are well bestow'd: if fed
+    With these, they hunger after living bread.' G.
+
+[74] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'By your opposing force, Greeks, what is meant?
+    That you have no convincing argument.' G.
+
+[75] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[76] Barksdale, as before, renders the opening couplet. G.
+
+[77] = reckoning or debt to be paid. G.
+
+[78] By an oversight Willmott renders _ora_ 'regions' instead of
+'eyes.'  G.
+
+[79] Barksdale thus renders the second couplet:
+
+    'This house a stable! No: Thy bless�d birth,
+    Jesus, converts it to a heaven on earth.'      G.
+
+[80] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'John is Christ's flame; Domitian, in thine ire,
+    Canst thou e'er hope with oil to extinguish fire?'    G.
+
+[81] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'Do, Dragon, do, thy snakes together call,
+    That by Christ's virtue they may perish all.'      G.
+
+[82] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Shine forth, my Sun: soon as Thy beams are felt,
+    Thy gracious healing beams, my snow will melt.'      G.
+
+[83] Ver. 31. Sustulerunt lapides. CR.
+
+[84] ... Et continuo exivit sanguis et aqua. CR.
+
+[85] Act. i. Nubes susceptum eum abstulit. CR.
+
+[86] Crashaw must have stopped short in his Greek version of the present
+and succeeding epigram. G.
+
+[87] Rev. i. 16. CR.
+
+[88] Is the allusion to Peter's following 'afar off,' and after-denial
+of the Lord? G.
+
+[89] The allusion in l. 5 is to wrestlers anointing themselves to
+prevent their adversaries grasping them. R. WI.
+
+[90] 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.
+
+[91] This was overlooked in its proper place as Crashaw's own rendering
+of Epigram VI. p. 39. G.
+
+[92] LVI. and LVII. from Tanner MSS., as before. G.
+
+[93] Ecclesia. CR.
+
+[94] Cf. Wordsworth's 'A faculty for storms' ('Happy Warrior'). G.
+
+[95] MS. 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 MS. G.
+
+[96] I have ventured to supply a connecting line in place of the
+pentameter here dropt out; which might have been something like this:
+
+    'Inque brevi vita splendida facta micent.' R. WI.
+
+[97] From 'The Recommendation' illustration in 'Carmen D. nostro'
+(Paris, 1652). See vol. i. in 4to, p. 43. G.
+
+[98] See Illustration (in 4to) by Mrs. Blackburn to ll. 13-14 as
+vignette in Essay. G.
+
+[99] Query, in the heading (Latin), 'In Apolline_m_'? but 'Apolline_a_'
+is in all the texts. G.
+
+[100] 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.
+
+[101] In agro Sudovolgorum.
+
+[102] Nomen Elda (_Cancrorum idiomate_) [backwards].
+
+[103] Pretium annuum haud invidendum, XX_s._
+
+[104] Patibulo, quod tribus constat lignis, arrectariis binis, et trabe
+transversa.
+
+[105] Quattuor, quia equus quadrupes videbatur in eam sententiam quasi
+pedibus ire.
+
+[106] Vulgo acquietantia.
+
+[107] Organum est librite hydrobapticum ad omnium ripas situm, lingu�
+fervore refrigerando.
+
+[108] The Common Pleas in Westminster Hall.
+
+[109] A writ.
+
+[110] The return of the writ [the morrow of All Souls].
+
+[111] The plaintiff.
+
+[112] 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!
+
+[113] It is not easy to bring-out the play on _terga dabit_--'terga
+dare' being equivalent to 'fugere'--and yet indicative of the boy's
+punishment on the back of the whipping-horse.
+
+[114] Alluding to Pegasus, and the fountain caused by stroke of hoof.
+
+[115] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i., and our Essay in the present
+Volume, for notices of Brooke. G.
+
+[116] 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.
+
+[117] '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, _John Mansel_, Doctor of Divinitie, and a generall schollare
+in all good literature." (Weever, _Fun. Mon._ 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
+(MS. 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.
+
+[118] See notice of Heath in note to the translation. G.
+
+[119] '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 '_Lord_ 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.
+
+[120] 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.
+
+[121] The following is a note of Charles I.'s family:
+
+Charles James, born May 13, 1628; died same day.
+
+Charles, born May 29, 1630; afterwards Charles II.
+
+Mary, born November 4, 1631; afterwards mother of William III.
+
+James, born October 14, 1633; afterwards James II., probably the unborn
+child of this poem.
+
+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,
+_s.n._).
+
+Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; died December 8, 1640.
+
+Henry, born July 8, 1640; afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of
+Cambridge.
+
+Henrietta-Anne, born June 16, 1644. G.
+
+[122] 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.
+
+[123] See note to preceding poem. From Voces Votiv� &c. (see Preface to
+this volume). G.
+
+[124] From 'Delights of the Muses,' 1648, pp. 47-8; not in Turnbull. G.
+
+[125] Turnbull gives simply as the heading 'Natales Principis Mariae.'
+The date is Nov. 4, 1631. This Princess was born Nov. 4, 1631. G.
+
+[126] From Tanner MS., as before; hitherto unprinted. See note to
+preceding poem. G.
+
+[127] 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.
+
+[128] On 'Peterhouse' see our Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and Essay
+in the present volume. G.
+
+[129] See Memorial-Introd. vol. i., and Essay in the present vol. as
+below. G.
+
+[130] Apparently the churches in the gift of the College. W.
+
+[131] 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.
+
+[132] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and our Essay, for notices of
+Brooke; also present volume for other poems, &c. addressed to him. G.
+
+[133] 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 _ante_. G.
+
+[134] 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.
+
+[135] 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.
+
+[136] From 'Delights of the Muses,' after 'Upon the Death of Mr. Herrys'
+(of vol. i. pp. 220-1). Not given by Turnbull. G.
+
+[137] For Crashaw's own translation of this see vol. i. p. 217. G.
+
+
+
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+<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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</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> &amp;c. &amp;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. Pre�minently 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&mdash;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">&#931;&#965;&#957;&#8179;&#948;&#8055;&#945;</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 co�perated 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,' &amp;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,&mdash;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,'
+&amp;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&mdash;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: [&#8224;] printed for first time:
+[&#8225;] 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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_17">17. When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">46</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G., A.</td><td align="right">49</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">53</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_31">31. But though He had done so many miracles, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">56</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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, &amp;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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_58">58. Why are ye troubled? Behold My hands, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_59">59. The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_60">60. From his body there were brought ... handkerchiefs, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">76</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_69">69. The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">81</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_82">82. Is it lawful to give tribute to C�sar?</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">88</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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 C�sar ... 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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_88">88. Except I shall put my fingers, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">91</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_95">95. Lo, we have sought Thee, &amp;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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_97">97. The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant, &amp;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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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, &amp;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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_113">113. The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">106</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_114">114. John sends to Jesus, &amp;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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_124">124. St. Paul healing the lame man with a word, &amp;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">&#8225;</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, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G., B.</td><td align="right">116</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_137">137. The blind confessing Christ, &amp;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, &amp;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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_141">141. The man with the withered hand, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">123</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_151">151. On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">130</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_153">153. They brought unto Him all sick people, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">131</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_161">161. They teach customs, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">138</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">*&#8225;</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, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span></td><td align="right">140</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_171">171. On the day of the Lord's Resurrection, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">A.</td><td align="right">146</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_175">175. I am the Way, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">150</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_180">180. What man of you having an hundred sheep, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">161</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">*&#8225;</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">*&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_1_182">182. The blind men having received their sight, &amp;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, &amp;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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_8">8. Look on the lilies, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">173</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_11">11. I send you as lambs, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">174</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_15">15. On the birth of the Lord, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">176</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_18">18. The departure of Christ lamented, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">178</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;</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">&#8224;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_22">22. Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">181</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_24">24. To Domitian, concerning St. John, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">183</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_27">27. On St. Peter casting away his nets, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">184</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_28">28. The Lamb of God, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">185</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_30">30. Lord, not my feet only, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">186</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_31">31. Though they beheld so many miracles, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">186</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_37">37. Wherefore sitteth your Master with sinners, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">191</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_38">38. Miracles of healing, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">191</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_41">41. Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_43">43. He besought that He would go with him, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_44">44. For dread came upon him, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">196</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_47">47. The Pharisees insidiously watching, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">199</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_48">48. Touched the hem of His garment, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">200</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_54">54. Upon our Saviour's tombe, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cr.</span>, G.</td><td align="right">204</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#V1_2_55">55. On the Holy Spirit descending, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">205</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8224;</td><td align="left"><a href="#PSALMUS_I">Psalm 1.</a></td><td></td><td align="right">221</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#AENEAS_PATRIS_SUI_BAJULUS">�neas the bearer of his father</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">283</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#PHOENICIS_GENETHLIACON_ET_EPICEDION">Of the generation and regeneration of the Ph&#339;nix</a></td><td align="left">G.</td><td align="right">284</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#AD_LIBRUM">To a Tractate on this subject, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">315</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#HONORATISSIMO_DR_ROBERTO_HEATH">To the Right Hon. Lord Robert Heath, on being made a judge, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">R. Wi.</span></td><td align="right">326</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8224;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8224;&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</td><td align="left"><a href="#VENERABILI_VIRO_MAGISTRO_TOURNAY">To the venerable man, Master Tournay, &amp;c.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Cl.</span></td><td align="right">371</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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">&#8225;</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&mdash;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'&mdash;once couched among green fields
+and hedge-row 'lanes,' though now blighted and begrimed&mdash;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'&mdash;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&mdash;described
+as of Hansworth-Woodhouse, a hamlet of
+Hansworth&mdash;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 D�a
+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.' &amp;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,
+&amp;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&mdash;mother
+of Richard, our 'sweet Singer'&mdash;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&mdash;who 'vseth,'
+the Memorial says, 'to be very wary and modeste in commendation'&mdash;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>&mdash;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&mdash;for he was a scholar
+among scholars&mdash;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, &amp;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'
+(Scotic�), 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&mdash;in addition to our note of the intensified
+after title-pages <i>by others</i>&mdash;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&mdash;his Will having
+been 'proved' 16th October in that year&mdash;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&mdash;one very long to Sir Julius C�sar 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.
+Bononi� &amp;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 Anim� 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 interr�d in a little tombe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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&mdash;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 unfain�d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Orthodoxall, true, unstain�d.<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 wither�d;<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 chas�d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I from Ruin's clawes releas�d,<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&mdash;<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 crook�d, great nor small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to Christ conform�d all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blessed towne, divinely grac�d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a rocke so strongly plac�d,<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&mdash;keeping
+back many things and notices that have gathered in our
+note-books&mdash;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'&mdash;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,' &amp;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'&mdash;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&mdash;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">. &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; .<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. &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; .<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&mdash;(<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'&mdash;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 �olian 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&mdash;as an intended
+help-meet to Faith&mdash;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&mdash;and to such as Crashaw&mdash;the
+sensible, the visible, the actually looked-at&mdash;sanctified
+with the hoar of centuries&mdash;light up and etherealise. Contemporary
+records show that the chapel of Peterhouse&mdash;Crashaw's
+college&mdash;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&mdash;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,' &amp;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 c&#339;li." 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)&mdash;Cosin,
+Wren, Shelford, Tournaye, Andrewes&mdash;they at once suggest
+ritualistic, if not Roman Catholic, proclivities.</p>
+
+<p>Thus from all sides came potent influences of personal
+friendship&mdash;of his friends and associates more onward&mdash;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&mdash;saw
+not The Man&mdash;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&mdash;frail, timorous, shrinking, rather&mdash;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&mdash;ill-instructed possibly, yet true to its light,
+if true also to feelings that ought to have been wrestled
+with, not succumbed to&mdash;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
+&#339;cumenical 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
+Mec�nas, 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&mdash;(<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&mdash;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&mdash;these too being of stronger will,
+and decisive in opinion and action&mdash;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&mdash;</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 pr�ceptori 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&mdash;sometimes
+Laney, as in Masson's Milton (i. 97)&mdash;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&mdash;so carelessly overlooked, if not
+impudently suppressed, by Turnbull&mdash;first published by
+Crashaw in the volume of 1648, viz. 'Fides, qu� 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&mdash;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'&mdash;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&mdash;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 Votiv�.' 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&mdash;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&mdash;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'&mdash;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&mdash;as dowager-countess&mdash;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,&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;every way a memorable woman&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;as he might have
+done&mdash;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'&mdash;superb, awful, God-crowned&mdash;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,'&mdash;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&mdash;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>abas�d</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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love's eastern windowes&mdash;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">. &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; .<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&mdash;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&mdash;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">. &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; . &nbsp; .<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&mdash;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!&mdash;</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 �ternall 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&mdash;with exceptional discords&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 curs�d Pilate, villain dyed in grain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little water cannot purge thy stain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No, Tana�s 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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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>�lan</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-rebuk�d 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 pi� pu� 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 stoop�d 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 &amp;c. &amp;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 &amp;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">&#7936;&#960;&#8051;&#8164;&#8165;&#953;&#960;&#964;&#959;&#957;</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7936;&#960;&#8057;&#8164;&#8165;&#953;&#960;&#964;&#959;&#957;</span>; <span class="smcap">CXXI.</span> last line, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7956;&#951;&#957;</span>
+for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7956;&#951;</span>; <span class="smcap">CXXV.</span> line 5. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;'</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXX.</span> line 1 has <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#960;&#955;&#8049;&#957;&#951;</span>
+as if the penult were long instead of short, and <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7940;&#955;&#951;&#956;&#953;</span> an unused
+form, so that the line offends both quantity and usage&mdash;it
+might be amended thus, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#917;&#7991;&#962; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7952;&#947;&#8060;, &#8087; &#956;&#959;&#8059; &#964;&#949; &#960;&#955;&#8049;&#957;&#951; &#960;&#949;&#961;&#953;&#8134;&#947;&#949;&#957;,
+&#7936;&#955;&#8182;&#956;&#945;&#953;</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXXII.</span> line 1, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7952;&#960;&#8051;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#955;&#949;&#957;</span> for <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7952;&#960;&#8055;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#955;&#949;&#957;</span>; <span class="smcap">CLXXXIII.</span>
+line 2, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#963;&#965;&#954;&#8057;&#956;&#969;&#961;&#949;</span> should be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#963;&#965;&#954;&#8057;&#956;&#959;&#961;&#949;</span>, but altered for scansion;
+line 3, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7952;&#954;&#954;&#961;&#8053;&#956;&#957;&#951;&#962;</span> should perhaps be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7952;&#954;&#954;&#961;&#951;&#956;&#957;&#8048;&#962;</span>; line 4, unscanable;
+and in <span class="smcap">CXXV.</span> line 4, <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#948;&#945;&#963;&#8055;&#959;&#953;&#962;</span> should be <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#948;&#945;&#963;&#8051;&#963;&#953;&#957;</span>. <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#959;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#8056;&#962;</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">Cantabrigi�,<br />
+Ex Academi� celeberrim�<br />
+typographeo. 1634.</p>
+
+
+<p>This is a small duodecimo. Collation: Title-page&mdash;Epistle-dedicatory
+to <span class="smcap">Lany</span>, with the poems, 'Salve, alme custos Pierii
+gregis,' &amp;c.&mdash;Venerabili viro Magistro Tournay, Tutori suo
+summe observando&mdash;Ornatissimo viro Pr�ceptori suo colendissimo,
+Magistro Brook&mdash;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">Qu� scripsit Latina &amp; Gr�ca,<br />
+Dum <i>Aul� Pemb.</i> Alumnus fuit,<br />
+Et<br />
+Collegii <i>Petrensis</i> Socius.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+<p class="center">Editio Secunda, Auctior &amp; emendatior.</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p class="center"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#917;&#7989;&#957;&#949;&#954;&#949;&#957; &#949;&#8016;&#956;&#945;&#952;&#8055;&#951;&#962; &#960;&#953;&#957;&#965;&#964;&#8057;&#966;&#961;&#959;&#957;&#959;&#962;, &#7973;&#957; &#8001; &#924;&#949;&#955;&#953;&#967;&#961;&#8056;&#962;<br />
+&#7980;&#963;&#954;&#951;&#963;&#949;&#957;, &#924;&#959;&#965;&#963;&#8182;&#957; &#7940;&#956;&#956;&#953;&#947;&#945; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#935;&#945;&#961;&#8055;&#964;&#969;&#957;.      &#7944;&#957;&#952;&#959;&#955;.</span><br />
+<br />
+[Printer's ornament, as before.]</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p class="center">Cantabrigi�,<br />
+Ex Officina <i>Joan. Hayes</i>, Celeberrim� Academi�<br />
+Typographi. 1670.</p>
+
+<p>This is an 8vo. Collation: Title-page&mdash;and to Brook, as
+before; then these additional Latin poems: In Picturam Reverendissimi
+Episcopi D. Andrews&mdash;Votiva Dom�s Petrensis
+pro Domo Dei&mdash;In c�terorum Operum difficili Parturitione
+Gemitus&mdash;Epitaphium in Gulielmum Herrisium&mdash;In Eundem&mdash;Natalis
+Principis Mari�&mdash;In Serenissim� Regin� partum
+hyemalem&mdash;Natalis Ducis Eboracensis&mdash;In faciem Augustiss.
+Regis a morbillis integram&mdash;Ad Carolum Primum, Rex Redux&mdash;Ad
+Principem nondum natum, Regin� gravid�. Bastard-title,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span>
+'Epigrammata Sacra, qu� scripsit Gr�ca et Latina'&mdash;Lectori
+(as before), nine leaves: Epigrammata Sacra, pp. 67.</p>
+
+<p>The additions to the second edition&mdash;besides the Latin
+poems enumerated&mdash;were in the Epigrams these: No. 1, Pharisaeus
+et Publicanus, Greek version&mdash;No. 11, Obolum Vidu�,
+ib.&mdash;No. 53, Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus, ib.&mdash;No. 120, In
+descensum Spirit�s sancti, ib.&mdash;No. 124, In S. Columbam ad
+Christi caput sedentem, ib.&mdash;No. 141, Ad D. Lucam medicum,
+ib.&mdash;No. 148, In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus, ib.&mdash;No. 161,
+Hic lapis fiat panis, ib.&mdash;No. 177, In die Ascensionis Dominic�,
+ib.&mdash;No. 178, C�cus implorat Christum, Latin and Greek&mdash;No.
+179, Quis ex vobis, &amp;c. ib.&mdash;No. 180, Herodi D. Jacobum
+obtruncati, ib.&mdash;No. 181, C�ci receptis, &amp;c. ib.&mdash;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 Anglic�
+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&mdash;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 Gr�ca.' 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, me� <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, Ph&#339;be <i>for</i> Ph&#339;bo.</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> Dominic�.</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> D�mona.</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> virgine�.</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&mdash;flowers which are more likely to be pleasing
+from the very fact of their precocious importunity,&mdash;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&mdash;for it is even of such a graciousness&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 �monia'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 Ph&#339;bus 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-tress�d 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,&mdash;<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! � Domine! � 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, � 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 � 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
+� 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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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-dropp�d 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&mdash;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Verses that reck not of thy smarts&mdash;<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 bless�d 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,&mdash;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,&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;however pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">However fear, however weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with sweet tears its pages steep&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;although
+I shall name none personally&mdash;to have angrily
+abandoned me on account of some of my recent sayings.
+Still, let them compose their temper, and let them confess&mdash;may
+they pardon such a great saying from a forward
+young man!&mdash;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&mdash;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">&#7948;&#957;&#948;&#961;&#949;&#962;, &#7984;&#948;&#959;&#8058;, &#7953;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#959;&#953;&#963;&#953; &#957;&#8057;&#959;&#953;&#962;, &#948;&#8059;&#969; &#7985;&#961;&#8056;&#957; &#7952;&#963;&#8134;&#955;&#952;&#959;&#957;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#932;&#951;&#955;&#8057;&#952;&#949;&#957; &#8000;&#8164;&#8165;&#969;&#948;&#949;&#8150; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962; &#8001; &#966;&#961;&#953;&#954;&#945;&#955;&#8051;&#959;&#962;&#903;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7944;&#955;&#955;' &#8001; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#8033;&#962; &#963;&#959;&#946;&#945;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#957;&#951;&#959;&#8166; &#956;&#965;&#967;&#8056;&#957; &#7952;&#947;&#947;&#8058;&#962; &#7985;&#954;&#8049;&#957;&#949;&#953;&#903;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#928;&#955;&#949;&#8150;&#959;&#957; &#8001; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#957;&#951;&#959;&#8166;, &#960;&#955;&#949;&#8150;&#959;&#957; &#8001; &#948;' &#949;&#7990;&#967;&#949; &#920;&#949;&#959;&#8166;.</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 � 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 wilder�d<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&mdash;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>�thiops 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 �thiopem 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">&#922;&#949;&#961;&#956;&#945;&#964;&#8055;&#959;&#953;&#959; &#946;&#961;&#945;&#967;&#949;&#8150;&#945; &#8165;&#945;&#957;&#8054;&#962;, &#946;&#953;&#8057;&#964;&#959;&#953;&#8057; &#964;' &#7936;&#966;&#945;&#965;&#961;&#8134;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7965;&#961;&#954;&#959;&#962;, &#7936;&#960;&#959;&#963;&#964;&#8049;&#950;&#949;&#953; &#967;&#949;&#953;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#7936;&#960;&#8056; &#964;&#961;&#959;&#956;&#949;&#961;&#8118;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#932;&#959;&#8150;&#962; &#948;&#8050; &#7936;&#957;&#945;&#963;&#954;&#953;&#961;&#964;&#8119; &#960;&#959;&#955;&#8058;&#962; &#7936;&#966;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#7936;&#957;&#945;&#953;&#948;&#8051;&#959;&#962; &#8004;&#955;&#946;&#959;&#965;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#959;&#7985; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7936;&#960;&#8051;&#8164;&#8165;&#953;&#960;&#964;&#959;&#957;&#903; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#945; &#948;&#8051;&#948;&#969;&#954;&#949; &#956;&#8057;&#957;&#959;&#957;.<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&mdash;yet all her house and land&mdash;<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&mdash;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, �, 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, � 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&mdash;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 loos�d 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">&#963;&#954;&#969;&#955;&#951;&#954;&#8057;&#946;&#961;&#969;&#964;&#959;&#957;</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, &amp;c.</i> Matt. xiv.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Petre, cades, �, si dubitas: �, 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, &amp;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, &amp;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! � 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&mdash;ah, fell disease!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They're heal�d 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 heal�d now&mdash;ah, mind diseas'd!&mdash;<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, &amp;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, &amp;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, �, lacrymis, � 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, � 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, &amp;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&mdash;<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, � 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, �, 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, belov�d 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&mdash;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: � sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ponderis � 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&mdash;<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&mdash;arrangement fitter none&mdash;<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, � 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&mdash;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, � 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, � 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&mdash;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, � potius mini, candide, monstra:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ipsi, ipsi � 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">&#934;&#945;&#8055;&#948;&#953;&#956;&#8051;, &#956;&#959;&#953; &#945;&#8016;&#964;&#8056;&#957; &#956;&#8118;&#955;&#955;&#8057;&#957; &#956;&#959;&#953; &#948;&#949;&#8055;&#954;&#957;&#965;&#952;&#953; &#945;&#8016;&#964;&#8057;&#957;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#913;&#8016;&#964;&#8057;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#965;, &#948;&#8051;&#959;&#956;&#945;&#953;, &#945;&#8016;&#964;&#8056;&#962; &#7956;&#967;&#8131; &#948;&#8049;&#954;&#961;&#965;&#945;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#917;&#7984; &#948;&#8050; &#964;&#8057;&#960;&#959;&#957; &#956;&#959;&#8054; &#948;&#949;&#953;&#954;&#957;&#8059;&#957;&#945;&#953; &#7941;&#955;&#953;&#962; &#7952;&#963;&#964;&#8054;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#949;&#7984;&#960;&#949;&#8150;&#957;,</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#8047;&#948;&#949; &#964;&#949;&#8056;&#962;, &#924;&#945;&#961;&#953;&#8048;&#956;, &#7968;&#957;&#8055;&#948;&#949;, &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#964;&#959; &#7940;&#957;&#945;&#958;&#903;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7944;&#947;&#954;&#959;&#8055;&#957;&#945;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#965; &#948;&#949;&#953;&#954;&#957;&#8059;&#957;&#945;&#953; &#948;&#8059;&#957;&#945;&#956;&#945;&#8055; &#947;&#949; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#949;&#7984;&#960;&#949;&#8150;&#957;,</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#8047;&#948;&#949; &#964;&#949;&#8056;&#962;, &#924;&#945;&#961;&#953;&#8048;&#956;, &#7968;&#957;&#8055;&#948;&#949;, &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#964;&#959; &#7940;&#957;&#945;&#958;.</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 cleans�d 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">Expell�d 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?&mdash;<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, &amp;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,
+&amp;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! � 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 Ph&#339;nix 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 � 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, � 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 �, 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">D�monic 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&mdash;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 � 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 bereav�d 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 wonder�d'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 C�sar?</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">C�sar himself comes; C�sar with his sword.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fight not arm'd with C�sar's sword indeed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But C�sar as their sword with craft they plead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conquer'd thyself, O C�sar, make it known&mdash;<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 c�pi, 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 C�sar ... 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">C�sar challenges a debt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor hath God a thinner share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whatever C�sar'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 C�sar's too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All is C�sar's; and what ods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So long as C�sar'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 C�sar has his all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not due the less to God that they to C�sar fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to C�sar's throne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For C�sar'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: a�rios, � 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, &amp;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, &amp;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 � 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, � 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 �, 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, &amp;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, &amp;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 astoni�d.<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 maz�d 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 � 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&mdash;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 stain�d 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, &amp;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, � 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&mdash;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, � 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, � 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, � 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&mdash;<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">Rain�dst 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&mdash;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&mdash;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 co�ere 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, � 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. &amp; 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&mdash;<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">&#927;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#8166; &#7952;&#954;&#964;&#8059;&#960;&#951;&#963;&#949; &#946;&#961;&#8057;&#956;&#959;&#962;&#903; &#960;&#8057;&#955;&#949;&#956;&#959;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#7936;&#960;&#949;&#953;&#955;&#8048;&#962;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7982;&#947;&#949; &#964;&#961;&#8051;&#967;&#969;&#957; &#7940;&#957;&#949;&#956;&#959;&#962; &#963;&#8058;&#957; &#966;&#955;&#959;&#947;&#8054; &#963;&#956;&#949;&#961;&#948;&#945;&#955;&#8051;&#8131;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#913;&#8022;&#949;&#957; &#7992;&#959;&#965;&#948;&#945;&#8150;&#959;&#962;&#903; &#956;&#953;&#945;&#961;&#8048; &#963;&#964;&#965;&#947;&#949;&#961;&#8182;&#957; &#964;&#8048; &#954;&#8049;&#961;&#951;&#957;&#945;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7964;&#966;&#952;&#945;&#963;&#949; &#964;&#8134;&#962; &#8000;&#961;&#947;&#8134;&#962; &#964;&#8056; &#960;&#961;&#8051;&#960;&#959;&#957; &#959;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#8055;&#951;&#962;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7944;&#955;&#955;&#8048; &#947;&#945;&#955;&#951;&#957;&#945;&#8055;&#8179; &#8005;&#964;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#964;&#945;&#953; &#7973;&#963;&#965;&#967;&#959;&#957; &#7940;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#8179;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#934;&#955;&#8051;&#947;&#956;&#945;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#7936;&#946;&#955;&#8053;&#964;&#959;&#965;&#962; &#955;&#949;&#8054;&#967;&#949; &#966;&#8055;&#955;&#959;&#957; &#960;&#955;&#959;&#954;&#8049;&#956;&#959;&#965;&#962;,</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7961;&#954;&#952;&#945;&#956;&#946;&#949;&#8150;. &#8005;&#964;&#953; &#947;&#8048;&#961; &#954;&#949;&#8055;&#957;&#959;&#953;&#962; &#959;&#8016;&#954; &#7974;&#949;&#957; &#7936;&#955;&#951;&#952;&#8052;&#962;,</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#925;&#8166;&#957; &#7952;&#964;&#949;&#8056;&#957; &#948;&#953;&#8057;&#964;&#953; &#964;&#8183;&#948;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#961;&#945;&#965;&#957;&#8056;&#962; &#7956;&#951;&#957;.</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&mdash;<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">&#928;&#8134; &#964;&#945;&#967;&#8059;&#949;&#961;&#947;&#959;&#962; &#7940;&#947;&#949;&#953; &#960;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#965;&#947;' &#7936;&#963;&#964;&#949;&#961;&#8057;&#949;&#963;&#963;&#945;&#957; &#7952;&#961;&#949;&#964;&#956;&#8057;&#962;&#894;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7978; &#964;&#8055;&#957;&#953; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#945; &#966;&#8051;&#961;&#949;&#953; &#964;&#8052;&#957; &#960;&#8057;&#948;&#945; &#967;&#953;&#959;&#957;&#8051;&#951;&#957;&#894;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#964;&#949;&#8135; &#954;&#949;&#966;&#945;&#955;&#8135; &#960;&#8049;&#963;&#945;&#953;&#962; &#960;&#964;&#949;&#961;&#8059;&#947;&#949;&#963;&#963;&#953;&#957; &#7952;&#960;&#949;&#8055;&#947;&#949;&#953;&#903;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#928;&#8134; &#963;&#954;&#953;&#8049; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#948;&#945;&#963;&#8055;&#959;&#953;&#962; &#960;&#945;&#8150;&#950;&#949; &#956;&#8049;&#955;&#945; &#960;&#955;&#959;&#954;&#8049;&#956;&#959;&#953;&#962;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#928;&#959;&#8150;&#8049; &#963;&#959;&#953; &#7936;&#8164;&#8165;&#8053;&#964;&#8179; &#968;&#953;&#952;&#965;&#961;&#8055;&#963;&#956;&#945;&#964;&#953; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;' &#7936;&#947;&#959;&#961;&#949;&#8059;&#949;&#953;&#894;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7944;&#8164;&#8165;&#8053;&#964;', &#959;&#8016;&#954; &#7968;&#967;&#8134;&#962; &#7990;&#963;&#945; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7936;&#957;&#948;&#961;&#959;&#956;&#8051;&#951;&#962;.</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#924;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#945; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7973;&#948;' &#8004;&#961;&#957;&#953;&#962; &#954;&#945;&#955;&#953;&#8118;&#962; &#7952;&#963;&#964;' &#7936;&#958;&#8055;&#945; &#964;&#945;&#8059;&#964;&#951;&#962;&#903;</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7944;&#958;&#8055;&#945; &#948;' &#8004;&#961;&#957;&#953;&#952;&#959;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#945; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7969; &#954;&#945;&#955;&#953;&#8049;.</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. &amp; 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&mdash;a fair one too&mdash;<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 plac�d 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&mdash;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. &amp; 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. &amp; 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">&#927;&#8016;&#948;&#8050;&#957; &#7952;&#947;&#8060;, &#923;&#959;&#965;&#954;&#8118;, &#960;&#945;&#961;&#8049; &#963;&#959;&#965; &#956;&#959;&#8054; &#966;&#8049;&#961;&#956;&#945;&#954;&#959;&#957; &#945;&#7984;&#964;&#8182;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#922;&#7938;&#957; &#963;&#8058; &#948;' &#7984;&#945;&#964;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#7956;&#8131;&#962;, &#954;&#7938;&#957; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7952;&#947;&#8060; &#957;&#959;&#963;&#949;&#961;&#8057;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7944;&#955;&#955;' &#7952;&#957; &#8005;&#963;&#8179; &#960;&#945;&#961;&#8049;&#948;&#949;&#953;&#947;&#956;&#945; &#960;&#8051;&#955;&#949;&#953;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#8054; &#960;&#8055;&#963;&#964;&#953;&#959;&#962;, &#945;&#8016;&#964;&#8056;&#962;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#913;&#8016;&#964;&#8056;&#962; &#7984;&#945;&#964;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#7952;&#956;&#959;&#8055; &#947;' &#7952;&#963;&#963;&#8054; &#7936;&#954;&#949;&#963;&#964;&#959;&#961;&#8055;&#951;.<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 �, 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, � 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&mdash;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 crown�d 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea&mdash;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day worthy night so dark&mdash;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&mdash;<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">&#927;&#7990;&#954;&#959;&#962; &#8005;&#948;' &#7952;&#963;&#964;' &#945;&#8016;&#955;&#8053;&#894; &#959;&#8016; &#956;&#8053;. &#964;&#949;&#8056;&#962; &#959;&#7990;&#954;&#959;&#962;, &#7992;&#951;&#963;&#959;&#8166;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7964;&#957; &#952;' &#8103; &#964;&#8058; &#964;&#8055;&#954;&#964;&#8131; &#945;&#8020;&#955;&#953;&#959;&#957; &#959;&#8016; &#960;&#8051;&#955;&#949;&#964;&#945;&#953;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#927;&#7988;&#954;&#969;&#957; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#960;&#8049;&#957;&#964;&#969;&#957; &#956;&#8049;&#955;&#945; &#948;&#8052; &#954;&#8049;&#955;&#955;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#927;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#8166; &#959;&#8016;&#948;&#8050; &#964;&#949;&#959;&#8166; &#956;&#953;&#954;&#961;&#8057;&#964;&#949;&#961;&#959;&#962; &#960;&#8051;&#955;&#949;&#964;&#945;&#953;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7976;&#957;&#8055;&#948;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959; &#957;&#8051;&#8179; &#948;&#8182;&#956;' &#7952;&#956;&#960;&#965;&#961;&#8055;&#950;&#949;&#964;&#959; &#967;&#961;&#965;&#963;&#8183;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7976;&#957;&#8055;&#948;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959; &#957;&#8051;&#959;&#953;&#962; &#948;&#8182;&#956;&#945; &#8165;&#8057;&#948;&#959;&#953;&#963;&#953; &#947;&#949;&#955;&#8119;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7980;&#957; &#8165;&#8057;&#948;&#959;&#957; &#959;&#8016;&#967;&#8054; &#947;&#949;&#955;&#8119;, &#7970;&#957; &#959;&#8016;&#948;&#8051; &#964;&#949; &#967;&#961;&#965;&#963;&#8056;&#962; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#952;&#949;&#957;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7960;&#954; &#963;&#959;&#8166; &#948;' &#8000;&#966;&#952;&#945;&#955;&#956;&#8182;&#957; &#7952;&#963;&#964;&#953;&#957; &#7952;&#955;&#949;&#947;&#967;&#8051;&#956;&#949;&#957;&#945;&#953;.<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;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>&mdash;<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&mdash;<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 horn�d 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 C�sar'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 C�sar 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&mdash;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">C�sarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">C�sarean, 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">&#7944;&#961;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#7956;&#951;&#957; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#948;&#8134;&#964;', &#949;&#7984;&#960;&#949;&#8150;&#957; &#952;&#8051;&#956;&#953;&#962; &#7952;&#963;&#964;&#8054;&#957;, &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#964;&#959;&#953; &#7940;&#961;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#7956;&#951;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#953; &#955;&#8055;&#952;&#959;&#962;, &#7936;&#955;&#955;&#8048; &#964;&#949;&#8057;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7978;&#957; &#959;&#8019;&#964;&#969;&#962; &#964;&#959;&#8166; &#960;&#945;&#964;&#961;&#8056;&#962; &#7956;&#8131; &#956;&#949;&#947;&#8049;&#955;&#959;&#965; &#964;&#8056; &#952;&#8051;&#955;&#951;&#956;&#945;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7948;&#961;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#8005;&#964;' &#959;&#8016;&#954; &#7974;&#957; &#964;&#959;&#953;, &#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#964;&#959;&#953; &#7940;&#961;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#7956;&#951;&#957;.<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">&#935;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#935;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> tuum penna candidiore venit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sed taceat, qui <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#967;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#935;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> meum penna candidiore venit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quis dicat mihi <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#967;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</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">&#935;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Donas candidior tu mihi <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#967;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> meum.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#935;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</span> meum de <span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#967;&#945;&#8150;&#961;&#949;</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' C�sarean 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 wash�d 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 � 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 � 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&mdash;nor am asham'd&mdash;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 Ph&#339;nix' 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But these&mdash;no herbs nor spices equal them&mdash;<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&mdash;her Lord's head in amomum laid&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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, � 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&mdash;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 bless�d 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 Ph&#339;bus' 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&mdash;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&mdash;<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:&mdash;not with these lips of mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, with my lips,&mdash;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">&#925;&#8166;&#957; &#7956;&#964;&#953; &#7969;&#956;&#8051;&#964;&#949;&#961;&#8057;&#957; &#963;&#949;, &#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#7956;&#967;&#959;&#956;&#949;&#957; &#964;&#8056;&#957; &#7956;&#961;&#969;&#964;&#945;&#894;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#927;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#8166; &#959;&#8022;&#957; &#8005;&#963;&#963;&#959;&#957; &#964;&#8056;&#957; &#966;&#952;&#8057;&#957;&#959;&#957; &#8033;&#962; &#7956;&#967;&#959;&#956;&#949;&#957;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7944;&#955;&#955;&#8048; &#7956;&#967;&#969;&#956;&#949;&#957;. &#7956;&#967;&#949;&#953; &#7953;&#8048; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#964;&#8048; &#948;' &#7936;&#947;&#8049;&#955;&#956;&#945;&#964;&#945; &#945;&#7984;&#952;&#8053;&#961;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7948;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#945; &#964;&#949; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#934;&#959;&#8150;&#946;&#959;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#954;&#945;&#955;&#8048; &#964;&#8182;&#957; &#957;&#949;&#966;&#949;&#955;&#8182;&#957;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#8013;&#963;&#963;&#959;&#957; &#7956;&#951;&#957;, &#7969;&#956;&#8150;&#957; &#8004;&#966;&#961;' &#949;&#7988;&#951; &#7957;&#957; &#964;&#8057;&#948;&#949; &#7940;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#959;&#957;&#894;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7948;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#959;&#957; &#7955;&#957; &#7969;&#956;&#8150;&#957; &#8086;&#903; &#949;&#7984;&#963;&#8055; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#7940;&#963;&#964;&#961;' &#7953;&#954;&#945;&#964;&#8057;&#957;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#928;&#8049;&#957;&#964;&#945; &#956;&#8049;&#964;&#951;&#957;. &#8005;&#964;&#953;, &#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#963;&#8058; &#959;&#8016;&#954; &#7936;&#957;&#8051;&#946;&#945;&#953;&#957;&#949;&#962; &#7952;&#962; &#945;&#8016;&#964;&#8057;&#957;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#913;&#8016;&#964;&#8056;&#962; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#964;&#8051;&#946;&#951; &#959;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#8056;&#962; &#949;&#7984;&#962; &#963;&#8050; &#964;&#949;&#8057;&#962;.<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">&#925;&#8059;&#954;&#964;' &#7952;&#955;&#8051;&#951;&#963;&#959;&#957; &#7952;&#956;&#8052;&#957;, &#7952;&#955;&#8051;&#951;&#963;&#959;&#957;. &#957;&#945;&#8055; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8050;, &#7952;&#956;&#959;&#8166; &#7974;&#956;&#945;&#961;, &#957;&#8058;&#958; &#8005;&#948;' &#7952;&#956;&#949;&#8150;&#959; &#7956;&#967;&#949;&#953;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#8008;&#966;&#952;&#945;&#955;&#956;&#8182;&#957; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;, &#920;&#949;&#8056;&#962;, &#948;&#8051;&#949;&#964;&#945;&#953; &#964;&#8057;&#948;&#949; &#947;&#957;&#8061;&#956;&#951;&#962;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#924;&#8053; &#956;&#959;&#953; &#964;&#959;&#8166;&#964;' &#945;&#7988;&#961;&#8131;&#962;, &#948;&#8057;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#953; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959; &#966;&#8049;&#959;&#962;.<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, &amp;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">&#917;&#7990;&#962; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#7952;&#947;&#8060;, &#8087; &#956;&#959;&#8166; &#960;&#955;&#8049;&#957;&#951; &#960;&#949;&#961;&#953;&#8134;&#947;&#949;&#957;, &#7940;&#955;&#951;&#956;&#953;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#917;&#7990;&#962; &#948;&#8051; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#963;&#8182;&#962; &#7956;&#963;&#959;&#956;&#945;&#953; &#947;&#951;&#952;&#959;&#963;&#8059;&#957;&#945;&#953; &#960;&#955;&#8051;&#959;&#957;&#949;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7944;&#956;&#957;&#8056;&#962; &#8001; &#956;&#8052; &#960;&#959;&#953;&#8182;&#957; &#966;&#8057;&#946;&#959;&#957; &#959;&#8016; &#960;&#959;&#953;&#949;&#8150; &#948;&#8051; &#964;&#949; &#967;&#8049;&#961;&#956;&#945;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#924;&#949;&#8054;&#950;&#969;&#957; &#964;&#8182;&#957; &#956;&#8050;&#957;, &#7952;&#956;&#959;&#8166; &#967;&#961;&#949;&#8055;&#945; &#948;&#8050; &#947;&#955;&#965;&#954;&#965;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#951;.<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, &amp;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">&#7960;&#957; &#956;&#8050;&#957;, &#7992;&#8049;&#954;&#969;&#946;&#949;, &#954;&#949;&#966;&#945;&#955;&#8053;&#957; &#964;&#959;&#953; &#958;&#8055;&#966;&#959;&#962; &#7936;&#960;&#8135;&#961;&#949;&#957;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7963;&#957; &#964;&#8057;&#948;&#949; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#963;&#964;&#8051;&#966;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#957; &#958;&#8055;&#966;&#959;&#962; &#7956;&#948;&#969;&#954;&#949; &#964;&#949;&#8057;&#957;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#924;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#959;&#957; &#7936;&#956;&#949;&#8055;&#946;&#949;&#963;&#952;&#945;&#953; &#954;&#949;&#966;&#945;&#955;&#8052;&#957;, &#7992;&#8049;&#954;&#969;&#946;&#949;, &#948;&#8059;&#957;&#945;&#953;&#964;&#959;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#922;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962; &#8003;&#948;' &#8033;&#962; &#954;&#945;&#955;&#8056;&#962; &#956;&#945;&#961;&#964;&#965;&#961;&#8055;&#959;&#965; &#963;&#964;&#8051;&#966;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#962;.<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">&#935;&#949;&#8054;&#961; &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#955;&#959;&#956;&#8051;&#957;&#951; &#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#959;&#8166; &#7952;&#960;&#8051;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#955;&#949;&#957; &#8000;&#960;&#969;&#960;&#8182;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7948;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#945;&#903; &#8000;&#960;&#951;&#948;&#949;&#8059;&#949;&#953; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#8049; &#947;&#949; &#967;&#949;&#953;&#961;&#8054; &#920;&#949;&#959;&#8166;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#935;&#949;&#8054;&#961; &#945;&#8019;&#964;&#951; &#964;&#959;&#8059;&#964;&#959;&#953;&#962; &#960;&#8051;&#955;&#949;&#957; &#959;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#8057;&#962;. &#7940;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#945; &#947;&#8048;&#961; &#959;&#7990;&#956;&#945;&#953;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7960;&#957; &#967;&#949;&#961;&#8054; &#964;&#945;&#8166;&#964;' &#959;&#7988;&#963;&#949;&#953; &#935;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8056;&#962; &#7956;&#960;&#949;&#953;&#964;&#945; &#7953;&#8135;.<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">&#932;&#8055;&#960;&#964;' &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#954;&#959;&#956;&#960;&#8049;&#950;&#949;&#953;&#962; &#954;&#949;&#957;&#949;&#8056;&#957; &#958;&#949;&#8055;&#957;&#8179; &#948;&#8051; &#964;&#949; &#954;&#945;&#961;&#960;&#8183;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#922;&#945;&#8054; &#966;&#8059;&#955;&#955;&#959;&#953;&#962; &#963;&#949;&#956;&#957;&#8052; &#956;&#8052;, &#963;&#965;&#954;&#8057;&#956;&#969;&#961;&#949;, &#964;&#949;&#959;&#8150;&#962;&#894;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#945;&#8054; &#947;&#8048;&#961; &#8005;&#948;' &#7952;&#954;&#954;&#961;&#8053;&#956;&#957;&#951;&#962; &#963;&#959;&#8166; &#957;&#8166;&#957; &#956;&#949;&#964;&#8051;&#969;&#961;&#959;&#962; &#7936;&#960;' &#7956;&#961;&#957;&#959;&#965;&#962;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7944;&#956;&#960;&#8051;&#955;&#959;&#965; &#8001; &#954;&#955;&#945;&#948;&#8060;&#957; &#7956;&#963;&#963;&#949;&#964;&#945;&#953; &#959;&#8016;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#8055;&#959;&#965;.<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],&mdash;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!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">God witness�d by palate and by tooth!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span>&mdash;<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&mdash;or is't my fears?&mdash;<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, bless�d 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&mdash;pleno populus fremit undique plausu&mdash;<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&mdash;<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, &amp;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, &amp;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&mdash;'tis divinely spoken&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was Solomon, with sin encrimson�d;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not unlike&mdash;and 'tis a better token&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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 � 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&mdash;O burden worthier angels' wings!&mdash;<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&mdash;<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, believ�d<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 receiv�d,<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 � 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&mdash;I feare the worst&mdash;<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&mdash;know'st them not?&mdash;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, � bone, nescis.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sol oritur, tecum nox tamen est, et adhuc<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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!&mdash;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frightful, num'rous as my sin&mdash;<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, &amp;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, &amp;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, � 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&mdash;and let not the bold rash word appal&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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 � 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&mdash;<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, &amp;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, &amp;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&mdash;in death to lie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this is to live long&mdash;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, &amp;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, &amp;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, � 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 astonish�d<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&mdash;<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, � 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, &amp;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, &amp;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,&mdash;<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 �ternally 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">�ternall 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 &amp;c.) I tender thanks to my
+good friend Rev. J.H. Clark, M.A., as before; the other and
+somewhat difficult one (Fides &amp;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 bruis�d 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 join�d ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose clasp�d 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&mdash;she's dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struck to the heart astoni�d.<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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 &#338;ta'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 Nem�an 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&mdash;desolate, lone?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Faith then, that lov�d will not love<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor hope&mdash;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, � 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 furl�d 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, � 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 perplex�d paths no more can trace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though sympathising earth astonied reel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nature jarr�d 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">Mistim�d 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&mdash;mild brood&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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 bolt�d 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&mdash;I confess it&mdash;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&mdash;<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">� &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; � &nbsp;&nbsp; �<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, � 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">&#917;&#921;&#931; &#932;&#927;&#925; &#932;&#927;&#933; &#931;&#932;&#917;&#934;&#913;&#925;&#927;&#933; &#931;&#932;&#917;&#934;&#913;&#925;&#927;&#925;</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, � 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 crown�d 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&mdash;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&mdash;<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)&mdash;Epitaphium
+in Dominum Herrisium (pp. 92-3)&mdash;Principi recens
+natae omen maternae indolis (pp. 108-9)&mdash;In Serenissimae
+Reginae partum hyemalem (pp. 118-9)&mdash;Ad Reginam (pp. 121-2)&mdash;In
+faciem Augustiss. Regis a morbillis integram (p. 127)&mdash;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)&mdash;Thesaurus Malorum Foemina (p. 59)&mdash;In
+Apollinea depereuntem Daphnen (pp. 60-1)&mdash;Aeneas Patris sui
+Bajulus (p. 61)&mdash;In Pygmaliona (p. 61)&mdash;Arion (pp. 61-2)&mdash;Phoenicis
+Genethliacon et Epicedion (p. 63)&mdash;Epitaphium (p. 64)&mdash;Damno
+affici saepe fit Lucrum (pp. 64-5)&mdash;Humanae Vitae
+Descriptio (p. 65)&mdash;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ut quondam Siculus globus&mdash;<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, a�ris,<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, � <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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Virgin still, all love inviting&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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 transfigur�d:<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 lin�d 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 skill�d 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&mdash;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>&mdash;after all&mdash;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.&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;once more back&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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 ph&#339;nix 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heavy, crushing, wearing, slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Causing us in dread to go&mdash;<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 ph&#339;nix 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!&mdash;<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 � 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&mdash;<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&mdash;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">A�rea 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 a�ra:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cursibus, piscis; digitis, Arion:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Et sternit undas, sternit et a�ra:<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&mdash;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 thinn�d 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, all&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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-drap�d 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 � 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">�NEAS THE BEARER OF HIS FATHER.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The walls of Troy&mdash;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 �<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faecunda; sancta � 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 PH&#338;NIX.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ph&#339;nix, 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-contain�d 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, � 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,&mdash;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 damn�d 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;&mdash;<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&mdash;an arch�d 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&mdash;with Hell akin&mdash;<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, � 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&mdash;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, � 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&mdash;who&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;Spirits of evil, speak!&mdash;<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 contriv�d 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&mdash;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&mdash;better than had ye div'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To furthest Tartarus&mdash;Man's protecting wall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall breach. Earth's fury&mdash;Woman&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;<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 relum�d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deftly hover, airy-plum�d;<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 � 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&mdash;esse longum<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Virgines nollent&mdash;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 � 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">Renown�d from the ages olden.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smile; then Ph&#339;bus' flame shall fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Ph&#339;be 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">A�rios 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&mdash;alas, unduteous daughters&mdash;<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&mdash;somewhat out of character, so
+to say, with Crashaw&mdash;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&mdash;illumined by the genius of
+Crabbe&mdash;and the name of the boy's family Coleman. The
+poem thus begins and proceeds&mdash;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">&#7936;&#957;&#952;&#961;&#8049;&#954;&#945;&#957;&#948;&#961;&#959;&#962;</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">&#954;&#959;&#960;&#961;&#959;&#967;&#961;&#965;&#963;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#964;&#945;</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&mdash;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?&mdash;<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 � tibi gratulamur istas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Musa, � 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, � bene nesciunt, novaque<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mirantur facie novum nitorem.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ipsas tu facis � nitere sordes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sordes � 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 � te faciunt nitere sordes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sordes � 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 � 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 � 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&mdash;<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 Hippocren� 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)&mdash;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">A�rios 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 a�ra 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 Pr�ceptor; '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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, how far off!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 �, quos socia Lachesis prope miscuit urna,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Et vicina colus vix sinit esse duos;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ite �, quos nostri jungunt consortia damni;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Per nostras lacrymas � 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 � Themis aurea pompa;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hic velit � 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&mdash;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&mdash;for thou ownest all&mdash;<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, &amp;c. Lib. ii. 13.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">&#7953;&#955;&#955;&#951;&#957;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#8055;.</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>&#8045;&#961;&#8115; &#963;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962; &#952;&#8134;&#954;&#949;&#957; &#7936;&#960;&#959;&#966;&#961;&#8049;&#948;&#953;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#8009; &#960;&#961;&#8182;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#8005;&#963;&#964;&#953;&#962; &#967;&#949;&#953;&#961;&#8054; &#964;&#949; &#946;&#8061;&#956;&#945;&#954;&#953;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7964;&#952;&#961;&#949;&#968;&#949;, &#948;&#8051;&#957;&#948;&#961;&#959;&#957;, &#964;&#8134;&#962; &#964;&#949; &#954;&#8061;&#956;&#951;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#913;&#7988;&#964;&#953;&#959;&#957;, &#7952;&#963;&#963;&#959;&#956;&#8051;&#957;&#969;&#957; &#964;' &#7956;&#955;&#949;&#947;&#967;&#959;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962; &#964;&#959;&#954;&#8134;&#959;&#962; &#952;&#961;&#8059;&#968;&#949; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#945;&#8016;&#967;&#8051;&#957;&#945;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962; &#947;&#949;, &#966;&#945;&#8055;&#951;&#957;, &#7941;&#953;&#956;&#945;&#964;&#953; &#958;&#949;&#953;&#957;&#8055;&#8179;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#924;&#965;&#967;&#8061;&#964;&#945;&#964;&#959;&#957; &#954;&#959;&#953;&#964;&#8182;&#957;&#945; &#8165;&#945;&#8150;&#957;&#949;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#925;&#8059;&#954;&#964;&#953;&#959;&#962;, &#7936;&#956;&#966;&#945;&#966;&#8049;&#945;&#963;&#949; &#954;&#949;&#8150;&#957;&#959;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#932;&#8048; &#948;&#8134;&#964;&#945; &#922;&#8057;&#955;&#967;&#969;&#957; &#966;&#8049;&#961;&#956;&#945;&#954;&#945;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#954;&#945;&#954;&#959;&#8166;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#928;&#8118;&#957; &#967;&#961;&#8134;&#956;&#945;, &#948;&#8061;&#963;&#945;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#8054; &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#967;&#8061;&#961;&#953;&#959;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#931;&#949; &#963;&#964;&#965;&#947;&#957;&#8056;&#957; &#7956;&#961;&#957;&#959;&#962;, &#948;&#949;&#963;&#960;&#8057;&#964;&#959;&#965; &#963;&#949;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#7964;&#956;&#960;&#949;&#963;&#959;&#957; &#7952;&#962; &#954;&#949;&#966;&#945;&#955;&#8052;&#957; &#7936;&#949;&#953;&#954;&#8182;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#928;&#8049;&#963;&#951;&#962; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#8037;&#961;&#951;&#962; &#960;&#8118;&#957; &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#954;&#8055;&#957;&#948;&#965;&#957;&#959;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#932;&#8055;&#962; &#959;&#7990;&#948;&#949; &#966;&#949;&#8059;&#947;&#949;&#953;&#957;&#894; &#948;&#949;&#8055;&#948;&#953;&#949; &#914;&#8057;&#963;&#966;&#959;&#961;&#959;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#923;&#953;&#946;&#8058;&#962; &#8001; &#960;&#955;&#969;&#964;&#8052;&#957;, &#959;&#8016;&#948;' &#7936;&#957;&#945;&#8055;&#954;&#951;&#961;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#932;&#8052;&#957; &#954;&#961;&#965;&#966;&#8055;&#951;&#957; &#7953;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#969;&#952;&#949;&#957; &#8000;&#954;&#957;&#949;&#8150;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#928;&#8049;&#961;&#952;&#969;&#957; &#956;&#8049;&#967;&#951;&#956;&#959;&#957; &#8172;&#969;&#956;&#8049;&#970;&#954;&#959;&#962; &#966;&#965;&#947;&#8052;&#957;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#945;&#8054; &#964;&#8057;&#958;&#945;&#903; &#928;&#8049;&#961;&#952;&#959;&#962; &#8172;&#969;&#956;&#945;&#912;&#954;&#951;&#957; &#946;&#8055;&#945;&#957;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#922;&#945;&#8054; &#948;&#949;&#963;&#956;&#8048;&#903; &#955;&#8049;&#959;&#965;&#962; &#7936;&#955;&#955;&#8048; &#956;&#959;&#8055;&#961;&#945;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#914;&#8049;&#955;&#955;&#949;, &#946;&#945;&#955;&#949;&#8150; &#964;' &#7936;&#948;&#8057;&#954;&#951;&#964;&#959;&#962; &#8001;&#961;&#956;&#8053;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#931;&#967;&#8051;&#948;&#959;&#957; &#963;&#967;&#8051;&#948;&#959;&#957; &#960;&#8182;&#962; &#928;&#949;&#961;&#963;&#949;&#966;&#8057;&#957;&#951;&#962; &#7988;&#948;&#959;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#913;&#8020;&#955;&#951;&#957; &#956;&#949;&#955;&#945;&#8055;&#957;&#951;&#957;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#954;&#961;&#8055;&#963;&#953;&#957; &#913;&#7984;&#945;&#954;&#959;&#8166;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#922;&#945;&#955;&#8052;&#957; &#964;' &#7936;&#960;&#8057;&#963;&#964;&#945;&#963;&#953;&#957; &#956;&#945;&#954;&#945;&#8055;&#961;&#969;&#957;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#913;&#7984;&#959;&#955;&#8055;&#945;&#953;&#962; &#954;&#953;&#957;&#8059;&#961;&#951;&#957; &#964;&#949; &#967;&#959;&#961;&#948;&#945;&#8150;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#931;&#945;&#960;&#966;&#8060; &#960;&#945;&#964;&#961;&#8055;&#948;&#959;&#962; &#956;&#949;&#956;&#966;&#959;&#956;&#8051;&#957;&#951;&#957; &#954;&#8057;&#961;&#945;&#953;&#962;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7976;&#967;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#964;&#945; &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#963;&#949; &#960;&#955;&#949;&#8150;&#959;&#957; &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#967;&#961;&#8059;&#963;&#8179;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7944;&#955;&#954;&#945;&#8150;&#949;, &#960;&#955;&#8053;&#954;&#964;&#961;&#8179; &#963;&#954;&#955;&#951;&#961;&#8048; &#957;&#8134;&#959;&#962;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#931;&#954;&#955;&#951;&#961;&#8048; &#966;&#965;&#947;&#8134;&#962;, &#960;&#959;&#955;&#8051;&#956;&#959;&#965; &#964;&#949; &#963;&#954;&#955;&#951;&#961;&#8049;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#917;&#8016;&#966;&#951;&#956;&#8051;&#959;&#965;&#963;&#945;&#953; &#948;' &#7936;&#956;&#966;&#959;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#969;&#957; &#963;&#954;&#953;&#945;&#8054;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#955;&#8059;&#959;&#965;&#963;&#953; &#952;&#8049;&#956;&#946;&#949;&#953;, &#964;&#8048;&#962; &#948;&#8050; &#956;&#945;&#967;&#8048;&#962; &#960;&#955;&#8051;&#959;&#957;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7944;&#957;&#945;&#963;&#964;&#8049;&#964;&#959;&#965;&#962; &#964;&#949; &#956;&#8050;&#957; &#964;&#965;&#961;&#8049;&#957;&#957;&#959;&#965;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#8040;&#956;&#953;&#8048;&#962; &#7956;&#954;&#960;&#953;&#949;&#957; &#8038;&#963;&#953; &#955;&#8118;&#959;&#962;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#932;&#8055; &#952;&#945;&#8166;&#956;'&#894; &#7952;&#954;&#949;&#8055;&#957;&#945;&#953;&#962; &#952;&#8052;&#961; &#8005;&#964;&#949; &#964;&#961;&#8055;&#954;&#961;&#945;&#957;&#959;&#962;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#7948;&#954;&#951;&#957; &#7936;&#959;&#953;&#948;&#945;&#8150;&#962;, &#959;&#8020;&#945;&#964;&#945; &#954;&#8049;&#946;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#949;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7960;&#961;&#953;&#957;&#957;&#8059;&#969;&#957; &#952;' &#7969;&#948;&#965;&#960;&#945;&#952;&#959;&#8166;&#963;&#953;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#914;&#8057;&#963;&#964;&#961;&#965;&#967;&#949;&#962;, &#7969;&#963;&#965;&#967;&#8055;&#969;&#957; &#7952;&#967;&#953;&#948;&#957;&#8182;&#957;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#922;&#945;&#8054; &#948;&#8052; &#928;&#961;&#959;&#956;&#951;&#952;&#949;&#8058;&#962;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#928;&#8051;&#955;&#959;&#960;&#959;&#962; &#960;&#945;&#964;&#8052;&#961;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&#917;&#8021;&#948;&#959;&#965;&#963;&#953;&#957; &#7968;&#967;&#949;&#8150; &#964;&#8183; &#955;&#945;&#952;&#953;&#954;&#8053;&#948;&#949;&#970;&#903;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&#7948;&#947;&#949;&#953;&#957; &#955;&#949;&#8057;&#957;&#964;&#945;&#962; &#8040;&#961;&#8055;&#969;&#957; &#948;&#8050;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&#927;&#8016; &#966;&#953;&#955;&#949;&#8051;&#953;, &#966;&#959;&#946;&#949;&#961;&#8049;&#962; &#964;&#949; &#955;&#8059;&#947;&#954;&#945;&#962;.<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,' &amp;c. l. 11, 'perrerati' for 'pererrati;' l. 26, 'discere'
+for 'dicere:' in 'In Serenissim� Regin�' &amp;c. the heading is
+'Senerissim�;' l. 14, 'tuos' for 'tuus;' l. 41, 'Namque' for
+'Nam qu�;' l. 43, 'Junus' for 'Janus:' in 'Principi recens' &amp;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' &amp;c. l. 20, 'tener�' 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'
+&amp;c. l. 5, 'natalis' for 'natales;' l. 15, 'qua' for 'quo;'
+l. 31, 'longe' for 'longo:' in 'Venerabili viro magistro Tournay'
+&amp;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' &amp;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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,&mdash;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&mdash;<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&mdash;<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, � 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, � 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 � 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 Ph&#339;bus 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 Ph&#339;bus' face?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not in our Ph&#339;be 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 Ph&#339;bus 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 pr�beat 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, � 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,&mdash;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 dethron�d 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 � sacris circumflua coetibus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Huc � 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!&mdash;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&mdash;quis putet?&mdash;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&mdash;who would think?&mdash;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, � 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, � 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&mdash;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,&mdash;<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&mdash;with each bright star<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That rul'd her birth&mdash;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, � parce furori,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pone animos; � 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 � 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 � miscete jubar, tu candide frater,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tuque serena soror. Sic � 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 � te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Esse suam Phoeben fulsus jurabit Apollo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tunc � 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 bless�d cries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the palace. See a glory rise&mdash;<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&mdash;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 Ph&#339;bus swear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou art his own Ph&#339;be! 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 Ph&#339;bus 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 � 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sacra domus nostrum est coelum&mdash;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&mdash;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O bonus, � ingens meritis, � proximus ipsi,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quem vocat in sua dona, Deo&mdash;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&mdash;sitque � tua&mdash;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 � 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,&mdash;<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&mdash;God's house is heaven, we say&mdash;<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&mdash;O good, O huge in charity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O nigh to God Himself,&mdash;Whom to descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On His own gracious gifts he prays&mdash;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,&mdash;<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, � 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&mdash;not through slow-revolving natal days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To a thin shadow worn by sad delays&mdash;<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 ag�d Ph&#339;nix, 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 Ph&#339;nix 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 Ph&#339;nix, 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spices mix'd with flickering fire&mdash;<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&mdash;<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,&mdash;<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 Ph&#339;nix, 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 pil�d 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 Ph&#339;nix 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&mdash;<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, ph&#339;nix-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,&mdash;ah&mdash;in brave times of old&mdash;<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 dishonour�d 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 renown�d 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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ah, how much the child her arms enfold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is like the mother!&mdash;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&mdash;she is beneath thy wing&mdash;<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: � si,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quae tua nempe forent, hic meliora forent!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Qualiacunque, suum norunt haec flumina fontem&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nilus ab ignoto fonte superbus eat&mdash;<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&mdash;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 learn�d 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&mdash;my times perhaps may say of me&mdash;<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&mdash;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">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Infantem&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Essexia</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="2" class="pad">vidit.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Juvenem</td><td align="left" class="pad">Cantabrigia</td><td align="left">&#9496;</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">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Oratoria</td><td align="left" class="pad">Oratorem</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">agnovere.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetica</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetam</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Utraque</td><td align="left" class="pad">Philosophum</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Christianum&nbsp;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Omnes</td><td align="left">&#9496;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Qui</td>
+<td align="left">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Fide</td><td align="left" class="pad">Mundum</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">superavit.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Spe</td><td align="left" class="pad">Coelum</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Charitate</td><td align="left" class="pad">Proximum</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Humilitate</td><td align="left" class="pad">Seipsum</td><td align="left">&#9496;</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&mdash;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&mdash;great, noble, wise&mdash;<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">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">As infant</td><td align="left" class="pad">Essex</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="2" class="pad">saw.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">As youth</td><td align="left" class="pad">Cambridge</td><td align="left">&#9496;</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">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Eloquence as an</td><td align="left" class="pad">Orator</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">owned.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poetry as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Poet</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">Each as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Philosopher</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">All as a</td><td align="left" class="pad">Christian</td><td align="left">&#9496;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right" rowspan="4" class="pad">Who</td>
+<td align="left">&#9484;</td><td align="left" class="pad">By faith the</td><td align="left" class="pad">world</td><td align="left">&#9488;</td>
+<td align="left" rowspan="4" class="pad">conquered.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">By hope</td><td align="left" class="pad">Heaven</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9474;</td><td align="left" class="pad">By love his</td><td align="left" class="pad">fellow-men</td><td align="left">&#9474;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&#9492;</td><td align="left" class="pad">By himself</td><td align="left" class="pad">himself</td><td align="left">&#9496;</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 � 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">Sydn�an, 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,' &amp;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'&mdash;a district which includes Handsworth&mdash;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'&mdash;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
+Reformat�, quam Filius ejus Ric. Crashaw, injuriis vexatus, pressus
+inopia, Patria extorris, et complexu Matris Ecclesi� 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]&mdash;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'&mdash;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)&mdash;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,' &amp;c., two things are noticeable:
+(1) that earlier Crashaw was of the 'earth earthy,' as
+much as any of his contemporary poets;&mdash;his 'Royal' and other
+early poetry (as above) is heathenish almost&mdash;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&mdash;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 Pr�dicator Academi�.
+An. 1634, Thesaurarius Junior et S. Theologi� 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 Plumtr�
+Schol� public� de Brentwood Archididasculo, admissus Mar. 2, 1623,
+�tatis 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. Optim� 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.&mdash;ignorant that he was really criticising
+Bp. Jeremy Taylor&mdash;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.&mdash;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,' &amp;c. &amp;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 aper�ut J�sus-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&mdash;too
+short a time to furnish sufficient materials for the illustration of his
+biography.&mdash;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,' &amp;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">&#964;&#8052;&#957; &#7952;&#960;&#953;&#952;&#965;&#956;&#8055;&#945;&#957; &#7956;&#967;&#969;&#957; &#949;&#7984;&#962; &#964;&#8056; &#7936;&#957;&#945;&#955;&#8059;&#963;&#945;&#953;</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, &amp;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">&#7952;&#957; &#8103; &#959;&#8016;&#948;&#8051;&#960;&#969; &#959;&#8016;&#948;&#949;&#8054;&#962; &#7952;&#964;&#8051;&#952;&#951;</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">&#963;&#949;&#953;&#963;&#956;&#8056;&#962; &#7952;&#947;&#8051;&#957;&#949;&#964;&#959; &#956;&#8051;&#947;&#945;&#962;.</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">&#7952;&#963;&#949;&#8055;&#963;&#952;&#951;&#963;&#945;&#957; &#959;&#7985; &#964;&#951;&#961;&#959;&#8166;&#957;&#964;&#949;&#962;, &#954;&#945;&#8054; &#7952;&#947;&#8051;&#957;&#959;&#957;&#964;&#959; &#8037;&#963;&#949;&#953; &#957;&#949;&#954;&#961;&#959;&#8055;.</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&mdash;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 bless�d 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,
+lingu� 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>&mdash;'terga
+dare' being equivalent to 'fugere'&mdash;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 &amp;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 &amp;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' &amp;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,' &amp;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 Votiv� &amp;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' &amp;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, &amp;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>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
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@@ -0,0 +1,16243 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume
+II (of 2), by Richard Crashaw, Edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+
+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 www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Richard Crashaw
+
+Editor: Alexander Balloch Grosart
+
+Release Date: January 13, 2012  [eBook #38550]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD
+CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft
+
+
+Transcriber' note:
+
+      A character following a carat is supercripted (example:
+      y^e). When two or more characters are superscripted they
+      are enclosed in curly brackets (example: D^{ris}).
+
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+ESSAY ON LIFE AND WRITINGS.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA ET POEMATA LATINA: TRANSLATED FOR THE
+FIRST TIME. GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London:
+Robson and Sons, Printers, Pancras Road, N.W.
+
+
+
+
+The Fuller Worthies' Library.
+
+THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+For the First Time Collected
+and Collated with the Original and Early Editions,
+and Much Enlarged with
+
+    I. Hitherto unprinted and inedited Poems from Archbishop Sancroft's
+        MSS. &c. &c.
+   II. Translation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata.
+  III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes.
+   IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own
+       Illustrations of 1652, with others specially prepared.
+
+Edited by the
+
+REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART,
+
+St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire.
+
+In Two Volumes.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Printed for Private Circulation.
+1873.
+
+156 copies printed.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+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.
+Preeminently I owe thanks to my 'brother beloved,' the Rev. RICHARD
+WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory, Market Weighton.
+
+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. HOLDEN, Ipswich, Rev. Dr.
+JESSOPP, Norwich, and W. ALDIS WRIGHT, 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.
+
+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.
+
+(_a_) Anthologia in Regis exanthemata; seu gratulatio Musarum
+Cantabrigiensium de felicissime conservata Regis Caroli valetudine,
+1632.
+
+(_b_) Ducis Eboracensis Fasciae a Musis Cantabrigiensibus raptim
+contextae, 1633.
+
+(_c_) Rex Redux; sive Musa Cantabrigiensis Voti ... et felici reditu
+Regis Caroli post receptam coronam comitaque peracta in Scotia, 1633.
+
+(_d_) Carmen Natalitium ad cunas illustrissimae Principis Elizabethae
+decantatum intra Nativitatis Dom. solemnia per humiles Cantabrigiae
+Musas, 1635.
+
+(_e_) {Synodia}, sive Musarum Cantabrigiensium concentus et
+congratulatio ad serenissimum Britanniarum Regem Carolum de quinta sua
+sobole clarissima Principe sibi nuper felicissime nata, 1637.
+
+(_f_) Voces votivae ab Academicis Cantabrigiensibus pro novissimo Caroli
+et Mariae Principe Filio emissae, 1640.
+
+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.
+
+By the liberality of F. MADOX-BROWN, 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 W.J. LINTON, Esq. and Mrs. BLACKBURN 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. CHARLES ROBSON (of my Printers), one of the old
+learned school, has cooperated 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 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.
+
+  A.B.G.
+
+  Park View, Blackburn, Lancashire,
+  March 4, 1873.
+
+P.S. Three small overlooked items bearing on Crashaw having been
+recovered from a missing Note-book, I add them here.
+
+(_a_) 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 _Richard Bently_, _Jacob Tonson_, _Francis
+Saunders_, and _Tho. Bennett_.' It is from the same type, and identical
+in every way except the fresh title-page, with the (so-called) '2d
+Edition.'
+
+(_b_) 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:
+
+                    'Soft, sir,--stand!
+    You are arraign'd for theft; hold up your hand.
+    Impudent theft as ever was exprest,
+    Not to steal jewels only, but the chest;
+    Not to nib bits of gold from Crashaw's lines,
+    But swoop whole strikes together from his mynes.'
+
+Another piece, 'The Promise. To F.L. Esq., with Crashaw's Poems (1653),'
+has nothing quotable.
+
+(_c_) 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. G.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    As neither Crashaw nor his early Editors furnished Contents to the
+    Epigrammata et Poemata, we are left free to decide thereon; and
+    inasmuch as (_a_) our translations are intended to make Vol. II. as
+    generally accessible and understood as Vol. I, and as (_b_) 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: [x] translated for
+    first time. G.
+
+
+I. SACRED EPIGRAMS, 1-164. 1634-1670.
+
+                                                           TRANS.      PAGE
+
+Note                                                                      2
+
+x        Dedication: Latin, pp. 7-11; English              G., CL.       11
+
+x        To the Reader: Latin, pp. 16-22; English          G.            22
+
+*     1. Two went up into the Temple to pray               CR., B.       35
+
+      2. Upon the asse that bore our Saviour               CR., G.       36
+
+      3. The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own
+         people                                            B.            37
+
+x     4. The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda               CL., G.       37
+
+x     5. Christ to Thomas                                  CL., A.       38
+
+      6. Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall
+         find it                                           A., CR.  39, 206
+
+x     7. Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark,
+         cometh unto the sepulchre                         G.            40
+
+x     8. On the miracle of multiplyed loaves               G.            40
+
+      9. On the baptized Ethiopian                         CR., B.       41
+
+     10. The publican standing afar off, smote on his
+         breast                                            G.            42
+
+*x   11. The widow's mites                                 CR.           43
+
+x    12. Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard
+         His word                                          G.            43
+
+x    13. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.            44
+
+     14. On the Prodigall                                  CR.           45
+
+     15. I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye[1]    CR., G.       45
+
+x    16. On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms      CL.           46
+
+x    17. When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid,
+         &c.                                               G.            46
+
+x    18. He offered them money                             CL.           47
+
+x    19. The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick            G.            47
+
+     20. The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned
+         silence                                           CR., G.       48
+
+     21. And a certaine priest comming that way looked on
+         him, &c.                                          CR., G., A.   49
+
+x    22. The ungrateful lepers                             G.            50
+
+x    23. Be ye not fretted about to-morrow                 G., A.        51
+
+x    24. Matthew called from the receipt of custom         R. WI.        52
+
+x    25. The dead son re-delivered to his mother           CL.           52
+
+     26. It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c.  CR., G.       53
+
+x    27. The man ill of dropsy cured                       G.            54
+
+x    28. There was no room for them in the Inn             G.            55
+
+     29. Upon Lazarus his teares                           CR., G.       55
+
+x    30. Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the
+         Christ                                            G.            56
+
+x    31. But though He had done so many miracles, &c.      CL.           56
+
+x    32. To S. Andrew, fisherman                           G.            57
+
+x    33. I am the voice                                    G.            57
+
+x    34. The chains spontaneously fall off                 G.            58
+
+x    35. On All-Saints' Day                                R. WI.        58
+
+     36. Upon the Powder-day                               CR.           59
+
+x    37. God in the Virgin's womb                          R. WI.        59
+
+x    38. To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen             G.            61
+
+x    39. St. John in exile                                 G.            61
+
+     40. To the infant martyrs                             CR., B.       62
+
+x    41. The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus                    G.            63
+
+     42. I am not worthy, &c.                              CR.           63
+
+     43. And He answered them nothing                      CR., G.       64
+
+x    44. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           65
+
+x    45. The Word among thorns                             G.            65
+
+x    46. The Judaic and Christian Sabbath                  G.            66
+
+     47. The blind cured by the word of our Saviour        CR.           67
+
+x    48. My burden is light                                G.            67
+
+     49. On the miracle of loaves                          CR., R. WI.   67
+
+x    50. Now we know Thee to have a devil                  G.            68
+
+     51. On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness               CR.           69
+
+x    52. On the wounds of our crucified Lord               R. WI.        69
+
+x    53. Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?      G.            71
+
+*    54. Come, see the place where the Lord lay
+         Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord                    CR.           72
+
+x    55. The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)      G.            72
+
+     56. On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's
+         wounds                                            CR., G.       73
+
+     57. The sick implore St. Peter's shadow               CR., G.       74
+
+x    58. Why are ye troubled? Behold My hands, &c.         G.            75
+
+x    59. The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, &c.     G.            75
+
+x    60. From his body there were brought ...
+         handkerchiefs, &c.                                R. WI.        76
+
+x    61. Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father         G.            76
+
+x    62. Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.      CL.           77
+
+     63. But men loved darkness rather than light          CR., B., G.   77
+
+     64. Dives asking a drop                               CR.           78
+
+x    65. How can a man be born when he is old?             R. WI.        79
+
+x    66. The tree dried up by the word of Christ           G.            80
+
+x    67. Zacharias incredulous                             CL.           80
+
+     68. On the water of our Lord's baptisme               CR., B.       81
+
+x    69. The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, &c.      G.            81
+
+x    70. Neither durst any man ... ask Him any more
+         questions                                         G.            82
+
+     71. St. John and his mother                           B.            82
+
+     72. If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down      B.            83
+
+     73. The Lord weeping over the Jews                    B.            83
+
+x    74. Nor even as this publican                         G.            84
+
+x    75. On Saul blinded with too much light               R. WI.        84
+
+     76. Blessed are the eyes which see                    B., G.        85
+
+x    77. Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier
+                                                           R. WI.        85
+
+x    78. On the wise of this world                         R. WI.        86
+
+x    79. The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a
+         precipice                                         G.            87
+
+x    80. The casting down of the dragon                    G.            87
+
+x    81. The blessed Virgin believing                      G.            87
+
+x    82. Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar?           G.            88
+
+x    83. The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the
+         dead                                              G.            89
+
+     84. The fishermen called                              B., G., A.    89
+
+     85. Give to Caesar ... and to God                     CR., G.       90
+
+     86. The Lord borne on the ass                         B., R. WI.    90
+
+x    87. They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud   G.            91
+
+x    88. Except I shall put my fingers, &c.                G.            91
+
+x    89. To the Jews stoning Stephen                       G.            92
+
+x    90. To St. John the beloved disciple                  G.            92
+
+     91. Upon the infant martyrs                           CR., G.       93
+
+x    92. God with us                                       G.            93
+
+     93. The circumcision of Christ: Vol. I. pp. 48-9;
+         and                                               CR.           94
+
+x    94. The Epiphany of our Lord                          CL.           94
+
+x    95. Lo, we have sought Thee, &c.                      G.            95
+
+     96. Water turned into wine                            G., CL., A.   96
+
+x    97. The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant,
+         &c.                                               G.            97
+
+     98. Why are ye so fearful?                            B.            97
+
+x    99. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace      CL.           98
+
+x   100. Good seed in the field                            G.            99
+
+    101. She began to wash His feet, &c.                   CR., CL.      99
+
+x   102. What seekest that I do to thee?                   G.           100
+
+x   103. The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan      G.           101
+
+    104. Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked        CR.          101
+
+x   105. Christ the Vine (including the branches)          G.           102
+
+    106. Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and
+         lament                                            CR.          102
+
+    107. Christ the good Shepherd                          B., CL.      103
+
+    108. On the wounds of the crucified Lord               CR., G.      104
+
+x   109. The paralytic healed                              G.           104
+
+x   110. Then took they up stones                          G.           105
+
+x   111. On the Resurrection of the Lord                   R. WI.       105
+
+x   112. But some doubted                                  R. WI.       106
+
+x   113. The scars of the wounds which the Lord
+         showed, &c.                                       G.           106
+
+x   114. John sends to Jesus, &c.                          CL.          107
+
+    115. On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare         CR.          108
+
+    116. The withered hand healed                          G., B.       108
+
+    117. To Pontius washing his hands                      CR., B.      108
+
+x   118. The stater-giving fish                            G.           109
+
+    119. I have overcome the world                         B., A.       110
+
+x   120. On the ascension of our Lord                      R. WI.       111
+
+*x  121. The descent of the Holy Spirit                    G.           112
+
+x   122. God so loved the world, that He gave His
+         ... Son                                           R. WI.       112
+
+x   123. I have bought five yoke of oxen                   G.           113
+
+x   124. St. Paul healing the lame man with a word, &c.    R. WI.       113
+
+*   125. To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of
+         Christ                                            W.           114
+
+x   126. The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter     G.           115
+
+    127. The Pharisees murmured, &c.                       G., B.       116
+
+x   128. On the beam of the Pharisee                       R. WI.       116
+
+x   129. They determined ... he should be put out
+         of the synagogue                                  A.           117
+
+    130. Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee      CL., B.      117
+
+x   131. To the guests at the miraculous supper of the
+         five loaves                                       R. WI.       118
+
+x   132. Christ overcoming the world                       G.           119
+
+    133. The Grecian disputants go about to kill St.
+         Paul                                              R. WI.       119
+
+x   134. He that is greatest among you, let him be as
+         the younger                                       B.           120
+
+x   135. He beheld the city, and wept over it              R. WI.       120
+
+    136. Christ in Egypt                                   R. WI.       121
+
+x   137. The blind confessing Christ, &c.                  G., B.       121
+
+    138. If any man will come after Me, &c.                G.           122
+
+    139. And he left all ... and followed Him              B., G.       122
+
+    140. Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets           CR., G.      123
+
+x   141. The man with the withered hand, &c.               G.           123
+
+x   142. Luke the beloved physician                        B., A.       124
+
+    143. The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ        G.           125
+
+    144. To the assembly of all the S                      W., A.       125
+
+x   145. Christ heals in absence                           CL.          127
+
+x   146. The man born blind                                B., A.       127
+
+x   147. And they laughed at Him                           G.           127
+
+x   148. The wisdom of the world                           CL.          128
+
+*x  149. On the stable where our Lord was born             A.           128
+
+x   150. St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument  CL.          130
+
+x   151. On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a
+         caldron, &c.                                      CL.          130
+
+x   152. The infant-martyrs                                G.           131
+
+x   153. They brought unto Him all sick people, &c.        R. WI.       131
+
+x   154. A sword shall pierce through thy own soul         G.           132
+
+x   155. On the blood of the Lord's circumcision           R. WI.       133
+
+x   156. The Child Jesus among the doctors                 R. WI.       134
+
+    157. To our Lord, upon the water made wine             CR., G.      135
+
+x   158. The Infant Christ is presented to the Father
+         in the Temple                                     R. WI.       135
+
+x   159. The leper beseeching                              G.           136
+
+    160. Why are ye afraid?                                CR., B.      137
+
+x   161. They teach customs, &c.                           R. WI.       138
+
+*x  162. Command that this stone become a loaf             G.           139
+
+    163. The woman of Canaan                               R. WI.       139
+
+    164. Upon the dumbe devill cast out, &c.               CR.          140
+
+x   165. They said, This is of a truth that Prophet        R. WI.       141
+
+x   166. It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's
+         porch                                             R. WI.       141
+
+x   167. They gave large money to the soldiers             R. WI.       142
+
+x   168. To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic
+         salutation                                        R. WI.       143
+
+    169. To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands        CR.          144
+
+x   170. On the day of the Lord's Passion                  R. WI.       144
+
+x   171. On the day of the Lord's Resurrection, &c.        A.           146
+
+x   172. On the scars of the Lord still remaining          R. WI.       147
+
+x   173. My peace I give unto you                          R. WI.       149
+
+x   174. Paul's conversion and blindness                   CL.          149
+
+x   175. I am the Way, &c.                                 R. WI.       150
+
+x   176. On the night and winter journey of the Infant
+         Lord                                              R. WI.       150
+
+x   177. I do not say that I will pray the Father for
+         you                                               A.           157
+
+*x  178. On the day of the Lord's Ascension                R. WI.       159
+
+*x  179. The blind man implores Christ                     R. WI.       160
+
+*x  180. What man of you having an hundred sheep, &c.      R. WI.       161
+
+*x  181. To Herod beheading St. James                      R. WI.       162
+
+*x  182. The blind men having received their sight, &c.    R. WI.       163
+
+*   183. Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree                     R. WI.       164
+
+    184. On our crucified Lord, naked and bloody           CR.          164
+
+    185. Sampson to his Dalilah                            CR.          164
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS, 165-6.
+
+      1. Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice'
+         and 'The Broken Heart'                                         165
+
+      2. Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, &c.                                  165
+
+      3. On marriage                                                    165
+
+      4. On Nanus mounted upon an ant                                   165
+
+      5. Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes                           166
+
+      6. Vpon the same                                                  166
+
+      7. Out of Martiall                                                166
+
+
+II. SACRED EPIGRAMS, NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 167-205.
+
++x    1. St. Paul and the viper                            G.           169
+
++x    2. The miracle of the loaves                         G.           169
+
++x    3. Of the tears of the suffering Christ              G.           170
+
++x    4. The sepulchre of the Lord                         G.           171
+
++x    5. The parting words of Love                         G.           172
+
++x    6. Herod devoured of worms                           G.           172
+
++x    7. It is good to be here                             G.           173
+
++x    8. Look on the lilies, &c.                           R. WI.       173
+
++x    9. The deaf healed                                   R. WI.       173
+
++x   10. The modesty of the blessed Virgin                 G.           174
+
++x   11. I send you as lambs, &c.                          G.           174
+
++x   12. Christ carried by the devil                       G.           175
+
++x   13. St. John the Baptist a voice                      G.           175
+
++x   14. John the Voice, Christ the Word                   G.           176
+
++x   15. On the birth of the Lord, &c.                     G.           176
+
++x   16. Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians        G.           177
+
++x   17. I am the True Vine                                G.           178
+
++x   18. The departure of Christ lamented, &c.             G.           178
+
++x   19. On the descent of the Holy Spirit                 R. WI.       179
+
++x   20. Life and Death                                    G.           179
+
++    21. I am the Doore                                    CR., G.      180
+
++    22. Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's
+         head, &c.                                         CR., G.      181
+
++x   23. Nicodemus                                         G.           181
+
++x   24. To Domitian, concerning St. John, &c.             R. WI.       183
+
++x   25. The voice of the Baptist                          G.           183
+
++x   26. On St. Peter loosed by the angel                  R. WI.       184
+
++    27. On St. Peter casting away his nets, &c.           CR., G.      184
+
++x   28. The Lamb of God, &c.                              G.           185
+
++x   29. The miraculous draught of fishes                  G.           186
+
++x   30. Lord, not my feet only, &c.                       G.           186
+
++x   31. Though they beheld so many miracles, &c.          G.           186
+
++x   32. On the cloud which received the Lord              R. WI.       187
+
++x   33. He saw the city, and wept over it                 G.           188
+
++x   34. Nor even as this publican                         R. WI.       189
+
++x   35. His Disciples came and awoke Him                  R. WI.       189
+
++x   36. The woman of Canaan                               G.           189
+
++x   37. Wherefore sitteth your Master with sinners, &c.   G.           191
+
++x   38. Miracles of healing, &c.                          G.           191
+
++x   39. To St. Luke the physician                         R. WI.       192
+
++x   40. He bears His own cross                            G.           193
+
++    41. Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse, &c.   CR., G.      194
+
++x   42. And they spat upon Him                            G.           194
+
++x   43. He besought that He would go with him, &c.        G.           194
+
++x   44. For dread came upon him, &c.                      G.           196
+
++    45. But now they have seen and hated                  CR., G.      196
+
++x   46. The blind suppliant                               G.           197
+
++x   47. The Pharisees insidiously watching, &c.           G.           199
+
++x   48. Touched the hem of His garment, &c.               R. WI.       200
+
++x   49. The departing Saviour                             R. WI.       200
+
++x   50. Paul unfearing [page 45, and]                     G.           201
+
++x   51. The message of the Baptist to Christ              R. WI.       202
+
++x   52. Gifts to Jesus                                    R. WI.       202
+
++x   53. On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition          R. WI.       203
+
++    54. Upon our Saviour's tombe, &c.                     CR., G.      204
+
++x   55. On the Holy Spirit descending, &c.                R. WI.       205
+
++    56. Life for death                                    CR.          205
+
++x   57. On the Divine love                                CR.          205
+
+
+III. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED, 207-218.
+
+x        Faith, which alone justifies, exists not without
+         hope and love                                     G.           209
+
+x        Baptism cancels not after-sins                    CL.          216
+
+
+IV. LATIN POEMS. PART FIRST: SACRED. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 219-242.
+
++        Psalm 1.                                                       221
+
++x       Wrath of the judgment-whirlwind                   R. WI.       221
+
++x       Even so: come, Lord Jesus                         R. WI.       223
+
++x       Circumcision of Christ                            R. WI.       225
+
++x       The Virgin Mary, on losing the Child Jesus        R. WI.       229
+
++x       War in heaven                                     R. WI.       231
+
++x       We do not receive, but make, a short life         R. WI.       233
+
++x       Martyrs                                           R. WI.       235
+
++x       Hope                                              R. WI.       237
+
++x       On Stephen's crown                                R. WI.       239
+
+x        Jesus Christ's expostulation with an ungrateful
+         world                                             R. WI.       241
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 243-92.
+
+I. _From 'Steps to the Temple' and 'Delights of the Muses.'_
+
+x        The Bubble                                        G.           247
+
+x        Peace of mind, under the similitude of a captive
+         song-bird                                         G.           258
+
+x        Gain out of loss                                  G.           263
+
+x        Description of human life                         R. WI.       266
+
+x        On Pygmalion                                      A., G.       269
+
+x        Arion                                             G.           273
+
+x        On Apollo pining for Daphne                       G.           279
+
+x        Aeneas the bearer of his father                   G.           283
+
+x        Of the generation and regeneration of the Phoenix  G.          284
+
+x        Epitaph                                           A., G.       286
+
+x        Elegy                                             R. WI.       289
+
+x        Woman a treasury of evils                         G.           290
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR. NEVER BEFORE PRINTED, 293-330.
+
+II. _Miscellaneous and Commemorative._
+
++x       The beautiful not lasting                         G.           296
+
++x       A hymn to Venus                                   G.           300
+
++x       A description of Spring                           R. WI.       303
+
++x       Priscianus beaten and being beaten                R. WI.       308
+
++x       To a Tractate on this subject, &c.                R. WI.       315
+
++        Purgation                                                      317
+
++x       To my most estimable preceptor ... R. Brooke      R. WI.       319
+
+x        On death of Rev. Dr. Mansell                      R. WI.       323
+
+x        To the Right Hon. Lord Robert Heath, on being
+         made a judge, &c.                                 R. WI.       326
+
++        Ode on Horace, Lib. ii. 13, in Greek                           329
+
+
+LATIN POEMS. PART SECOND: SECULAR, 331-84.
+
+III. _Royal and Academical._
+
+x        The Return of the King                            A.           333
+
+x        To the royal Infant not yet born                  R. WI.       335
+
+x        To the King on recovery from small-pox            R. WI.       337
+
+x        To her serene Majesty child-bearing in winter     R. WI.       339
+
+x        To the Queen                                      CL.          342
+
+x        To the Queen ... from the university              R. WI.       345
+
+x        On birth of Princess Mary                         CL.          346
+
++x       On the same                                       R. WI.       350
+
+x        To the Queen                                      R. WI.       354
+
+x        The prayer of Peterhouse for the House of God
+         [=its chapel]                                     S.S.         357
+
+x        A groan on occasion of the difficult parturition
+         of the remaining works of Peterhouse              R. WI., G.   362
+
+x        To the venerable man, Master Tournay, &c.         CL.          371
+
+x        To Master Brooke                                  R. WI.       374
+
+x        Epitaph on Dr. Brooke                             R. WI.       376
+
+x        Epitaph on William Herries                        G.           378
+
+x        On the same                                       R. WI.       383
+
+x        On the Portrait of Bishop Andrewes                CR.          384
+
+
+Glossarial Index                                                        385
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. II. 4TO.
+
+Photograph of the Cartoon for the memorial-window to
+Crashaw in Peterhouse, by F. Madox-Brown, Esq. R.A.    _facing title-page._
+
+The captive Song-bird, by Mrs. Blackburn               _vignette to Essay._
+
+Vignette illustrations, by W.J. Linton, Esq. _pp._  96, 242, 251, 295, 329,
+                                                             350, 373, 377.
+
+
+
+
+ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND POETRY OF CRASHAW.[2]
+
+
+In our Memorial-Introduction (vol. i. p. xxvi.) we make two promises,
+which fall now to be redeemed:
+
+(_a_) A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+(_b_) A MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D., HIS FATHER.
+
+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.
+
+
+I. MEMOIR OF WILLIAM CRASHAW, B.D.
+
+The late laborious and accurate Joseph Hunter, in his MS. collections
+yclept Chorus Vatum, which by rare good fortune are preserved in the
+British Museum (Addl. MSS. 24.487, pp. 34-39), thus begins, _s.n._
+
+'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 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.'
+
+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
+'_his own_' otherwise--though in strong, even fierce, antagonism as
+Divine and Writer to his gentle-natured son's after-opinions.
+
+Hitherto, in the brief and meagre notices of his son, and of the
+paternal Crashaw, it has simply been stated that he was a
+'_Yorkshireman_.' 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 MSS., 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.[3]
+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:
+
+'1572, October 26th, WILL., 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 Eairl [_sic_] 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.
+
+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.[4] That we are right in all this is made
+certain by his Will, wherein our Crashaw (_pater_) 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.'[5] So far as I can
+gather from several family-tables which have been furnished to me,
+_the_ 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: _e.g._ 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.[6] Our Worthy had life-long intercourse and life-long
+friendships with the foremost in Yorkshire, as his Will genially and
+quaintly testifies.
+
+Fatherless in his 13th-14th year, his widowed mother must have been in
+circumstances pecuniarily that enabled her to have William, at least,
+'_prepared_' for the University. He was of renowned 'St. John's,'
+Cambridge, designated by him his 'deere nurse and spirituall mother.'[7]
+A MS. 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 Dna Fundatrice, authoritate Regia, sede vacante Epi. Elien. 19 Jan.
+1593.'[8] Such is the 'entry' as given by Baker; 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.e._ 1593-4]. The
+Bishop of Ely had the right of nominating one Fellow.[9] 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 '_deprived_' of a 'little vicarage' ('A Discourse on Popish
+Corruptions requiring a Kingly Reformation:' MS. in Royal Library).
+Inquiries at Bridlington, 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.
+
+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.'
+
+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.'[10] 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 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.
+
+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 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 _to the child of her
+predecessor_--a rare vertue [as he noted] in step-mothers at this
+day.'[11] 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.[12]
+
+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.[13] Next
+is this: 'The Parable of Poyson. In Five 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' (Scotice), 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 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.
+
+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 _by others_--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 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 _my sonne Richarde_ executors of my Will' (10th June
+1622).[14]
+
+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 Caesar 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. Bononiae &c.' (1613), to
+Shakespeare's Earl of Southampton, _as to a trusted friend_, 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.
+
+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;' '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.
+
+
+TO OUR LADY OF HALL AND THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    'My thoughts are at a stand, of milke and blood,
+      Delights of brest and side, which yeelds most good;
+    And say, when on the teates mine eyes I cast,
+      O Lady, of thy brest I beg a taste.
+    But if mine eyes upon the wounds doe glide,
+      Then, Jesu, I had rather sucke Thy side.
+    Long have I mused, now knowe I where to rest;
+      For with my right hand I will graspe the brest,
+    If so I may presume: as for the wounds,
+      With left He catch them; thus my zeale abounds.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'Mother and Son, give eare to what I crave,
+      I beg this milke, that bloud, and both would have.
+    Youngling, that in Thy mother's armes art playing,
+      Sucking her brest sometimes, and sometimes staying,
+    Why dost Thou view me with that looke of scorne?
+      'Tis forceless envie that 'gainst Thee is borne.
+    Oft hast Thou said, being angry at my sinne,
+      Darest thou desire the teates My food lyes in?
+    I will not, oh I dare not, golden Child;
+      My mind from feare is not so farre exild:
+    But one, even one poore drop I doe implore
+      From Thy right hand or side, I ask no more.
+    If neither, from Thy left hand let one fall;
+      Nay from Thy foot, rather than none at all:
+    If I displease Thee, let Thy wounds me wound,
+      But pay my wage if I in grace be found.'
+
+Finally:
+
+    'But ah, I thirst; ah, droght my breath doth smother,
+      Quench me with blood, sweet Son; with milk, good mother
+    Say to Thy mother, See My brother's thirst;
+      Mother, your milke will ease him at the first.
+    Say to thy Son, Behold Thy brother's bands;
+      Sweet Son, Thou hast his ransome in Thy hands.
+    Shew Thy redeeming power to soules opprest,
+      Thou Sonne, if that Thy blood excel the rest.
+    And shew Thyselfe justly so stilde indeed,
+      Thou mother, if thy brests the rest exceed.
+    Ah, when shall I with these be satisfi'd?
+      When shall I swimme in joyes of brest and side?
+    Pardon, O God, mine eager earnestnesse,
+      If I Thy lawes and reason's bounds transgresse;
+    Where thirst o're-swayes, patience is thrust away:
+      Stay but my thirst, and then my cryes will stay.
+    I am better then Thy nailes; yet did a streame
+      Of Thy deere bloud wash both the lance and them.
+    More worthy I then clouts; yet them a flood
+      Moistened of mother's milke and of Son's blood.'
+
+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 Animae 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:
+
+    'In silence of a Winter's night,
+    A sleeping yet a walking spirit;
+      A livelesse body to my sight
+      Methought appeared, thus addight.
+
+    In that my sleepe I did descry
+    A Soule departed but lately
+      From that foule body which lay by;
+      Wailing with sighes, and loud did cry.
+
+    Fast by the body, thus she mones
+    And questions it, with sighes and grones;
+      O wretched flesh, thus low who makes thee lye,
+      Whom yesterday the world had seene so high?
+
+    Was't not but yesterday the world was thine,
+      And all the countrey stood at thy devotion?
+    Thy traine that followed thee when thy sunne did shine
+      Have now forsaken thee: O dolefull alteration!
+
+    Those turrets gay of costly masonry,
+      And larger palaces, are not now thy roome;
+    But in a coffin of small quantity
+      Thou lyest interred in a little tombe.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    O wretched flesh, with me that art forlorne,
+      If thou couldst know how sharpe our punishment;
+    How justly mightest thou wish not to be borne,
+      Or from the wombe to tombe to have been hent!
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    How lik'st thou now, poor foole, thy latter lodging,
+      The roofe whereof lyes even with thy nose?
+    Thy eyes are shut, thy tongue cannot be cogging;
+      Nothing of profit rests at thy dispose.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thy garments, wretched fool, are farre from rich;
+      Thy upper garment hardly worth a scute;
+    A little linnen shrouds thee in thy ditch,
+      No rents nor gifts men bring, nor make their suite.'
+
+Again, st. 79-81:
+
+    'If I be clad in rich array,
+    And well attended every day,
+    Both wise and good I shal be thoght,
+    My kinred also shall be sought.
+    I am, say men, the case is cleere,
+    Your cosen, sir, a kinsman neere.
+    But if the world doe change and frowne,
+    Our kinred is no longer knowne;
+    Nor I remembred any more
+    By them that honoured me before.
+    O vanity! vile love of mucke,
+    Foule poyson, wherefore hast thou stucke
+    Thyselfe so deepe, to raise so high
+    Things vanishing so suddenly?'
+
+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).
+
+    'This is Christian faith unfained,
+    Orthodoxall, true, unstained.
+    As I teach, all understand,
+    Yeelding unto neither hand.
+    And in this my soule's defence,
+    Reiect me not for mine offence:
+    Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation
+    I fly in death to seek salvation.
+    I have no meane Thy love to gain,
+    But this faith which I maintaine.
+    This Thou seest, nor will I cease
+    By this to beg for a release.
+    Let this sacred salve be bound
+    Vpon my sores, to make them sound.
+    Though man be carried forth, and lying
+    In his grave, and putrifying:
+    Bound and hid from mortall eyes;
+    Yet if Thou bid, he must arise.
+    At Thy will the grave will open,
+    At Thy will his bonds are broken.
+    And forth he comes without delay,
+    If Thou but once bid, Come away!
+    In this sea of dread and doubt
+    My poore barke is tost about;
+    With storms and pirats far and wide,
+    Death and woes on every side.
+    Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest,
+    Calme these winds that me molest;
+    Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence,
+    And show me some safe residence.
+    My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead,
+    All the boughs are withered;
+    Downe it must, and to the fire,
+    If desert have his due hire.
+    But spare it, Lord, another yeare.
+    With manuring it [yet] may beare.
+    If it then be dead and dry,
+    Burne it; alas, what remedy!
+    Mine old foe assaults me sore
+    With fire and water, more and more.
+    Poore I, of all my strength bereft,
+    Onely unto Thee am left.
+    That my foe may hence be chased,
+    And I from Ruin's clawes released,
+    Lord, vouchsafe me every day
+    Strength to fast, and faith to pray:
+    These two meanes Thyself hast taught
+    To bring temptation's force to noght.
+    Lord, free my soule from sin's infection
+    By repentance's direction.
+    Be Thy feare in me abiding,
+    My soule to true salvation guiding.
+    Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love,
+    Zeale of heaven and things above.
+    Teach mee prize the world at nought;
+    On Thy blisse be all my thought.
+    All my hopes on Thee I found,
+    In Whom all good things abound.
+    Thou art all my dignitie:
+    All I have I have from Thee.
+    Thou art my comfort in distresse,
+    Thou art my cure in heavinesse;
+    Thou art my music in my sadnes,
+    Thou art my medicine in my madnesse.
+    Thou my freedom from my thral,
+    Thou my raiser from my fall.
+    In my labour Thou reliev'st me;
+    Thou reform'st whatever grieves me.
+    Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth,
+    And from hurt my soul defendeth.
+    Thou my deepest doubts revealest,
+    Thou my secret faults concealest.
+    O do Thou stay my feet from treading
+    In paths to hel and horror leading,
+    Where eternal torment dwels,
+    With fears and tears and lothsome smels;
+    Where man's deepest shame is sounded,
+    And the guilty still confounded;
+    Where the scourge for ever beateth,
+    And the worme that alwaies eateth;
+    Where all those endless do remain,
+    Lord, preserve us from this paine.
+    In Sion lodge me, Lord, for pitty--
+    Sion, David's kingly citty,
+    Built by Him that's onely good;
+    Whose gates be of the Crosse's wood;
+    Whose keys are Christ's undoubted word;
+    Whose dwellers feare none but the Lord;
+    Whose wals are stone, strong, quicke and bright;
+    Whose Keeper is the Lord of Light:
+    Here the light doth never cease,
+    Endlesse Spring and endles peace;
+    Here is musicke, heaven filling,
+    Sweetnesse evermore distilling;
+    Here is neither spot nor taint,
+    No defect, nor no complaint;
+    No man crooked, great nor small,
+    But to Christ conformed all.
+    Blessed towne, divinely graced,
+    On a rocke so strongly placed,
+    Thee I see, and thee I long for;
+    Thee I seek, and thee I grone for.
+    O what ioy thy dwellers tast,
+    All in pleasure first and last!
+    What full enioying blisse divine,
+    What iewels on thy wals do shine!
+    Ruby, iacinth, chalcedon,
+    Knowne to them within alone.
+    In this glorious company,
+    In the streets of Sion, I
+    With Iob, Moses, and Eliah,
+    Will sing the heauenly Alleviah. Amen.
+
+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.
+
+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
+
+
+II. A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
+
+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.
+
+I think I shall be able to say what has struck myself as worth saying
+about Crashaw, under these three things:
+
+I. His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, using the terms
+as historic words, not polemically.
+
+II. His friends and associates, as celebrated in his Writings.
+
+III. His characteristics and place as a Poet. These successively.
+
+I. _His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism._ From our Memoir
+of his Father it will be apparent to all that _he_ 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.[15] 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.[16] 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 MSS. on the _Gunpowder Treason_ (vol. i.
+pp. 188-194) are 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:
+
+
+A CONCLUSION TO THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKE.
+
+    Tradition and antiquitie, the ground
+      Whereon that erring Church doth so relye,
+    Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound
+      The novel doctrine of their heresie,
+    Which plaine by these most sensible degrees
+      Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall;
+    Where each observing iudgement plainely sees,
+      From good to bad, from bad to worst of all
+    It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire,
+      Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may,
+    To blinde this truth; to no step any higher
+      By any policie it can essay.
+    These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale
+      And meditations of most pious use,
+    Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale:
+      Free from impiety, or least abuse,
+    Blot out all merit in ourselves we have,
+      And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye:
+    Offer not prayers for those are in the grave,
+      Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry.
+    Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd
+      From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage,
+    Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd
+      To passe among the good things of this Age,
+    Yet are in this respect of more regard,
+      Since God would have them to these times appeare,
+    So many having perisht; and be heard
+      With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare.
+    By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart,
+      Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not,
+    He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part,
+      That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.
+
+                                                        B.L.
+
+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 '_change_' 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,' _id est_, 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,' 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.[17] 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,
+STEPS 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' 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_est_ 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:
+
+    'Thus haue I back again to thy bright name,
+    Fair floud of holy fires! transfus'd the flame
+    I took from reading thee....
+    ... O pardon, if I dare to say
+    Thine own dear bookes are guilty.'  (vol. i. p. 150.)
+
+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.[18] Going back on the
+'Hymn,' such lines as these show how even then the Poet had drunk-in the
+very passion of Teresa: _e.g._
+
+    'Loue toucht her heart, and, lo, it beates
+    High, and burnes with such braue heates,
+    Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp
+    _A thousand cold deathes in one cup_.
+    Good reason: for she breathes all fire;
+    Her white breast heaues with strong desire.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Sweet, not so fast! lo, thy fair Spouse,
+    Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes,
+    Calls thee back, and bidds thee come
+    T'embrace a milder martyrdom.
+      Blest powres forbid thy tender life
+    Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife:
+    Or some base hand have power to raze
+    Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase
+    A soul kept there so sweet: O no,
+    Wise Heaun will neuer haue it so.
+    Thou art Love's victime, and must dy
+    A death more mystical and high:
+    Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall
+    A still-suruiuing funerall.
+    His is the dart must make the death
+    Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath;
+    A dart thrice dipt in that rich flame
+    Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name
+    Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay
+    It shines; and with a soueraign ray
+    Beates bright vpon the burning faces
+    Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces
+    Find everlasting smiles.  .  .
+    O how oft shalt thou complain
+    Of a sweet and subtle pain;
+    Of intolerable ioyes;
+    Of a death, in which who dyes
+    Loues his death, and dyes again,
+    And would for ever so be slain,
+    And liues and dyes; and knowes not why
+    To live, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy.'
+
+It is deeply significant to find such a Hymn as that written while 'yet
+among the Protestants.' Putting the two things together--(_a_) his
+recluse, shy, meditative life 'under Tertullian's roofe of angels,' and
+his prayers THERE in the night; (_b_) 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 drew him to such literature, and the
+literature fed what perchance demanded rather to be neutralised.[19] 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 Aeolian 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.e._ 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 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 _the_ 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.
+
+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 coeli."
+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, 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.
+
+Thus from all sides came potent influences of personal friendship--of
+his friends and associates more onward--to give impulse and _momentum_
+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
+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.
+
+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 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
+oecumenical 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 Mecaenas, 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.).
+
+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 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.[20] 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 _Seguita_ (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 '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--(_a_) 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: (_b_) 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: (_c_) 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 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.[21] I pass
+to--
+
+II. _His friends and associates, as celebrated in his writings._ I use
+the word 'Writings' here rather than 'Poems,' because in his Epistles,
+_e.g._ 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.[22]
+Very little has come down to us concerning 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 praeceptori 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).
+
+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 MSS. 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).
+
+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 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, _pro Gradu_, the last
+week, upon Rom. iii. 28, he said he came not _palinodiam canere, sed
+eandem cantilenam canere_; 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 _Die Comitiorum_, 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, quae 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).[23]
+
+Robert Shelford, 'of Ringsfield in Suffolk, Priest,' was another
+'_suspect_:' as in Huntley's [ = Prynne] _Breviate_ (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 _ut famosi
+Perni amanuensem possis agnoscere_. 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.).[24] So with James Stanninow (or
+Staninough), 'fellow of Queene's 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).[25] 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).[26]
+
+It only remains that I notice our Crashaw's friendship with (_a_)
+Abraham Cowley; (_b_) the Countess of Denbigh.
+
+(_a_) ABRAHAM COWLEY. 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
+Votivae.' 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.[27]
+
+(_b_) COUNTESS OF DENBIGH. 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 MSS. 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 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 _she_ became a Roman Catholic,[28] 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 _supra_). These in order:
+
+
+I. Buckingham to his Mother [undated]:
+
+    Dere Mother,--Give me but as many blessings and pardons as I shall
+    make falts, and then you make happie
+
+  Your most obedient Sonne,
+
+  For my Mother.                          BUCKINGHAM.
+
+
+II. Susan, Countess of Denbigh, to Lord Fielding:
+
+    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.
+
+    Your loveing Mother,
+
+    For my deare Sonne theise.      SU. DENBIGH.
+
+
+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.[29] 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 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
+
+III. _His characteristics and place as a Poet._ 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
+MSS.; 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: (_a_) Imaginative-sensuousness;
+(_b_) Subtlety of emotion; (_c_) Epigrams; (_d_) Translations and
+(briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry. I would say a little on each.
+
+(_a_) _Imaginative-sensuousness._ 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, _sensuous_, and passionate;' and I qualify 'sensuousness' 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!
+
+    'Heauns thy fair eyes be;
+      Heauens of ever-falling starres.
+      'Tis seed-time still with thee;
+      And starres thou sow'st whose haruest dares
+    Promise the Earth to counter-shine
+    Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine.'
+
+How grandly vague is that 'counter-shine _whatever_,' 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.:
+
+      'The deaw no more will weep                                _dew_
+      The primrose's pale cheek to deck:
+      The deaw no more will sleep
+      Nuzzel'd in the lily's neck;
+    Much rather would it be thy tear,
+    And leaue them both to tremble there.'
+
+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, '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:
+
+    'We goe not to seek
+      The darlings of Aurora's bed,
+      The rose's modest cheek,
+      Nor the violet's humble head,
+    Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be,
+    Because they want such teares as we.
+      Much lesse mean to trace
+      The fortune of inferior gemmes,
+      Preferr'd to some proud face,
+      Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems:
+    _Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet_
+    A worthy object, our _Lord's feet_.'
+
+'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.'
+
+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: for the Critic ought to have marked how the
+Poet's 'shoes' are put off his feet in approaching the weeping
+Magdalene; but that _she_ 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 exceptions only
+establishing the rule). His epithets are never superfluous, and are,
+even to surprising nicety, true. Thus he calls Egypt '_white_ 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.[30] Similarly we have '_hir'd_ mist' (vol. i.
+p. 84); '_pretious_ losse' (ib.); '_fair-ey'd_ fallacy of Day' (ib. p.
+85); '_black_ but faithfull perspectiue of Thee' (ib. p. 86); '_abased_
+liddes' (ib. p. 88); '_gratious_ robbery' (ib. p. 156); 'thirsts of
+loue' (ib.); '_timerous_ light of starres' (ib. p. 172); '_rebellious_
+eye of Sorrow' (ib. p. 112); and so in hundreds of parallels. Take this
+from 'To the Name above every Name' (ib. p. 60):
+
+            'O come away ...
+    O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope--
+    Love's eastern windowes--all wide ope
+            With curtains drawn,
+    To catch the day-break of Thy dawn.
+    O, dawn at last, long-lookt-for Day,
+    Take thine own wings, and come away.'
+
+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,
+
+    Since 'tis not to be had at home
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    She'l to the Moores and martyrdom.'[31]
+
+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 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 _proper then_ and _true now_, 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.
+
+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).
+
+I thank Dr. George Macdonald[32] (in 'Antiphon') for 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.[33]
+
+(_b_) _Subtlety of emotion._ Dr. Donne, in a memorable passage, with
+daring originality, sings of Mrs. Drury rapturously:
+
+                  'Her pure and eloquent soul
+    Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,
+    That one might almost say her body thought.'
+
+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 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:
+
+    'Incense of love's and fancie's _holy smoak_;'
+
+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):
+
+    'Leaue her ... the flaming heart:
+    Leaue her that, and thou shalt leaue her
+    Not one loose shaft, but Loue's whole quiver.
+    _For in Loue's feild was neuer found
+    A nobler weapon than a wovnd._
+    Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part,
+    The wounded is the wounding heart.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill,
+    And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still.'
+
+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 _Man_, 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 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:
+
+      'So, when the Year takes cold, we see
+      Poor waters _their own prisoners be;
+      Fetter'd and lock'd-up fast they lie
+      In a cold self-captivity_.
+    Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deplore,
+    To find themselves their own severer shoar.'
+
+Young is striking in his use of the ice-metaphor:
+
+                  'in Passion's flame
+    Hearts melt; but _melt like ice, soon harder froze_.'
+
+  (Night-Thoughts, N. II. l. 522-3.)
+
+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: _e.g._
+
+                  'Midnight veil'd his face:
+    Not such as this, not such as Nature makes;
+    A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold;
+    A midnight new; a dread eclipse, without
+    Opposing spheres, from her Creator's frown.'
+
+  (Night IV. ll. 246-250.)
+
+So in 'Gilt was Hell's gloom' (N. VII. l. 1041), and in this portrait of
+Satan:
+
+    'Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll
+    His baleful eyes!'       (N. IX. ll. 280-1.) and
+
+                  'the fiery gulf,
+    That flaming bound of wrath omnipotent;'  (Ib. ll. 473-4)
+
+and
+
+    'Banners streaming as the comet's blaze;' (Ib. l. 323)
+
+and
+
+    'Which makes a hell of hell,' (Ib. l. 340)
+
+we have the impress and inspiration of our Poet.
+
+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!--
+
+    'Peace, good Reader, doe not weep;
+    Peace, the louers are asleep.
+    They, sweet turtles, folded ly
+    In the last knott that Loue could ty.
+    And though they ly as they were dead,
+    Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead
+    (Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm),
+    Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm:
+    Let them sleep; let them sleep on,
+    Till this stormy night be gone,
+    And the aeternall morrow dawn;
+    Then ...' (vol. i. pp. 230-1.)
+
+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):
+
+    'In bonds of love united, man and wife,
+    Long, yet too short, they spent a happy life;
+    United still, too soon, however late,
+    Both man and wife receiv'd the stroke of fate:
+    And now in glory clad, enraptur'd pair,
+    The same bright cup, the same sweet draught they share.
+    Thus, first and last, a married couple see,
+    In life, in death, in immortality.'
+
+There is much beauty also in an anonymous epitaph in the 'Festoon' 143,
+'On a Man and his Wife:'
+
+    'Here sleep, whom neither life nor love,
+      Nor friendship's strictest tie,
+    Could in such close embrace as thou,
+      Their faithful grave, ally;
+    Preserve them, each dissolv'd in each,
+      For bands of love divine,
+    For union only more complete,
+      Thou faithful grave, than thine.' (p. 253.)
+
+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 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):
+
+
+'HERBERT AND CRASHAW.
+
+
+    When unto Herbert's Temple I ascend
+    By Crashaw's Steps, I do resolve to mend
+    My lighter verse, and my low notes to raise,
+    And in high accent sing my Maker's praise.
+    Meanwhile these sacred poems in my sight
+    I place, that I may learn to write.'
+
+(_c_) _Epigrams._ 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.
+LIV. (2) and XI.; and continues with No. XIV., and next LIV. (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. I.[34] We too may give
+it:
+
+      '_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.' (vol. ii. p. 35.)
+
+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. XLII., 'containing a
+similar lesson;' and finally No. XLV. p. 196, whereof he says: 'The
+following is a world-wide intercession for them that know not what they
+do. 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).
+
+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. CXVII., '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):
+
+    'O cursed Pilate, villain dyed in grain,
+    A little water cannot purge thy stain;
+    No, Tanais can't do't, nor yet the main.
+    Dost thou condemn a Deity to death,
+    Him whose mere love gave and preserv'd thy breath?'
+
+Similarly, under No. LI. 'On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness,' he has
+this: 'Some lines "To the Blessed Virgin at her Purification," by the
+old epigrammatist Bancroft, are almost as beautiful in sentiment as
+this exquisite piece (Book ii. 86):
+
+    Why, favourite of Heaven, most fair,
+    Dost thou bring fowls for sacrifice?
+    Will not the armful thou dost bear,
+    That lovely Lamb of thine, suffice?'
+
+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):
+
+    'When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine
+    Inspir'd cold water with the warmth of wine;
+    See! cried they, while in red'ning tide it gush'd,
+    The bashful stream hath seen its God, and _blush'd_.'
+
+Dryden's 'The conscious water saw its God, and blush'd,' is a mere
+remembrance of Crashaw.[35]
+
+(_d_) _Translations and (briefly) Latin and Greek Poetry._ 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 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:
+
+    Jam Sol a medio pronus deflexerat orbe
+    Mitius, e radiis vibrans crinalibus ignem.
+    Cum Fidicen, propter Tiberina fluenta, sonanti
+    Lenibat plectra curas, aestumque levabat,
+    Ilice defensus nigra scenaque virenti.
+    Audiit hunc hospes silvae Philomela propinquae
+    Musa loci, nemoris siren, innoxia siren;
+    Et prope succedens stetit abdita frondibus, alte
+    Accipiens sonitum, secumque remurmurat, et quos
+    Ille modos variat digitis, haec gutture reddit.
+    Sensit se Fidicen Philomela imitante referri,
+    Et placuit ludum volucri dare; plenius ergo
+    Explorat citharam, tentamentumque futurae
+    Praebeat ut pugnae, percussit protinus omnes
+    Impulsu pernice fides, nec segnius illa.
+    Mille per excurrens variae discrimina vocis,
+    Venturi specimen praefert argutula cantus.
+    Tunc Fidicen per fila movens trepidantia dextram,
+    Nunc contemnenti similis diverberat ungue,
+    Depectitque pari chordas, et simplice ductu:
+    Nunc carptim replicat, digitisque micantibus urget
+    Fila minutatim, celerique repercutit ictu.
+    Mox silet. Illa modis totidem respondet, et artem
+    Arte refert. Nunc seu rudis aut incerta canendi
+    Projicit in longum, nulloque plicatile flexu
+    Carmen init, simili serie, jugique tenore,
+    Praebet iter liquidum labenti e pectore voce;
+    Nunc caesim variat, modulisque canora minutis.
+    Delibrat vocem, tremuloque reciprocat ore.
+    Miratur Fidicen parvis e faucibus ire
+    Tam varium, tam dulce melos; majoraque tentans
+    Alternat mira arte fides; dum torquet acutas
+    Inciditque, graves operoso verbere pulsat,
+    Permiscetque simul certantia rauca sonoris,
+    Ceu resides in bella viros clangore lacessat.
+    Hoc etiam Philomela canit: dumque ore liquenti
+    Vibrat acuta sonum, modulisque interplicat acquis;
+    Ex inopinato gravis intonat, et leve murmur
+    Turbinat introrsus, alternantique sonore
+    Clarat, et infuscat ceu martia classica pulset.
+    Scilicet erubuit Fidicen, ...
+    Non imitabilibus plectrum concentibus urget.
+    Namque manu per fila volat, simul hos, simul illos
+    Explorat numeros, chordaque laborat in omni,
+    Et strepit, et tinnit, crescitque superbius, et se
+    Multiplicat religens, plenoque choreumate plaudit.[36]
+
+It will be noted by the student that such word-painting as in these
+lines belongs to Crashaw, not Strada:
+
+                            'and streightway she
+    _Carves out her dainty voyce as readily_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Through the sleeke passage of her open throat
+    _A clear unwrinckled song_;
+           .       .       .       .       .
+          closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all,
+    _Hoarce, shrill at once; as when the trumpets call
+    Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo
+    Men's hearts into their hands_:'
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                      staggers in a warbling doubt
+    _Of dallying sweetnesse_, hovers o'er her skill,
+    _And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                              a tide
+    Of streaming sweetnesse, _which in state doth ride
+    On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine,
+    Rising and falling in a pompous traine_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Thus high, thus low, _as if her silver throat
+    Would reach the brazen voyce of War's hoarce bird_.
+
+        ... his hands sprightly as fire, he flings
+    And with _a quavering coynesse tasts the strings_.
+    The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted,
+    Singing their feares, are fearefully delighted,
+    _Trembling as when Appolo's golden haires
+    Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres
+    Of his own breath: which marryed to his lyre_
+    Doth tune the spheares.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+                                      with nectar drop,
+    _Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup_.
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _The lute's light genius now does proudly rise,
+    Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes,_
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    _Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone_.'
+
+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 MSS. 3910, pt. lxvi., from which we take
+a specimen:
+
+    'Now the declininge sunn 'gan downward bende
+    From higher heauene, and from his locks did sende
+    A milder flame; when neere to Tyber's flowe
+    A Lutaniste allayde his carefull woe,
+    With sondinge charmes, and in a greeny seate
+    Of shady oake, toke shelter from the heate.
+
+      A nitingale ore-hard hym that did use
+    To soiourne in y^e neighbour groues, the Muse
+    That files the place, the syren of the wood:
+    Poore harmeles Syren, steling neere she stood
+    Close lurkinge in the leaues attentiuely:
+    Recordinge that vnwonted mellodye,
+    She condt it to herselfe, and every straine
+    His fingers playde, her throat return'd againe.'
+
+And so to the end (MS. 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:
+
+    _Menaphon._ A sound of music touched mine ears, or rather,
+    Indeed, entranced my soul. As I stole nearer,
+    Invited by the melody, I saw
+    This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute,
+    With strains of strange variety and harmony,
+    Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challenge
+    To the clear choristers of the wood, the birds,
+    That as they flocked about him all stood silent,
+    Wondering at what they heard. I wondered too.
+
+    _Amethus._ And do so I: good, on.
+
+    _Men._                            A nightingale,
+    Nature's best-skilled musician, undertakes
+    The challenge, and for every several strain
+    The well-shaped youth could touch, she sung her own:
+    He could not run division with more art
+    Vpon his quaking instrument than she
+    The nightingale did with her various notes
+    Reply to: for a voice and for a sound,
+    Amethus, 'tis much easier to believe
+    That such they were, than hope to hear again.
+
+    _Ameth._ How did the rivals part?
+
+    _Men._                            You term them rightly.
+    For they were rivals, and their mistress, Harmony.
+    Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last
+    Into a pretty anger, that a bird,
+    Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes,
+    Should vie with him for mastery, whose study
+    Had busied many hours to perfect practice.
+    To end the controversy, in a rapture,
+    Vpon his instrument he plays so swiftly
+    So many voluntaries, and so quick,
+    That there was curiosity and cunning,
+    Concord in discord, lines of differing method
+    Meeting in one full centre of delight.
+
+    _Ameth._ Now for the bird.
+
+    _Men._                     The bird, ordained to be
+    Music's first master, strove to imitate
+    These several sounds; which when her warbling throat
+    Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute,
+    And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness,
+    To see the conqueror upon her hearse
+    To weep.[37]
+
+Comment is needless on such pale, empty literality, as compared with the
+vitality and _elan_ of Crashaw, in all but Ford's; while even Ford's is
+surpassed in every way by the 'Musick's Duell.'
+
+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. We prefer adducing
+Crashaw, and then giving a close rendering of the original: _e.g._
+
+    'He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,
+    _On which, as on a glorious stranger, gaz'd
+    The golden eyes of Night_.'      (st. xvii.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    '_He sees also shining from heaven,
+    With beauteous ray, the wondrous star_,
+    Which, brilliant and beautiful, goes
+    Pointing the way straight towards Bethlehem.'
+
+Again:
+
+    'He saw how in that blest Day-bearing Night,
+    The Heav'n-rebuked shades made hast away;
+    _How bright a dawne of angels with new light
+    Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day
+    Of which the Morning knew not_.'      (st. xv.)
+
+literally in Marino:
+
+    'He sees the quiet shades and the dark
+    Horrors of the happy, holy Night
+    Smitten and routed by heavenly voices,
+    And vanquished by angelic splendours.'
+
+Once more: when Alecto, the most terrible of the infernal sisters,
+ascends to Earth at the command of Satan:
+
+    'Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight:
+    The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more,
+    But shut their flowry lids for ever;'      (st. xlviii.)
+
+for
+
+    'Parvero i fiori intorno e la verdura
+    Sentir forza di peste, ira di verno;'
+
+literally:
+
+          'soon as Hell had vomited out
+    This monster from the dark abyss,
+    _The flowers all around and the verdure appeared
+    To feel the strength of the plague, the fury of winter_.'
+
+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, 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: _e.g._
+
+    '_And for the never-fading fields of light;_'      (st. xxvii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Che piu puo farmi omai chi la celeste
+    _Reggia mi tolse, e i regni i miei lucenti_?'
+
+literally:
+
+    'What more can He now do to me, Who took
+    _From me the heavenly palace and my bright realms_?'
+
+Again:
+
+    '_Bow our bright heads before a king of clay;_'      (st. xxviii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Volle alle forme sue semplici e prime,
+    Natura sovralzar corporea e bassa,
+    E de' membri del ciel capo sublime
+    Far di limo terrestre eterna massa;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'He turns to his simple primitive forms,
+    To raise Nature above the corporeal and low,
+    And to make an unworthy mass of earthly clay
+    The sublime head of the heavenly members.'
+
+Compare also st. x. in Crashaw with the original as literally rendered:
+
+    'Disdainefull wretch, how hath one bold sinne cost
+    Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes!
+    How hath _one black eclipse cancell'd and crost
+    The glories that did gild thee in thy rise!
+    Proud morning of a perverse day_, how lost
+    Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise
+      Narcissus! foolish Phaeton, who for all
+      Thy _high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall_.'
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'O wretched Angel, once fairer than light,
+    How thou hast lost thy primeval splendour!
+    Thou shalt have from the eternal Requiter
+    Deserved punishment for the unjust crime:
+    Proud admirer of thy honours,
+    Rebellious usurper of another's seat!
+    Transformed, and fallen into Phlegethon,
+    Proud Narcissus, impious Phaethon!'
+
+Milton takes from Crashaw, not Marino, in his portrait of the Destroyer:
+
+    'From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre
+    This mortall enemy to mankind's good
+    Lifts his _malignant eyes, wasted with care,
+    To become beautifull in humane blood_.'      (st. xi.)
+
+Literally in Marino:
+
+    'He from the shades of death to the living air,
+    Envious in truth of our human state,
+    Lifted aloft his eyes by where
+    The hollow vent-hole opened straight down.'
+
+Well-nigh innumerable single lines and words are inevitably marked:
+_e.g._
+
+                        'the rebellious eye
+    Of sorrow.'      (st. xlix.)
+
+So the eyes of Satan:
+
+            'the sullen dens of Death and Night
+    Startle the dull ayre with a dismal red;'      (st. vii.)
+
+for Marino's
+
+    'Negli occhi ove mestizia alberga e morte,
+    Luce fiammeggia torbida e vermiglia;'
+
+literally:
+
+    'In the eyes where sadness dwells and death
+    A turbid vermilion-coloured light shines.'
+
+Again: the sun is seen by the Tempter to
+
+    Make proud the ruby portalls of the East;'      (st. xvi.)
+
+for 'la Reggia Oriental.' Crashaw has the same vivid fancy in the Hymn
+for Epiphany:
+
+          'Aurora shall set ope
+    Her ruby casements.'
+
+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:
+
+    'Under the abysses, at the very core of the world,
+    In the central point of the universe,
+    Within the bowers of the darkest deep,
+    There stands the fiendly perverse Spirit:
+    With sharp thongs an impure group
+    Binds him with a hundred snakes athwart:
+    With such bonds girds him for ever,
+    The great champion who conquered HIM in Paradise.'
+
+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:
+
+          'no rapture makes it live
+    Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,
+    Whose feet can walke the Milky Way,
+    Her starry throne, and hold up an exalted arm
+    To lift me from my lazy urn and climbe
+    Upon the stooped shoulders of old Time,
+    And trace eternity.'      (vol. i. p. 238.)[38]
+
+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' (_ib._ pp.
+223-5). It is profoundly to be regretted that our Poet should have
+limited himself to Book I. of the 'Strage degli Innocenti,' viz.
+'Sospetto d'Herode.' Book VII. especially, 'Della Gerusalemme Distruta,'
+would have demanded all his powers. The entire poem was 'done in
+English,' and it is '_done_' (by T.R. 1675).
+
+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 _thought_ of Crashaw; and, unless I egregiously
+mistake, we have together earned some gratitude from admirers of our
+Worthy.
+
+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.
+
+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 the
+typical corrections that I felt obliged to make, and note other lapses
+which I did not feel justified in altering.
+
+    In XI. last line, {aperrhipton} for {aporrhipton}; CXXI. last line,
+    {een} for {ee}; CXXV. line 5. {kein'} for {kein}; CLXXX. line 1 has
+    {plane} as if the penult were long instead of short, and {alemi} an
+    unused form, so that the line offends both quantity and usage--it
+    might be amended thus, {Heis men ego, he mou te plane periegen,
+    alomai}; CLXXXII. line 1, {epeballen} for {epiballen}; CLXXXIII.
+    line 2, {sykomore} should be {sykomore}, but altered for scansion;
+    line 3, {ekkremnes} should perhaps be {ekkremnas}; line 4,
+    unscanable; and in CXXV. line 4, {dasiois} should be {dasesin}.
+    {ouranos}, the penult of which is short, he uses as either long or
+    short.
+
+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.
+
+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. RICHARD CRASHAW
+has assuredly not yet gathered all his fame.[39]
+
+  ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
+
+
+
+
+  Latin Poems.
+
+  PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+  (1634-1670.)
+
+
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The earliest appearance of CRASHAW 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:
+
+
+
+
+  EPIGRAM-
+
+  MATUM
+
+  SACRORUM
+
+  LIBER.
+
+
+  University Printer's ornament,
+  with legend, 'Hinc. Lvcem. Et.
+  Pocula. Sacra.' and 'Alma Mater.'
+
+
+  Cantabrigiae,
+  Ex Academiae celeberrimae
+  typographeo. 1634.
+
+    This is a small duodecimo. Collation: Title-page--Epistle-dedicatory
+    to LANY, with the poems, 'Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,'
+    &c.--Venerabili viro Magistro Tournay, Tutori suo summe
+    observando--Ornatissimo viro Praeceptori suo colendissimo, Magistro
+    Brook--Lectori (verse and prose), seven leaves: Epigrammata Sacra,
+    pp. 79.
+
+
+
+
+A second edition of this volume appeared in 1670. Its title-page is as
+follows:
+
+  RICHARDI CRASHAWI
+
+  POEMATA
+
+  et
+
+  EPIGRAMMATA,
+
+  Quae scripsit Latina & Graeca,
+  Dum _Aulae Pemb._ Alumnus fuit,
+  Et
+  Collegii _Petrensis_ Socius.
+
+
+  Editio Secunda, Auctior & emendatior.
+
+
+  {Heineken eumathies pinytophronos, hen ho Melichros
+  Eskesen, Mouson ammiga kai Chariton.}      {Anthol.}
+
+  [Printer's ornament, as before.]
+
+  Cantabrigiae,
+  Ex Officina _Joan. Hayes_, Celeberrimae Academiae
+  Typographi. 1670.
+
+This is an 8vo. Collation: Title-page--and to Brook, as before; then
+these additional Latin poems: In Picturam Reverendissimi Episcopi D.
+Andrews--Votiva Domus Petrensis pro Domo Dei--In caeterorum Operum
+difficili Parturitione Gemitus--Epitaphium in Gulielmum Herrisium--In
+Eundem--Natalis Principis Mariae--In Serenissimae Reginae partum
+hyemalem--Natalis Ducis Eboracensis--In faciem Augustiss. Regis a
+morbillis integram--Ad Carolum Primum, Rex Redux--Ad Principem nondum
+natum, Regina gravida. Bastard-title, 'Epigrammata Sacra, quae scripsit
+Graeca et Latina'--Lectori (as before), nine leaves: Epigrammata Sacra,
+pp. 67.
+
+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 Viduae, ib.--No. 53, Ecce locus ubi jacuit
+Dominus, ib.--No. 120, In descensum Spiritus 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 Dominicae, ib.--No. 178,
+Caecus implorat Christum, Latin and Greek--No. 179, Quis ex vobis, &c.
+ib.--No. 180, Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncati, ib.--No. 181, Caeci receptis,
+&c. ib.--and No. 182, Zaccheus in sycomoro.
+
+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 _Joann. Creed_.' Probably consisted of
+'remainders' of 1670 edition.
+
+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 THOMAS ASHE, M.A.,
+Ipswich; B., CLEMENT BARKSDALE (from 'Epigrammata Sacra selecta, cum
+Anglica Versione. Sacred Epigrams Englished. London: Printed for John
+Barksdale, Bookseller in Cirencester. 1682.' 12mo); CL., Rev. J.H.
+CLARK, M.A., West Dereham, Norfolk; CR., CRASHAW himself; G., myself;
+W., Rev. W. ARIS WILLMOTT (from his 'Lives of the Sacred Poets,' s.n.
+Crashaw); and R. WI., Rev. RICHARD WILTON, M.A., Londesborough Rectory,
+Market Weighton. In the present and succeeding division those 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.
+
+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 Graeca.' Similar lists will be found in the
+introductory notes to the several divisions of this volume.
+
+In the Epistle to Lany, line 18, avidi _for_ avide; line 29, amore _for_
+amare; in the Ode, st. ii. line 1, ipsi _for_ ipse. In the address
+'Lectori,' line 7, abi _for_ alis; line 29, putre _for_ putri; line 48,
+mens _for_ meus; line 53, fingit _for_ finget; line 70, graves _for_
+gravis; line 97, tota dropped out; line 120, negat _for_ neget; in
+succeeding prose, line 29, Acygmanos _for_ acygnianos.
+
+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.
+
+   No.
+
+    1, line 4, ille _for_ hic.
+
+    2, heading, Victorem _for_ vectorem.
+
+    3, l. 1, ori _for_ oris.
+
+    6, l. 2, meae _for_ mea.
+
+    7, l. 4, tanto _for_ tanti.
+
+    8, l. 1, vulnere _for_ vulnera.
+
+   10, l. 1, tumidus _for_ timidus.
+
+   12, heading, Luc. x. 30 _for_ x. 39; and so often.
+
+   19, l. 4, decas _for_ decus.
+
+   30, l. 3, Te ne _for_ Tene.
+
+   31, heading, credebunt _for_ credebant.
+
+   44, l. 1, tumere _for_ tenuere.
+
+   45, l. 2, mala _for_ male.
+
+   48, l. 1, Christe _for_ Christi.
+
+   60, l. 4, fecere _for_ fuere.
+
+   65, l. 7, adnixus _for_ ad nixus.
+
+   67, l. 1, Infantes _for_ infantis.
+
+   69, heading, meditur _for_ medetur.
+
+   78, l. 2, pati _for_ peti.
+
+  101, l. 4, aqua _for_ aquas.
+
+  108, l. 8, oculos _for_ oculus.
+
+  111, l. 3, natalis _for_ natales.
+
+  114, l. 2, utere _for_ uteri.
+
+  115, l. 4, queas _for_ queat.
+
+  120, heading, Domini _for_ Dominicam.
+
+   "   l. 6, Phoebe _for_ Phoebo.
+
+  122, heading, traduit _for_ traderet.
+
+  123, l. 2, nescis _for_ nescio.
+
+  125, l. 1, volueris _for_ volucris.
+
+  126, heading, Divi _for_ Divo.
+
+  132, heading, Christo _for_ Christi.
+
+  135, heading left out.
+
+  140, l. 2, illa _for_ ille.
+
+  149, l. 2, quae _for_ qua.
+
+  153, l. 3, colubres _for_ colubros.
+
+  155, heading, Domini _for_ Dominicae.
+
+  158, l. 3, par _for_ per.
+
+  161, l. 8, fieris _for_ fieres.
+
+   "   l. 12, solis _for_ solio.
+
+  164, l. 1, Daemone _for_ Daemona.
+
+  169, heading, lavante _for_ lavanti.
+
+   "   l. 2, virginea _for_ virgineae.
+
+  170, l. 5, decies _for_ denis.
+
+  172, l. 1, vidis _for_ vides.
+
+  176, l. 16, dominum _for_ dominam.
+
+   "   l. 73, ista _for_ iste.
+
+  177, l. 20, metu _for_ nutu.
+
+  182, l. 2, fide _for_ fida.
+
+The whole of these, with others belonging to Crashaw himself and his
+first editors, are carefully corrected in our edition. G.
+
+
+
+
+REVERENDO ADMODUM VIRO
+
+BENJAMINO LANY,[40]
+
+SS. THEOLOGIAE PROFESSORI, AULAE PEMBROCHIANAE CUSTODI DIGNISSIMO, EX
+SUORUM MINIMIS MINIMUS,
+
+R. C[RASHAW]
+
+CUSTODIAM COELESTEM
+
+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 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 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:
+
+    Salve, alme custos Pierii gregis,
+    Per quem erudito exhalat in otio;
+        Seu frigus udi captet antri,
+            Sive Jovem nitidosque soles.
+
+    Non ipse custos pulchrior invias
+    Egit sub umbras Aemonios greges;
+        Non ipse Apollo notus illis
+            Lege suae meliore cannae.
+
+    Tu, si sereno des oculo frui,
+    Sunt rura nobis, sunt juga, sunt aquae,
+        Sunt plectra dulcium sororum
+            (Non alio mihi nota Phoebo).
+
+    Te dante, castos composuit sinus;
+    Te dante, mores sumpsit; et in suo
+        Videnda vultu, pulveremque
+            Relligio cineremque nescit.
+
+    Stat cincta digna fronde decens caput:
+    Suosque per te fassa palam Deos,
+        Comisque, Diva, vestibusque
+            Ingenium dedit ordinemque.
+
+    Jamque ecce nobis amplior es modo
+    Majorque cerni. Quale jubar tremit
+        Sub os! verecundusque quanta
+            Mole sui Genius laborat!
+
+    Jam qui serenas it tibi per genas,
+    Majore coelo sidus habet suum;
+        Majorque circum cuspidatae
+            Ora comis tua flos diei.
+
+    Stat causa. Nempe hanc ipse Deus, Deus,
+    Hanc ara, per te pulchra, diem tibi
+        Tuam refundit, obvioque
+            It radio tibi se colenti.
+
+    Ecce, ecce! sacro in limine, dum pio
+    Multumque prono poplite amas humum,
+        Altaria annuunt ab alto;
+            Et refluis tibi plaudit alis
+
+    Pulchro incalescens officio, puer
+    Quicunque crispo sidere crinium,
+        Vultuque non fatente terram,
+            Currit ibi roseus satelles.
+
+    Et jure. Nam cum fana tot inviis
+    Moerent ruinis, ipsaque, ceu preces
+        Manusque non decora supplex
+            Tendat, opem rogat, heu negatam!
+
+    Tibi ipsa voti est ora sui rea.
+    Et solvet. O quam semper apud Deum
+        Litabis illum, cujus arae
+            Ipse preces prius audiisti!
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Prose G.; verse CL.]
+
+    _To the very reverend man_ BENJAMIN LANY, _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._[41]
+
+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 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
+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 sacred things that have been honoured amongst us, to fly towards you
+with a strain of such kind as this, whatever it may be:
+
+    Kind Guardian of the Muses' flock,
+      Through whom it breathes in learn'd repose,
+    Whether it choose the dripping rock,
+      Or where the open sunshine glows.
+
+    Not fairer he through trackless shade
+      Who led Aemonia's flocks of old;
+    Not even Apollo, when he play'd,
+      With defter touch could charm the fold.
+
+    If thou the eye serene dost grant,
+      Green fields are ours, and streams and hills,
+    And, since no Phoebus else we want,
+      The Muses with their dulcet quills.
+
+    Religion too with modest grace
+      Through thee assumes a gentler mien;
+    Through thee again can show her face,
+      No more in dust and ashes seen.
+
+    Her brows crown'd meetly, and, through thee,
+      Her God in sight of all confess'd,
+    She gives in her divinity
+      Meaning and law to garb and vest.
+
+    Lo, while we gaze, an ample state
+      Adorns thee; what a lustrous sheen
+    Plays on thy lips! with what a weight
+      Thy reverent Genius toils within!
+
+    For him on whom thy calm glance flows
+      His star sheds down a fuller ray;
+    The light that o'er thine aspect glows
+      Is brighter than the shafts of Day.
+
+    And there is cause. The Lord of heaven,
+      Whose altar thou hast made so fair,
+    Pours back the light that thou hast given,
+      With glory meets His worshipper.
+
+    Lo, on the threshold of thy God
+      While thou dost stoop on bended knee,
+    The altar from on high doth nod,
+      Its plausive wings are bent to thee.
+
+    And, glowing with his duty's worth,
+      Each starry-tressed chorister
+    With look that savours not of earth
+      Tends like a rosy cherub there.
+
+    And rightly. For, when ruin-wreck'd,
+      With prayers and outstretch'd hands the fane
+    Bemoan'd itself in all neglect,
+      And sought elsewhere for help in vain,--
+
+    To thee by its own vows 'tis bound,
+      And now repays thee. At the shrine
+    Whose cry so well thy ears hath found
+      Long, long may prayer and praise be thine!
+
+
+
+
+LECTORI.
+
+
+    Salve. Jamque vale. Quid enim quis pergeret ultra?
+      Qua jocus et lusus non vocat, ire voles?
+    Scilicet hic, Lector, cur noster habebere, non est;
+      Deliciis folio non faciente tuis.
+    Nam nec Acidalios halat mihi pagina rores;
+      Nostra Cupidineae nec favet aura faci.
+    Frustra hinc ille suis quicquam promiserit alis:
+      Frustra hinc illa novo speret abire sinu.
+    Ille e materna melius sibi talia myrto;
+      Illa jugis melius poscat ab Idaliis.
+    Quaerat ibi suus in quo cespite surgat Adonis,
+      Quae melior teneris patria sit violis.
+    Illinc totius Florae, verisque, suique
+      Consilio, ille alas impleat, illa sinus.
+    Me mea, casta tamen, si sit rudis, herba coronet:
+      Me mea, si rudis est, sit rudis, herba juvat.
+    Nulla meo Circaea tument tibi pocula versu:
+      Dulcia, et in furias officiosa tuas.
+    Nulla latet Lethe, quam fraus tibi florea libat,
+      Quam rosa sub falsis dat malefida genis.
+    Nulla verecundum mentitur mella venenum:
+      Captat ab insidiis linea nulla suis.
+    Et spleni, et jecori foliis bene parcitur istis.
+      Ah, male cum rebus staret utrumque meis!
+    Rara est quae ridet, nulla est quae pagina prurit,
+      Nulla salax, si quid norit habere salis.
+    Non nudae Veneres, nec, si jocus, udus habetur:
+      Non nimium Bacchus noster Apollo fuit.
+    Nil cui quis putri sit detorquendus ocello;
+      Est nihil obliquo quod velit ore legi.
+    Haec coram atque oculis legeret Lucretia justis;
+      Iret et illaesis hinc pudor ipse genis.
+    Nam neque candidior voti venit aura pudici
+      De matutina virgine thura ferens:
+    Cum vestis nive vincta sinus, nive tempora fulgens,
+      Dans nive flammeolis frigida jura comis,
+    Religiosa pedum sensim vestigia librans,
+      Ante aras tandem constitit, et tremuit.
+    Nec gravis ipsa suo sub numine castior halat
+      Quae pia non puras summovet ara manus.
+    Tam Venus in nostro non est nimis aurea versu:
+      Tam non sunt pueri tela timenda dei.
+    Saepe puer dubias circum me moverat alas,
+      Jecit et incertas nostra sub ora faces;
+    Saepe vel ipse sua calamum mihi blandus ab ala,
+      Vel matris cygno de meliore dedit;
+    Saepe Dionaeae pactus mihi serta coronae;
+      Saepe: Meus vates tu, mihi dixit, eris.
+    I procul, i cum matre tua, puer improbe, dixi:
+      Non tibi cum numeris res erit ulla meis.
+    Tu Veronensi cum passere pulchrior ibis:
+      Bilbilicisve queas comptius esse modis.
+    Ille tuos finget quocunque sub agmine crines:
+      Undique nequitiis par erit ille tuis.
+    Ille nimis, dixi, patet in tua proelia campus:
+      Heu, nimis est vates et nimis ille tuus!
+    Gleba illa, ah, tua quam tamen urit adultera messis!
+      Esset Idumaeo germine quanta parens!
+    Quantus ibi et quantae premeret puer ubera matris!
+      Nec coelos vultu dissimulante suos.
+    Ejus in isto oculi satis essent sidera versu;
+      Sidereo matris quam bene tuta sinu!
+    Matris ut hic similes in collum mitteret ulnas,
+      Inque sinus niveos pergeret, ore pari;
+    Utque genis pueri haec aequis daret oscula labris,
+      Et bene cognatis iret in ora rosis;
+    Quae Mariae tam larga meat, quam disceret illic
+      Uvida sub pretio gemma tumere suo!
+    Staret ibi ante suum lacrymatrix Diva Magistrum:
+      Seu levis aura volet, seu gravis unda cadat;
+    Luminis haec soboles, et proles pyxidis illa,
+      Pulchrius unda cadat, suavius aura volet.
+    Quicquid in his sordet demum, luceret in illis.
+      Improbe, nec satis est hunc tamen esse tuum?
+    Improbe, cede, puer: quid enim mea carmina mulces?
+      Carmina de jaculis muta futura tuis.
+    Cede, puer, qua te petulantis fraena puellae;
+      Turpia quae revocant pensa procacis herae;
+    Qua miseri male pulchra nitent mendacia limi;
+      Qua cerussatae, furta decora, genae;
+    Qua mirere rosas, alieni sidera veris;
+      Quas nivis haud propriae bruma redempta domat.
+    Cede, puer, dixi et dico; cede, improba mater:
+      Altera Cypris habet nos; habet alter Amor.
+    Scilicet hic Amor est; hic est quoque mater Amoris.
+      Sed Mater virgo; sed neque caecus Amor.
+    O Puer! o Domine! o magnae reverentia Matris,
+      Alme tui stupor et relligio gremii!
+    O Amor, innocuae cui sunt pia jura pharetrae,
+      Nec nisi de casto corde sagitta calens!
+    Me, Puer, o certa, quem figis, fige sagitta;
+      O tua de me sit facta pharetra levis!
+    Quodque illinc sitit et bibit, et bibit et sitit usque;
+      Usque meum sitiat pectus, et usque bibat.
+    Fige, Puer, corda haec. Seu spinis exiguus quis,
+      Seu clavi aut hastae cuspide magnus ades;
+    Seu major cruce cum tota; seu maximus ipso
+      Te corda haec figis denique; fige, Puer.
+    O metam hanc tuus aeternum inclamaverit arcus:
+      Stridat in hanc teli densior aura tui.
+    O tibi si jaculum ferat ala ferocior ullum,
+      Hanc habeat triti vulneris ire viam.
+    Quique tuae populus cunque est, quae turba, pharetrae;
+      Hic bene vulnificas nidus habebit aves.
+    O mihi sis bello semper tam saevus in isto!
+      Pectus in hoc nunquam mitior hostis eas.
+    Quippe ego quam jaceam pugna bene sparsus in illa!
+      Quam bene sic lacero pectore sanus ero!
+    Haec mea vota. Mei sunt haec quoque vota libelli.
+      Haec tua sint, Lector, si meus esse voles.
+    Si meus esse voles, meus ut sis, lumina, Lector,
+      Casta, sed o nimium non tibi sicca, precor.
+    Nam tibi fac madidis meus ille occurrerit alis,
+      Sanguine, seu lacryma diffluat ille sua:
+    Stipite totus hians, clavisque reclusus, et hasta:
+      Fons tuus in fluvios desidiosus erit?
+    Si tibi sanguineo meus hic tener iverit amne,
+      Tune tuas illi, dure, negabis aquas?
+    Ah durus! quicunque meos, nisi siccus, amores
+      Nolit, et hic lacrymae rem neget esse suae.
+    Saepe hic Magdalinas vel aquas vel amaverit undas;
+      Credo nec Assyrias mens tua malit opes.
+    Scilicet ille tuos ignis recalescet ad ignes;
+      Forsan et illa tuis unda natabit aquis.
+    Hic eris ad cunas, et odoros funere manes:
+      Hinc ignes nasci testis, et inde meos.
+    Hic mecum, et cum matre sua, mea gaudia quaeres:
+      Maturus Procerum seu stupor esse velit;
+    Sive per antra sui lateat, tunc templa, sepulchri:
+      Tertia lux reducem, lenta sed illa, dabit.
+    Sint fidae precor, ah, dices, facilesque tenebrae;
+      Lux mea dum noctis, res nova! poscit opem.
+    Denique charta meo quicquid mea dicat amori,
+      Illi quo metuat cunque, fleatve, modo,
+    Laeta parum, dices, haec, sed neque dulcia non sunt:
+      Certe et amor, dices, hujus amandus erat.
+
+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 o 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 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.
+
+
+[TRANSLATION. Verse and Prose, G.]
+
+TO THE READER.
+
+    'Greeting,' Reader; and now 'farewell'!
+    Wherefore shouldst thou on my page dwell,
+    Where neither jest nor sport inviteth,
+    That the jocund youth delighteth?
+    Therefore, Reader, pass thee by
+    To thine own idle jollity:
+    The notes that trill from my poor lute
+    Such as thee shall never suit;
+    Nor here are Acidalian dews
+    That Venus' roses sweet suffuse;
+    Nor breath sets Cupid's torch a-blaze
+    That lovers on my lines may gaze.
+    Vainly shall mother and shall son
+    Look here for lewd emotion.
+    Cupid, seek thy mother's kirtle,
+    Or hide thee 'neath her fragrant myrtle.
+    And, Venus, thy Idalian hills
+    Will better yield thee sport that thrills:
+    Thither, therefore, goddess, turn;
+    O'er thy lost Adonis burn;
+    Or devise, if grief thee frets,
+    Other shrines for thy violets:
+    There, with Flora and the Spring
+    The green earth enamelling,
+    Thou mayst fill thy bosom's whiteness,
+    He his wings in all their brightness,
+    With all flow'rs that wait on thee
+    When thou holdest revelry.
+    Me my own poor flow'r will crown;
+    Poor 'tis true, yet all my own--
+    Poor but pure. So let it be,
+    Those unto others, this to me.
+    No Circe-cup foams in my verse,
+    To make fierce lustings still more fierce;
+    No draft of Lethe here doth flow,
+    Flow'ry above, deathly below;
+    No false cheeks, with falser bloom--
+    A rose up-bursting from a tomb;
+    No barb hid 'neath treach'rous plume;
+    No poison spread as honey'd bait;
+    No line where danger lies in wait:
+    Here's nor spleen nor melancholy,
+    That for me were unmeet wholly;
+    Rarely do I raise a smile,
+    Ne'er merge my wit in wanton wile;
+    Never quicken Passion's pulse,
+    Nor show nude Beauty to convulse,
+    Until beneath the hoof o' th' flesh
+    The strong man bound is in Lust's mesh.
+    If jest I pass, do not repine
+    To learn it reeks not of the wine;
+    For my Apollo is celestial,
+    And from Bacchus shrinks as bestial.
+    Nothing that's foul my page contains;
+    Nothing the modest eye arraigns;
+    Nothing to cause averted face--
+    Lucretia every line might trace
+    With calm, serene, unfearing eye,
+    Nor blush stain cheek of Modesty.
+    For not more pure the maiden's vow[42]
+    Whisper'd in tremulous words and low,
+    As, girt in snowy robe, her breast
+    Heaves like a wave in sweet unrest,
+    And the white veil shows whiter brow
+    In pureness of unfallen snow,
+    With flame-gleam from meek-dropped hair
+    Dishevell'd by the am'rous air:
+    Soft strains with her soft voice blending,
+    The marriage-rites to heaven ascending:
+    Yea, not the altar's self exhaleth
+    More chastely, as its God it haileth,
+    That keeps far off unholy hands
+    While there the priest with bow'd head stands.
+    My verse is not the Queen of Love's,
+    Nor knows the cooing of her doves:
+    Her beauty me not overpowers,
+    Though bright as skies when no cloud low'rs;
+    Vainly at me her tricksy boy
+    His arrows shoots. The sweet annoy
+    I never felt; though oft and oft
+    He hover'd o'er me, and with soft,
+    Sly, 'luring glances his torch wav'd,
+    And look'd to find me swift enslav'd;
+    Offer'd a quill from his own wing,
+    E'en from his mother's swan--to sing;
+    Ay, often Venus' love-wreaths weaving,
+    On my brow the symbol leaving:
+    He would laugh, and Poet style me,
+    And with flatteries beguile me:
+    'Begone, begone, O wanton boy!
+    Thy mother too, though Queen of Joy.'
+    Thus did I speak. Naught of my song
+    Shall thy tyranny prolong:
+    Get thee, with thy torch and arrow,
+    Unto the Veronian sparrow;                    _Catullus_
+    Or the Bilbilician win                         _Martial_
+    To embalm thy pleasant sin:
+    Be thy assaults however vile,
+    He on thee will smile, and smile:
+    He, thy love-locks curious twining,
+    Shall ne'er come short of thy inclining:
+    He thine own poet is, and will
+    Give thee full license to instill
+    By jest and quip and jollity
+    Whate'er it listeth thee to try.
+    Alas, that genius so august
+    Should pander to adult'rous lust!
+    Alas, that he, poet so true,
+    Should poet be, Cupid, to you!
+    O, what harvest of rich thought
+    Judean seed from him had brought,
+    If, up-climbing holy mountains,
+    He had drunk from hallow'd fountains!
+    Mother and son, I see them now,
+    As round her neck his arms he'd throw,
+    Nestling with his azure eyes,
+    Her bosom's splendour for his skies;
+    Kissing, and kiss'd in sweet reply,
+    As soft winds o'er violets die:
+    While she all her love discloses,
+    Murm'ring on his lips' twin roses:
+    His lips like hers, and hers like his,
+    Glued i' the rapture of their bliss.
+    Visions like these would Martial give
+    With dainty touch and fugitive.
+    The heav'nly Weeper there would bow
+    Before her Lord, and pay her vow:
+    Now is uttered gentle sigh,
+    And now great tears gleam in her eye:
+    That, offspring of the stainless Light;
+    This, of the Pyx's mystic rite:
+    In his verse, tears, sighs should fall
+    Delicate and musical:
+    In fine, whate'er in mine were mean
+    Should radiant grow as sunlight's sheen.
+    Go, then, go, insatiate boy,
+    Nor me longer seek t' annoy:
+    I've said it, nor shall e'er unsay:
+    Go to thy mother, and there play.
+    Why wilt thou whisper flattery,
+    And praise my Muse's witchery--
+    Verses that reck not of thy smarts--
+    And smite me with thy fire-tipp'd darts?
+    Go, get thee gone! Thy haunt must be
+    Where there's wanton revelry,
+    And the young minx with toss o' curls
+    Opes her lips to show her pearls;
+    Opes her lips, with some gross jest
+    A foolish lover to arrest.
+    Thither go, where falsely-fair
+    Beauty is bought and sold; and where,
+    Flaunting with painted cheek, and eye
+    A-flame to ev'ry devilry,
+    Base women seek base men, and tingle
+    Their hot veins as they commingle,
+    Baring their charms, 'neath alien roses
+    Ministering such sweets as Hell composes.
+    Hence, therefore, Cupid! Venus, hence!
+    I yield not to your violence:
+    I've said it, nor shall you allure
+    My heart to own your sway impure.
+    Another Cypris holds me now,
+    Another Love receives my vow:
+    For Love is here and Mother kind,
+    But she a Virgin; He not blind.
+    O Child! O Lord! great Mother blest!
+    O wonder of thy holy breast!
+    O Love, whose quiver's sacred pow'rs
+    Ne'er send forth arrow that devours,
+    Unless a shaft pierce the pure heart,
+    That Thou mayst heal the blessed smart.
+    Me whom Thou piercest, holy Child,
+    Pierce, pierce me sure with arrows mild.
+    Let Thy quiver grow more light
+    As Thou dost me yearning smite:
+    What my soul pants for, and still drinks
+    And drinks, and thirsts, and never thinks
+    To get enough, O give, still give.
+    Thus would I die; thus would I live.
+    Transfix this heart, Child: howsoe'er
+    Thou comest,--crown'd with thorns and bare,
+    Or great with the awful heraldry
+    Of nail and spear for Faith to see;
+    Or greater still, on the holy rood
+    Wet with the terror of Thy Blood;
+    Or great'st of all, Thyself alone
+    In meek might of Thy Passion,--
+    Still pierce this heart; O pierce it, Child:
+    _Thus_ would I drink in rapture wild.
+    O that Thy bow might wound me still!
+    O that of wounds I had my fill!
+    Or, if some swifter wing there be,
+    That it would fly to me--to me!
+    Behold, my Saviour, this poor breast,
+    And take it as Thine arrows' nest:
+    I seek not to be spar'd one blow:
+    Thus would I have Thee still my foe;
+    Still yearn that wounded I may be;
+    For wounds like these are ecstasy.
+    These are my wishes: and my Books,
+    May they be his who on them looks!
+    Seek'st, Reader, to be mine? Then, last,
+    I ask thy eyes that they be chaste;
+    Chaste, but not tearless; my dear Love
+    To meet and know, as from above
+    He comes, and still the Crucified,
+    Proclaiming how for man He died
+    By thorn, and nail, and spear, and cry,
+    And bitterest words of agony:
+    Say, should He meet thee thus in blood,
+    Couldst thou e'en grudge of tears a flood?
+    Ah, hard thy heart as e'er was stone,
+    That all unmov'd can hear Him groan,
+    Nor by a throb of feeling show
+    Thou hast a sense of His great woe;
+    While here He treasured human tears
+    Hushing sad Mary in her fears,
+    As to His feet in shame she crept,
+    And with white drops them all bewept:
+    More than Assyrian gold to thee
+    Such tears, if thou their worth couldst see.
+    His love with thine again will glow,
+    His tears afresh with thine will flow.
+    Here, Reader, glancing through my Book,
+    Thou shalt upon His cradle look:
+    To His sweet obsequies now turn,
+    And mark how still my love shall burn.
+    Here, with His Mother and with me,
+    My ceaseless sacred joys shalt see:
+    Whether Earth's Princes speechless stand
+    As sudden darkness wraps the land;
+    Or He lies hidden in the Cave,
+    A temple now, and not a grave;
+    But the third morning shall restore Him:
+    Ah, much too slow those days pass o'er Him!
+    Be true, ye shadows of the tomb;
+    Enfold Him in a kindly gloom:
+    Thus wilt thou pray; while my dear Light
+    (O strange!) demands the help of Night.
+    In fine, whate'er my Book shall say
+    To my dear Love--however pray,
+    However fear, however weep,
+    And with sweet tears its pages steep--
+    My words thy willing words will move.
+    'O, not enough these things I love;
+    But they are sweet all things above;
+    And certainly the love of Him
+    Deserves all other loves to dim.'
+
+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 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, 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!
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Pharisaeus et Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 14-19.
+
+    En duo templum adeunt, diversis mentibus ambo.
+      Ille procul trepido lumine signat humum:
+    It gravis hic, et in alta ferox penetralia tendit.
+      Plus habet hic templi; plus habet ille Dei.
+
+    {Andres, idou, heteroisi noois, dyo hiron eselthon.
+      Telothen orrhodei keinos ho phrikaleos;
+    All' ho men hos sobaros neou mychon engys hikanei;
+      Pleion ho men neou, pleion ho d' eiche Theou.}
+
+_Two went up into the Temple to pray._
+
+    Two went to pray! O, rather say,
+    One went to brag, th' other to pray.
+    One stands up close, and treads on high,
+    Where th' other dares not send his eye.
+    One neerer to God's altar trod;
+    The other to the altar's God.                        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Two men unto the Temple went to pray.
+    That, with a downcast look, stood far away;
+    This, near the altar, himself highly bore:
+    This of the Temple, that of God hath more.            B.
+
+
+II.
+
+_In asinum Christi vectorem._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille[43] suum didicit quondam objurgare magistrum:
+      Et quid ni discas tu celebrare tuum?
+    Mirum non minus est, te jam potuisse tacere,
+      Illum quam fuerat tum potuisse loqui.
+
+_Upon the asse that bore our Saviour._
+
+    Hath only Anger an omnipotence
+                        In eloquence?
+    Within the lips of Love and Joy doth dwell
+                        No miracle?
+    Why else had Balaam's asse a tongue to chide
+                        His master's pride,
+    And thou, heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne're a word
+                        To praise thy Lord?
+    That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder
+                        Was a great wonder;
+    But O, methinkes, 'tis a farre greater one
+                        That thou find'st none.          CR.
+
+MORE CLOSELY.
+
+    The ass of old had power to chide its wilful lord;
+    And hast not thou the power to speak one praiseful word?
+    Not less a marvel, sure, this silence is in thee
+    Than that the ass of old to speak had liberty.        G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_Dominus apud suos vilis._ Luc. iv. 28-29.
+
+    En consanguinei! patriis en exul in oris
+      Christus! et haud alibi tam peregrinus erat.
+    Qui socio demum pendebat sanguine latro,
+      O consanguineus quam fuit ille magis!
+
+_The Lord 'despised and rejected' by His own people._
+
+    See, O my kinsmen, what strange thing is this!
+    Christ in's own country a great stranger is.
+    The thief which bled upon the Cross with Thee
+    Was more ally'd in consanguinity.[44]                 B.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_Ad Bethesdae piscinam positus._ Joan. v. 1-16.
+
+    Quis novus hic refugis incumbit Tantalus undis,
+      Quem fallit toties tam fugitiva salus?
+    Unde hoc naufragium felix medicaeque procellae,
+      Vitaque tempestas quam pretiosa dedit?
+
+_The cripple at the Pool of Bethesda._
+
+    What Tantalus is this, who health still craves
+    So oft, yet vainly, from the refluent waves?
+    And whence this happy wreck, this healing strife,
+    This storm that drifts its victim into life?         CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What new Tantalus is here,
+      Couch'd by this swift-ebbing wave,
+    Whom the healing flood comes near,
+      Then retiring fails to save?
+
+    O, what happy shipwreck this,
+      And a cure by conflict wrought!
+    Strange that woe should thus win bliss,
+      From disaster life be brought!                      G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Christus ad Thomam._ Joan. xx. 26-29.
+
+    Saeva fides, voluisse meos tractare dolores!
+      Crudeles digiti, sic didicisse Deum!
+    Vulnera ne dubites, vis tangere nostra: sed, eheu,
+      Vulnera, dum dubitas, tu graviora facis.
+
+_Christ to Thomas._
+
+    Harsh faith, and wouldst thou probe these signs of woe?
+    O cruel fingers, would ye prove God so?
+    Touch them, lest thou shouldst doubt? Then have thy will;
+    But, ah, thy doubting makes them deeper still.       CL.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O cruel faith, afresh my pangs to move!
+    O ruthless fingers, thus their Lord to prove!
+    See, touch the wounds; doubt not; but with such doubt
+    Thou makest all those wounds afresh gush out.         A.
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Quisquis perdiderit animam suam mea causa inveniet eam._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    I, vita, i, perdam: mihi mors tua, Christe, reperta est:
+      Mors tua vita mea est; mors tibi vita mea.
+    Aut ego te abscondam Christi, mea vita, sepulchro:
+      Non adeo procul est tertius ille dies.
+
+_Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it._
+
+    Away, my life! Lord Christ, I have Thy death:
+    My life's Thy death, and Thy death gives me breath.
+    But come, my life, I'll hide thee in His tomb:
+    The third day hence is not so long to come.           A.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Primo mane venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena._ Joan. xx. 1.
+
+    Tu matutinos praevertis, sancta, rubores,
+      Magdala; sed jam tum Sol tuus ortus erat.[45]
+    Jamque vetus merito vanos sol non agit ortus,
+      Et tanti radios non putat esse suos.
+    Quippe aliquo, reor, ille novus jam nictat in astro,
+      Et se nocturna parvus habet facula.
+    Quam velit o tantae vel nuntius esse diei,
+      Atque novus Soli Lucifer ire novo!
+
+
+_[Mary] Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, cometh unto the
+sepulchre._
+
+    Thou holy Magdalene,
+          Ere rosy morn was seen,
+              Awokest; but e'en then
+                Thy Sun was in thy ken.
+
+    Now the great olden sun,
+          Rising as wont upon
+              The earth, is wildered
+                With new beams round him shed.
+
+    Lo, as a star he seems,
+          Or torch with nigh-quench'd beams;
+              Keeping himself still small
+                Before the Lord of All.
+
+    How well might'st thou, O Sun,
+          Submit to be outshone,
+              And, as a morning-star,
+                Herald One grander far!                  G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Quinque panes ad quinque hominum millia._ Joan. vi. 9.
+
+    En mensae faciles, redivivaque vulnera coenae,
+      Quaeque indefessa provocat ora dape!
+    Aucta Ceres stupet arcana se crescere messe.
+      Denique quid restat? Pascitur ipse cibus.
+
+_On the miracle of multiplyed loaves._
+
+    See here an easie feast that knows no wound,
+      That under Hunger's teeth will needs be found;
+    A subtle harvest of unbounded bread:
+      What would ye more? Here Food itselfe is fed.      CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Eas'ly-furnish'd table!
+                  And feast increas'd by eating:
+                    Still the mouth entreating.
+
+    The bread itself, unable
+                  To tell whence it flows,
+                    Finds it most surely grows.
+
+    Finds itself guest--no fable!
+                  Whence is the mystic dower?
+                    From Him Who is all power.            G.
+
+
+IX.
+
+_Aethiops lotus._ Act. viii. 38.
+
+    Ille niger sacris exit, quam lautus! ab undis:
+        Nec frustra Aethiopem nempe lavare fuit.
+    Mentem quam niveam piceae cutis umbra fovebit?
+        Tam volet et nigros sancta Columba lares.
+
+_On the baptized Ethiopian._
+
+    Let it no longer be a forlorne hope
+                    To wash an Ethiope:
+    He's washt; his gloomy skin a peacefull shade
+                    For his white soule is made:
+    And now, I doubt not, the Eternall Dove
+                    A black-fac'd house will love.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    How fair this Ethiop comes from th' holy fount!
+    To wash a Black we may not vain account.
+    How bright a soul is in a cloudy skin!
+    The Dove now loves a black house to dwell in.         B.
+
+
+X.
+
+_Publicanus procul stans percutiebat pectus suum._ Luc. xviii. 13.
+
+    Ecce hic peccator timidus petit advena templum:
+      Quodque audet solum, pectora moesta ferit.
+    Fide miser; pulsaque fores has fortiter: illo
+      Invenies templo tu propiore Deum.
+
+_The publican standing afar off smote on his breast._
+
+    Lo, a sinner, timid stranger,
+        Stranger to the Lord our God,
+    Seeks, in consciousness of danger,
+        Where to leave sin's awful load.
+    He to the Temple now is come,
+        Bow'd in dread beside the door;
+    His pallid lips, behold, are dumb;
+        He smites his bosom, dares no more.
+    Ah, distress'd one, smite thee there
+        In _that_ temple, God is near.                  G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_[In] obolum viduae._ Marc. xii. 44.
+
+    Gutta brevis nummi, vitae patrona senilis,
+      E digitis stillat non dubitantis anus;
+    Istis multa vagi spumant de gurgite census:
+      Isti abjecerunt scilicet; illa dedit.
+
+    {Kermatioio bracheia rhanis, biotoio t' aphaures
+      Herkos, apostazei cheiros apo tromeras.
+    Tois de anaskirta polys aphros anaideos olbou.
+      hoi men aperrhipton; keina dedoke monon.}
+
+_The widow's mites._
+
+    Two mites, two drops--yet all her house and land--
+    Falle from a steady heart though trembling hand:
+    The others' wanton wealth foams high and brave.
+    The other cast away; she only gave.                  CR.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Maria vero assidens ad pedes ejus audiebat eum._ Luc. x. 39.
+
+    Aspice, namque novum est, ut ab hospite pendeat hospes!
+      Hinc ori parat, hoc sumit ab ore cibos.
+    Tune epulis adeo es, soror, officiosa juvandis,
+      Et sinis has, inquit, Martha, perire dapes?
+
+_Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard His word._
+
+    Behold, a new thing here--host hanging on her Guest!
+      Preparing for His mouth, His mouth's words are her feast!
+    O Martha sister, spare thy labour and thy cost:
+      Tending the food that perisheth, diviner food is lost. G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+_In Spiritus Sancti descensum._ Act. ii.
+
+    Ferte sinus, o, ferte: cadit vindemia coeli,
+      Sanctaque ab aethereis volvitur uva jugis.
+    Felices nimium, queis tam bona musta bibuntur;
+      In quorum gremium lucida pergit hiems!
+    En caput, en ut nectareo micat et micat astro;
+      Gaudet et in roseis viva corona comis.
+    Illis, o Superi, quis sic neget ebrius esse?
+      Illis, ne titubent, dant sua vina faces.
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Bear, O bosoms, bear ye what Heaven's vintage showers,
+    Sacred clusters pouring from ethereal bowers.
+    Too happy, surely, ye who drink of wine so good;
+    It comes into your bosoms a sparkling, cooling flood.
+    Behold, with nectar'd star each head is shining, shining;
+    Around your purpl'd locks a crown of life entwining.
+    O Spirit of all flesh, to drink who'd be denied,
+    Since Thou, lest they should falter, mak'st wine a torch to guide? G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Congestis omnibus peregre profectus est._ Luc. xv. 13.
+
+    Dic mihi, quo tantos properas, puer auree, nummos?
+        Quorsum festinae conglomerantur opes?
+    Cur tibi tota vagos ructans patrimonia census?
+        Non poterunt siliquae nempe minoris emi?
+
+
+ON THE PRODIGALL.
+
+_The younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far
+country._
+
+    Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
+    Whither away so frolick? why so glad?
+    What all thy wealth in counsile? all thy state?
+    Are husks so deare? troth, 'tis a mighty rate.       CR.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_Non solum vinciri, sed et mori paratus sum._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Non modo vinc'la, sed et mortem tibi, Christe, subibo,
+      Paulus ait, docti callidus arte doli.
+    Diceret hoc aliter: Tibi non modo velle ligari,
+      Christe, sed et solvi[46] nempe paratus ero.
+
+_I am ready not to be bound only, but to dye._
+
+    Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my eares,
+    At those hard words man's cowardize calls feares.
+    Save those of feare, no other bands feare I;
+    Nor other death than this--the feare to die.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Not bonds for Thee, Lord, but death too I'll brave,
+    Says Paul, adept in double-meanings grave.
+    The words meant more: his wish was to be bound
+    For Christ; but loosed too, and with Him found.       G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Herodem_ {skolekobroton}. Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Ille Deus, Deus! haec populi vox unica: tantum,
+      Vile genus, vermes credere velle negant.
+    At cito se miseri, cito nunc errasse fatentur;
+      Carnes degustant, ambrosiamque putant.
+
+_On Herod worshipped as a god, eaten of worms._
+
+    A god! a god! one-mouth'd the people cry;
+    Only the worms, vile tribe, his claim deny.
+    Yet they, too, soon confess themselves astray,
+    For in his flesh they find ambrosia.                 CL.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Videns ventum magnum timuit, et cum coepisset demergi, clamavit, &c._
+Matt. xiv.
+
+    Petre, cades, o, si dubitas: o, fide: nec ipsum,
+      Petre, negat fidis aequor habere fidem.
+    Pondere pressa suo subsidunt caetera: solum,
+      Petre, tuae mergit te levitatis onus.[47]
+
+_When he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid; and beginning to sink,
+he cried, &c._
+
+    Peter! doubt, and thou sinkest! O, believe;
+      The sea will not thy faith, Peter, deceive.
+    Things by their weight subside into the wave;
+      Thy lightness, Peter, threats a wat'ry grave.       G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Obtulit eis pecunias._ Act. viii. 18.
+
+    Quorsum hos hic nummos profers? quorsum, impie Simon?
+        Non ille hic Judas, sed tibi Petrus adest.
+    Vis emisse Deum? potius, precor, hoc age, Simon,
+        Si potes, ipse prius daemona vende tuum.
+
+_He offered them money._
+
+    Money! what wouldst thou, impious? Look and see,
+    'Tis Peter, not Iscariot, speaks to thee.
+    Wouldst thou buy God? Nay, Simon, change thy tone,
+    And try to sell that demon of thine own. CL.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_Umbra S. Petri medetur aegrotis._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Conveniunt alacres, sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras,
+      Atque umbras fieri, creditis? umbra vetat.
+    O Petri umbra potens, quae non miracula praestat?
+      Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus.
+
+_The shadow of St. Peter heals the sick._
+
+    Beneath that shadow they delight to crowd;
+    To turn to shades by that shade not allow'd.
+    From Peter's shadow what may we not hope,
+    Now all thy glory it sustains, O Pope!                G.
+
+
+XX.
+
+_Tetigit linguam ejus, &c. ... et loquebatur ... et praecepit illis ne
+cui dicerent: illi vero eo magis praedicabant._ Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Christe, jubes muta ora loqui; muta ora loquuntur:
+        Sana tacere jubes ora; nec illa tacent.
+    Si digito tunc usus eras, muta ora resolvens;
+        Nonne opus est tota nunc tibi, Christe, manu?
+
+_The dumbe healed, and the people enjoyned silence._
+
+    Christ bids the dumbe tongue speake; it speakes: the sound
+    Hee charges to be quiet; it runs round.
+    If in the first He us'd His finger's touch,
+    His hand's whole strength here could not be too much. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,
+                  Straightway words flow:
+    Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they
+                  Thee disobey.
+    If, then, a single finger Thou didst use
+                  Mute tongues to loose,
+    Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young
+                  Have ceaseless tongue.                  G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit._ Luc. x. 32.
+
+    Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?
+      O dolor! o nostris vulnera vulneribus!
+    Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!
+      Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.
+
+_And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and passed by._
+
+    Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
+    Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?
+    The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,
+    Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?
+        Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.
+    O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:
+        They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more.      G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Canst look, and by with look so tranquil pass,
+    Nor heed my wounds? O, wounds on wounds, alas!
+    O peace, too grim! on it set little store:
+    Who looks unmov'd on misery makes it more.            A.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii.
+
+    Dum linquunt Christum, ah morbus! sanantur euntes:
+      Ipse etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+    At sani Christum, mens ah male-sana! relinquunt:
+      Ipsa etiam morbus sic medicina fuit.
+
+_The ungrateful lepers._
+
+    Whilst leaving Christ--ah, fell disease!--
+                They're healed as they go:
+    Their malady their medicine is,
+                Because He will'd it so.
+    But healed now--ah, mind diseas'd!--
+                They from the Lord depart:
+    Their healing their disease is now,
+                Bred in an ingrate heart.                 G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+_Ne soliciti estote tu crastinum._ Matt. vi. 34.
+
+    I, miser, inque tuas rape non tua tempora curas:
+      Et nondum natis perge perire malis.
+    Mi querulis satis una dies, satis angitur horis:
+      Una dies lacrymis mi satis uda suis.
+    Non mihi venturos vacat expectare dolores:
+      Nolo ego, nolo hodie crastinus esse miser.
+
+_Be ye not fretted about to-morrow._
+
+    Go, wretched mortal, antedate the day,
+                Fill thee with care;
+    Work thyself mis'ries, in a perverse way,
+                Before they're there.
+    Enough for me the day's cares in the day,
+                The passing hour;
+    Enough the tears that daily, yea or nay,
+                In sorrow low'r.
+    I have no leisure thus to antedate
+                The coming woe,
+    Nor to-day darken with to-morrow's fate;
+                And so I go.                              G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Wretch, to thy woes add not
+                to-morrow morn;
+    And haste not thou to
+                groan with ills unborn.
+    Each day's laments, each
+                hour's griefs, me suffice;
+    Each morn, noon, eve, with
+                rueful weeping eyes.
+    No leisure is to look for
+                griefs to be:
+    Stir not to-day to-morrow's
+                pains in me.                              A.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_A telonio Matthaeus._ Matt. ix. 9.
+
+    Ah satis, ah nimis est: noli ultra ferre magistrum,
+      Et lucro domino turpia colla dare.
+    Jam fuge; jam, Matthaee, feri fuge regna tyranni:
+      Inque bonam, felix i fugitive,[48] crucem.
+
+_Matthew called from the receipt of custom._
+
+    Enough, too much; no more a master's yoke
+    Endure, nor bow to lordly Lucre's stroke:
+    His service from thy slavish neck is broke.
+
+    Flee, Matthew, flee the cruel tyrant's sway,
+    And hie thee, like a happy runaway,
+    To the sweet cross that waits for thee to-day.    R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_Viduae filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    En redeunt, lacrymasque breves nova gaudia pensant;
+      Bisque illa est, uno in pignore, facta parens.
+    Felix quae magis es nati per funera mater:
+      Amisisse, iterum cui peperisse fuit.
+
+_The dead son re-delivered to his mother._
+
+    Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd,
+      Brief sorrow is exil'd,
+    And the lorn widow is a mother made
+      Twice in her only child.
+
+    O happy mother! then a mother most
+      When all her hopes seem'd vain:
+    Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost,
+      And found him born again.                          CL.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_Bonum intrare in coelos cum uno oculo, &c._ Matt. xviii. 9.
+
+    Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum:
+      Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?
+    Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus
+      Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.
+
+_It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c._
+
+    One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more,
+    To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore
+    Of eyes that has but Argus' store!
+    Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee,
+    O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be
+    All and every whit of me.                            CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give
+      A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.
+    All Argus' eyes were no superlative
+      To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.
+
+    Or, O my God, if unto those who die,
+    It be Thy will only to give one eye,
+    Grant my whole body that one eye to be,
+    That thus I may forever gaze on Thee.                 G.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatur._ Luc. xiv. 2-4.
+
+    Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso
+      Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis:
+    Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas;
+      Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.
+
+            Himself is his own sea;
+            Dropsy his malady
+            In sad severity.
+
+            But Christ the Lord he sees,
+            Who touching him him frees;
+            Now joyous and at ease.
+
+            Again, as I opine,
+            The Lord transmutes to wine
+            By miracle divine;
+
+            And now, still more and more,
+            His own wine-water store
+            Pours mirth at ev'ry pore.                  G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Non erat iis in diversorio locus._ Luc. ii. 7.
+
+    Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?
+      Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.
+    O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!
+      Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.
+
+_There was no room for them in the inn._
+
+    No place for Him! So Him you drive away;
+    You drive away your God, your God. O, stay!
+    O height of human madness! wonders rare!
+    No place for Him! without Whom no place were.         G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite._ Luc. xvi.
+
+    Felix, o, lacrymis, o Lazare, ditior istis,
+        Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes:
+    Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis,
+        Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.
+
+_Upon Lazarus his teares._
+
+    Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares,
+        Than Dives in the roabes he weares:
+    He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well
+        With th' purple he must weare in Hell!           CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears
+    Than he who midst his riches purple wears.
+    Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his:
+    Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti._ Matt. xxvi. 65.
+
+    Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis:
+      Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.
+    Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos
+      Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.
+
+_Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ._
+
+    Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!
+    His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.
+    Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he
+    Who leaves not God His own Divinity!                  G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant;
+      O verbi, o dextrae dulcia regna tuae!
+    Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?
+      Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.[49]
+
+_But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed
+not on Him._
+
+    For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord;
+    Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.
+    Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus
+    Made unbelief itself miraculous.                     CL.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_Ad S. Andream piscatorem._ Marc. i. 16.
+
+    Quippe potes pulchre captare et fallere pisces;
+      Centum illic discis lubricus ire dolis.
+    Heus, bone piscator! tendit sua retia Christus:
+      Artem inverte, et jam tu quoque disce capi.
+
+_To S. Andrew, fisherman._
+
+    How cleverly the fishes he beguiles!
+    He learns to use a hundred cunning wiles.
+    Ho, thou good Fisher: Christ casts out His net;
+    Now haste thou to be caught; for thee 'tis set.       G.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Ego sum vox, &c._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, genitor cur tibi mutus erat?
+    Ista tui fuerant quam mira silentia patris!
+      Vocem non habuit tunc quoque cum genuit.
+
+_I am the voice._
+
+    'I am the voice,' thou sayest. Thou holy John,
+      If voice thou art, why was thy father dumb?
+    O silence strange! which as I muse upon,
+      I see thy voice from God, not man, did come.        G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Vincula sponte decidunt._ Act. xii. 7.
+
+    Qui ferro Petrum cumulas, durissime custos,
+      A ferro disces mollior esse tuo.
+    Ecce fluit, nodisque suis evolvitur ultro:
+      I, fatue, et vinc'lis vincula pone tuis.
+
+_The chains spontaneously fall off._
+
+    Who loadest him with chains, thou jailer stern,
+    To be more kind e'en from those chains shalt learn.
+    Lo, they dissolve, and their own knots untie.
+    Go, fool, and chains with chains to fetter try.       G.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+IN DIEM OMNIUM SANCTORUM.
+
+_Ne laedite terrain, neque mare, neque arbores, quousque obsignaverimus
+servos Dei nostri in frontibus suis._ Rev. vii. 3.
+
+    Nusquam immitis agat ventus sua murmura, nusquam
+      Sylva tremat, crispis sollicitata comis.
+    Aequa Thetis placide allabens ferat oscula Terrae;
+      Terra suos Thetidi pandat amica sinus:
+    Undique pax effusa piis volet aurea pennis,
+      Frons bona dum signo est quaeque notata suo.
+    Ah, quid in hoc opus est signis aliunde petendis?
+      Frons bona sat lacrymis quaeque notata suis.
+
+_On All-Saints' Day._
+
+    Let wind with murmurs harsh nowhere be heard;
+    Nowhere wood tremble, its curl'd tresses stirr'd.
+    Calm-flowing Sea greet Earth with kisses bland,
+    Earth unto Sea its bosom kind expand.
+    Let holy Peace on golden pinions steal,
+    Till each blest brow is mark'd with its own seal.
+    Ah, why elsewhere for this, need signs be sought?
+    To each blest brow tears seal enough have brought.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In die Conjurationis sulphureae._
+
+    Quam bene dispositis annus dat currere festis!
+      Post omnes Sanctos omne scelus sequitur.
+
+_Upon the Powder-day._
+
+    How fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow!
+    All-mischiefe comes after All-Hallow.[50]            CR.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Deus sub utero Virginis._ Luc. i. 31.
+
+    Ecce tuus, Natura, pater; pater hic tuus hic est:
+      Ille, uterus matris quem tenet, ille pater.
+    Pellibus exiguis arctatur Filius ingens,
+      Quem tu non totum, crede, nec ipsa capis.
+    Quanta uteri, Regina, tui reverentia tecum est,
+      Dum jacet hic coelo sub breviore Deus!
+    Conscia divino gliscunt praecordia motu,
+      Nec vehit aethereos sanctior aura polos.
+    Quam bene sub tecto tibi concipiuntur eodem
+      Vota, et, vota cui concipienda, Deus!
+    Quod nubes alia, et tanti super atria coeli
+      Quaerunt, invenient hoc tua vota domi.
+    O felix anima haec, quae tam sua gaudia tangit!
+      Sub conclave suo cui suus ignis adest.
+    Corpus amet, licet, illa suum, neque sidera malit:
+      Quod vinc'lum est aliis, hoc habet illa domum.
+    Sola jaces, neque sola; toro quocunque recumbis,
+      Illo estis positi tuque tuusque toro.
+    Immo ubi casta tuo posita es cum conjuge conjunx;
+      Quod mirum magis est, es tuus ipsa torus.
+
+_God in the Virgin's womb._
+
+    Thy Father, Nature, here thy Father see:
+    Whom womb of mother holds, thy Father He.
+    Scant teguments the mighty Son enchain,
+    Whom thou thyself not wholly dost contain.
+    What reverence, Queen, to thine own womb is given,
+    While God lies here beneath a lesser heaven!
+    With sacred motion swells her conscious breast;
+    Nor are the poles upborne by airs more blest.
+    'Neath the same roof are well conceiv'd by thee
+    Vows, and the God to whom vows offer'd be.
+    What other prayers o'er clouds and sky's vast bound
+    Seek, by thy prayers this will at home be found.
+    Blest soul, so nigh to thy supreme desire,
+    To which 'neath its own shrine dwells its own fire.
+    She may her body love, nor heaven prefer:
+    What chains down others is a home to her.
+    Lone, yet not lone, where'er thou dost recline;
+    On that same couch are laid both thou and thine.
+    Nay, when with thy chaste spouse, chaste wife thou'rt laid--
+    More strange, thyself thine own blest couch art made.  R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores Stephani._ Act. vii. 59.
+
+    Frustra illum increpitant, frustra vaga saxa: nec illi
+      Grandinis, heu, saevae! dura procella nocet.
+    Ista potest tolerare, potest nescire; sed illi,
+      Quae sunt in vestro pectore, saxa nocent.
+
+_To the Jews, murderers of St. Stephen._
+
+    Vainly ye cast stones, Jews; they give no shock:
+      Shower as the hail-storm, it is all in vain.
+    These he shall bear, and heed not: 'tis the rock
+      Of your obdurate hearts that gives him pain.        G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_D. Joannes in exilio._ Rev. i. 9.
+
+    Exul, amor Christi est: Christum tamen invenit exul:
+      Et solitos illic invenit ille sinus.
+    Ah, longo, aeterno ah terras indicite nobis
+      Exilio, Christi si sinus exilium est.
+
+_St. John in exile._
+
+    Love to Christ an exile is,
+      Yet the exile findeth Christ;
+    All the dear familiar bliss,
+      And the bosom-joys unpric'd.
+    Ah, Lord, exile long to us,
+      Never-ending e'en be sent,
+    If we find Christ's bosom thus
+      As our place of banishment.                         G.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Ad infantes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16.
+
+    Fundite ridentes animas, effundite coelo;
+      Discet ibi vestra, o quam bene! lingua loqui.
+    Nec vos lac vestrum et maternos quaerite fontes:
+      Quae vos expectat lactea tota via est.
+
+_To the infant martyrs._
+
+    Go, smiling soules, your new-built cages breake,
+    In Heav'n you'l learne to sing ere here to speake:
+    Nor let the milky fonts that bath your thirst
+                            Bee your delay;
+    The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
+                            Milke all the way.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Depart, ye smiling souls, to Heaven depart:
+    Your tongues may there learn best the speaking art.
+    Stay not to suck, sweet children, do not stay:
+    Cry not; for you shall go the milky way.              B.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_Quaerit Jesum suum beata Virgo._ Luc. ii. 45.
+
+    Ah, redeas miserae, redeas, puer alme, parenti;
+      Ah, neque te coelis tam cito redde tuis.
+    Coelum nostra tuum fuerint, o, brachia, si te
+      Nostra suum poterunt brachia ferre Deum.
+
+_The blessed Virgin seeks Jesus._
+
+    Ah, to Thy mother, ah, return,
+                  my fair, beloved Son;
+    Return not to Thy native skies,
+                  my heaven-descended One.
+    Thy mother's arms Thy heaven would be,
+                  enfolding Thee around;
+    If thus within these innocent arms
+                  the great God might be found.[51]       G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Non sum dignus ut sub tecta mea venias._ Matt. viii. 8.
+
+    In tua tecta Deus veniet: tuus haud sinit illud
+      Et pudor atque humili in pectore celsa fides.
+    Illum ergo accipies, quoniam non accipis: ergo
+      In te jam veniet, non tua tecta Deus.[52]
+
+
+_I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roofe._
+
+    Thy God was making hast into thy roofe;
+    Thy humble faith and feare keepes him aloofe.
+    Hee'll be thy guest, because He may not be;
+    Hee'll come--into thy house? No, into thee.          CR.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Christus accusatus nihil respondet._ Matt. xxvii. 12.
+
+    Nil ait: o sanctae pretiosa silentia linguae!
+      Ponderis o quanti res nihil illud erat!
+    Ille olim verbum qui dixit, et omnia fecit,
+      Verbum non dicens omnia nunc reficit.
+
+_And He answered them nothing._
+
+    O mighty Nothing! unto thee,
+    Nothing, wee owe all things that bee.
+    God spake once when Hee all things made,
+    Hee sav'd all when Hee Nothing said.
+    The world was made of Nothing then;
+    'Tis made by Nothing now againe.                     CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    'Nothing He said.'
+    O precious silence of that sacred tongue!
+    O what vast interests on that Nothing hung!
+    He who once spoke the word, and all things made,
+    Now re-makes all, when not a word is said.            G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Spesne meas tandem ergo mei tenuere lacerti?
+      Ergo bibunt oculos lumina nostra tuos?
+    Ergo bibant: possintque novam sperare juventam:
+      O possint senii non meminisse sui!
+    Immo mihi potius mitem mors induat umbram,
+      Esse sub his oculis si tamen umbra potest.
+    Ah, satis est. Ego te vidi, puer auree, vidi:
+      Nil post te, nisi te, Christe, videre volo.[53]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    And is my hope grasp'd in these arms of mine
+    At last, and do these eyes drink light from Thine?
+    There let them drink with a new youth in store,
+    And feel the dimming touch of age no more.
+    Nay rather, if Thine eyes can give it room,
+    Let Death's soft shadow gently o'er them come.
+    Thee have I seen, O Child: enough for me:
+    I care not to behold aught else but Thee.            CL.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Verbum inter spinas._ Luc. viii. 7.
+
+    Saepe Dei verbum sentes cadit inter, et atrum
+      Miscet spina procax, ah, male juncta! latus.
+    Credo quidem: nam sic spinas, ah, scilicet inter
+      Ipse Deus verbum tu quoque, Christe, cadis.
+
+
+_The Word among thorns._
+
+    Often and often 'good words' fall
+    Where thorns and briars rankly crawl;
+    Their spines lay hold, and choke, and pierce--
+    Like to wild beast in hunger fierce.
+    I know it: for like flash of sword
+    I read 'twas so with Thee THE WORD:
+    God, e'en my God, Thou wast in truth;
+    But fell'st 'mong thorns, which show'd no ruth.       G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+_Sabbatum Judaicum et Christianum._ Luc. xiv. 5.
+
+    Res eadem vario quantum distinguitur usu:
+      Nostra hominem servant sabbata, vestra bovem.
+    Observent igitur, pacto quid justius isto?
+      Sabbata nostra homines, sabbata vestra boves.
+
+_The Judaic and Christian Sabbath._
+
+    How diff'rent grows a thing through diff'rent use!
+    _Our_ Sabbaths serve men, _yours_ give oxen truce,
+    Be this agreed--arrangement fitter none--
+    _Our_ Sabbath men keep, _yours_ oxen alone.           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_Ad verbum Dei sanatur caecus._ Marc. x. 52.
+
+    Christe, loquutus eras, o sacra licentia verbi:
+      Jamque novus caeci fluxit in ora dies.
+    Jam credo, Nemo[54] est, sicut Tu, Christe, loquutus:
+      Auribus? immo oculis, Christe, loquutus eras.
+
+
+_The blind cured by the word of our Saviour._
+
+    Thou spak'st the word--Thy word's a law;
+    Thou spak'st, and straight the blind man saw.
+    To speak and make the blind to see,
+    Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.
+    To speak thus was to speak, say I,
+    Not to his eare, but to his eye.                     CR.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+_Onus meum leve est._ Matt. xi. 30.
+
+    Esse levis quicunque voles, onus accipe Christi:
+      Ala tuis humeris, non onus, illud erit.
+    Christi onus an quaeris quam sit grave? scilicet audi,
+      Tam grave, ut ad summos te premat usque polos.
+
+_My burden is light._
+
+    Askest how thou may'st lightly loaded be?
+      Christ's _burden_ take from me:
+    A wing to lift, no load to press thee down,
+      Thou it wilt feel and own.
+    Dost ask how heavy may Christ's _burden_ be?
+      Then list, O man, to me:
+    So _heavy_, that whoe'er 'neath it enrolls,
+      It lifts to the highest poles.                      G.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+_Miraculum quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 1-13.
+
+    Ecce, vagi venit unda cibi; venit indole sacra
+      Fortis, et in dentes fertilis innumeros.
+    Quando erat invictae tam sancta licentia coenae?
+      Illa famem populi poscit, et illa fidem.
+
+_On the miracle of loaves._
+
+    Now, Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on Thee;
+    Thou to their teeth hast prov'd Thy deity.           CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See, loaves in heaps, blest growth, spread far and wide,
+    For mouths innumerable multiplied.
+    Feast holy, free, invincible like this,
+    Claims the crowd's hunger, and their faith, I wis.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nunc scimus te habere daemonium._ Joan. viii. 52.
+
+    Aut Deus, aut saltem daemon tibi notior esset,
+      Gens mala, quae dicis daemona habere Deum.
+    Ignorasse Deum poteras, o caeca; sed oro,
+      Et patrem poteras tam male nosse tuum?
+
+_Now we know Thee to have a devil._
+
+    God or the devil by you
+                    ought better to be known,
+    Ye wicked ones, who charge
+                    your God a devil to own.
+    Ign'rant of God, indeed,
+                    ye well might be; but O,
+    The devil, your own father,
+                     how could ye fail to know?           G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    In gremio, quaeris, cur sic sua lumina Virgo
+      Ponat? ubi melius poneret illa, precor?
+    O ubi, quam coelo, melius sua lumina ponat?
+      Despicit, at coelum sic tamen illa videt.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's bashfulness._
+
+    That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
+    'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.
+    The faire starre is well fixt, for where, O, where,
+    Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare?
+    'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heaven's God there lyes;
+    She can see Heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes.
+    This new guest to her eyes new lawes hath given:
+    'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven. CR.
+
+
+LII.
+
+_In vulnera Dei pendentis._
+
+    O frontis, lateris, manuumque pedumque cruores;
+      O quae purpureo flumina fonte patent:
+    In nostram, ut quondam, pes non valet ire salutem,
+      Sed natat; in fluviis, ah, natat ille suis.
+    Fixa manus; dat, fixa: pios bona dextera rores
+      Donat, et in donum solvitur ipsa suum.
+    O latus, o torrens; quis enim torrentior exit
+      Nilus, ubi pronis praecipitatur aquis?
+    Mille et mille simul cadit et cadit undique guttis
+      Frons: viden' ut saevus purpuret ora pudor?
+    Spinae hoc irriguae florent crudeliter imbre,
+      Inque novas sperant protinus ire rosas.
+    Quisque capillus it exiguo tener alveus amne,
+      Hoc quasi de rubro rivulus oceano.
+    O nimium vivae pretiosis amnibus undae:
+      Fons vitae nunquam verior ille fuit.
+
+_On the wounds of our crucified Lord._
+
+    O bleeding wounds of brow, feet, hands, and side;
+    Rivers which from a purple fount spread wide.
+    No more to save us now that foot can go,
+    But swims in streams which from its own wounds flow.
+    Transfix'd His hand yet gives--gives dewdrops holy,
+    And into its own gift is melted wholly.
+    O side, O torrent; for with torrent strong
+    What flooded Nile more swift is driven along?
+    Drops from His brow in thousands fall and fall;
+    See to His face a cruel blush they call.
+    By this sad shower the thorns unkindly nurst
+    Soon into new-blown roses hope to burst.
+    Each hair becomes a slender streamlet's bed,
+    As if a rivulet from this ocean red.
+    O waves too much alive with precious streams,
+    Nowhere a fount of life more truly gleams.[55]    R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_Quare cum Publicanis manducat Magister vester?_ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Ergo istis socium se peccatoribus addit?
+      Ergo istis sacrum non negat ille latus?
+    Tu, Pharisaee, rogas, Jesus cur fecerit istud?
+      Nae dicam: Jesus, non Pharisaeus, erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with Publicans?_
+
+    Wherefore associates He with sinners vile?
+    Why hides He not His holy self the while?
+    Askest thou, Pharisee, how this can be?
+    Because 'tis Jesus, not a Pharisee.                  G.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+_Ecce locus ubi jacuit Dominus._
+
+    Ipsum, ipsum, precor, o potius mini, candide, monstra:
+      Ipsi, ipsi o lacrymis oro sit ire meis.
+    Si monstrare locum satis est, et dicere nobis,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus;
+    Ipsa ulnas monstrare meas, et dicere possum,
+      En, Maria, hic tuus en hic jacuit Dominus.
+
+    {Phaidime, moi auton mallon moi deiknythi auton.
+      Autos mou, deomai, autos eche dakrya.
+    Ei de topon moi deiknynai halis esti, kai eipein,
+      Hode teos, Mariam, enide, keito anax;
+    Ankoinas mou deiknynai dynamai ge kai eipein,
+      Hode teos, Mariam, enide, keito anax.}
+
+_Come, see the place where the Lord lay._
+
+    Show me Himselfe, Himselfe, bright Sir, O show
+    Which way my poore tears to Himselfe may goe.
+    Were it enough to show the place, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay;
+    Then could I show these armes of mine, and say,
+    Looke, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay.
+
+_Vpon the sepulchre of our Lord._
+
+    Here, where our Lord once laid His head,
+    Now the grave lies buried.                           CR.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_Leprosi ingrati._ Luc. xvii. 11-19.
+
+    Lex jubet ex hominum coetu procul ire leprosos:
+      At mundi a Christo cur abiere procul?
+    Non abit, at sedes tantum mutavit in illis;
+      Et lepra, quae fuerat corpore, mente sedet.
+    Sic igitur digna vice res variatur; et a se
+      Quam procul ante homines, nunc habuere Deum.
+
+_The unthankful lepers. (Where are the nine?)_
+
+    The Lord commands the lepers
+      far off from men to stay:
+    But cleansed by the Lord,
+      why went the Nine away?
+    The leprosy remaineth,
+      chang'd only in its seat:
+    Expelled from the body,
+      to the soul it makes retreat.
+    Now by fit retribution
+      a change is brought about:
+    Before shut out from men,
+      from God they're now shut out.                  G.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+_In cicatrices quas Christus habet in se adhuc superstites._ Joan. xx.
+
+    Quicquid spina procax, vel stylo clavus acuto,
+      Quicquid purpurea scripserat hasta nota,
+    Vivit adhuc tecum; sed jam tua vulnera non sunt:
+      Non, sed vulneribus sunt medicina meis.
+
+_On the still-surviving markes of our Saviour's wounds._
+
+    Whatever story of their crueltie,
+    Or naile, or thorne, or speare have writ in Thee,
+              Are in another sence
+                  Still legible;
+              Sweet is the difference:
+                  Once I did spell
+              Every red letter
+                  A wound of Thine;
+              Now, what is better,
+                  Balsome for mine.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Each bloody, cruel character,
+      Thorn, nail, and spear had written,
+    When here, as man's great Arbiter,
+      On Calvary Thou wert smitten,
+    Thou wearest still above, O Lord:
+      But now no longer wounds they are;
+    According to Thy Holy Word,
+      They med'cine for my wounds declare.                G.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+_Aeger implorat umbram D. Petri._ Act. v. 15.
+
+    Petre, tua lateam paulisper, Petre, sub umbra:
+      Sic mea me quaerent fata, nec invenient.
+    Umbra dabit tua posse meum me cernere solem;
+      Et mea lux umbrae sic erit umbra tuae.
+
+_The sick implore St. Peter's shadow._
+
+    Under thy shadow may I lurke awhile,
+    Death's busie search I'le easily beguile:
+    Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the sun;
+    My light's thy shadowe's shadow, or 'tis done.       CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    O Peter, Peter, let thy shadow fall
+    Where I in wretchedness a-weary crawl:
+    Here vainly shall my fates upon me call.
+    Thy shadow me shall guide unto my sun--
+    Whoe'er sought Him in truth, and was undone?--
+    And so my light, thy shadow, shall be one.            G.
+
+
+LVIII.
+
+_Quid turbati estis? Videte manus meas et pedes, quia ego ipse sum._
+Luc. xxiv. 39.
+
+    En me et signa mei, quondam mea vulnera: certe,
+      Vos nisi credetis, vulnera sunt et adhuc.
+    O nunc ergo fidem sanent mea vulnera vestram:
+      O mea nunc sanet vulnera vestra fides.
+
+_Why are ye troubled?... Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I
+myself._
+
+    'Tis I; behold My proofs, My wounds of old;
+      Wounds which still bleed, if you will not believe.
+    O, now to heal your faith My wounds behold,
+      And healing from your faith My wounds receive.
+
+
+LIX.
+
+_In vincula Petro sponte delapsa, et apertas fores._ Act. xii. 7, 10.
+
+    Ferri non meminit ferrum: se vincula Petro
+      Dissimulant: nescit carcer habere fores.
+    Quam bene liber erit, carcer quem liberat! ipsa
+      Vincula quem solvunt, quam bene tutus erit!
+
+_The chains spontaneously fell from Peter, and the (prison)-doors
+opened._
+
+    Iron forgets 'tis iron;
+      the chains dissemble too;
+    Nor has the prison doors
+      for Peter now.
+    Free truly is that pris'ner
+      who by the prison's freed;
+    Whom chains themselves unbind
+      free is indeed.
+
+
+LX.
+
+_Deferebantur a corpore ejus sudaria, &c._ Act. xix. 12.
+
+    Imperiosa premunt morbos, et ferrea fati
+      Jura ligant, Pauli lintea tacta manu.
+    Unde haec felicis laus est et gloria lini?
+      Haec, reor, e Lachesis pensa fuere colo.
+
+_From his body there were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs, &c._
+
+    They quell disease, and sway Fate's iron bands,
+    These lordly linen cloths touched by Paul's hands.
+    Whence rose the glory of their happy fame?
+    From the Fates' distaff, sure, these kerchiefs came.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXI.
+
+_Christus vitis ad vinitorem Patrem._ Joan. xv. 1-6.
+
+    En serpit tua, purpureo tua palmite vitis
+      Serpit, et, ah, spretis it per humum foliis.
+    Tu viti succurre tuae, mi Vinitor ingens:
+      Da fulcrum; fulcrum da mihi: quale? crucem.
+
+_Christ the Vine to the Vinedresser-Father._
+
+    Lo, Thy vine trails, trails with a purple shoot,
+    Scatt'ring its leaves before it beareth fruit.
+    Succour Thy vine, great Vinedresser, from loss:
+    Support, support me, Lord: how? With Thy cross.       G.
+
+
+LXII.
+
+_Pene persuades mihi ut fiam Christianus._ Act. xxvi. 28.
+
+    Pene? quid hoc pene est? Vicinia saeva salutis!
+      O quam tu malus es proximitate boni!
+    Ah, portu qui teste perit, bis naufragus ille est;
+      Hunc non tam pelagus, quam sua terra premit.
+    Quae nobis spes vix absunt, crudelius absunt:
+      Pene sui felix, emphasis est miseri.
+
+_Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian._
+
+    _Almost?_ What word is this we hear?
+    O doubly lost, with heaven so near!
+    To perish in the neighbourhood
+    Of vast but unavailing good!
+    He shipwreck undergoes twice o'er
+    Who perishes in sight of shore,
+    And less by ocean is o'ercome
+    Than by that hopeless glimpse of home.
+    The hopes that almost seem our own
+    Leave all the keener sting when gone;
+    And just to miss felicity
+    Is but emphatic misery.                              CL.
+
+
+LXIII.
+
+_Lux venit in mundum, sed dilexerunt homines magis tenebras quam lucem._
+Joan. iii. 19.
+
+    Luce sua venit ecce Deus, mundoque refulget;
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas.
+    At Stygiis igitur mundus damnabitur umbris:
+      Pergit adhuc tenebras mundus amare suas?
+
+_But men loved darkness rather than light._
+
+    The world's Light shines: shine as it will,
+    The world will love its darknesse still.
+    I doubt though, when the world's in hell,
+    It will not love its darknesse halfe so well.        CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Behold the day of Christ! God comes with light;
+    Yet the world loves the darkness of the night.
+    Therefore the world to Stygian darkness will
+    Be damn'd: and doth the world love darkness still?    B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Lo, God comes girt with light,
+      and all the world o'ershines:
+    The world abides in night,
+      nor watcheth for the signs.
+    To Stygian darkness hurl'd
+      on the great Day of Doom,
+    Shalt thou, night-loving world,
+      still love thy lightless gloom?                     G.
+
+
+LXIV.
+
+_Dives implorat guttam._ Luc. xvi. 24.
+
+    O mihi si digito tremat et tremat unica summo
+      Gutta! o si flammas mulceat una meas!
+    Currat opum quocunque volet levis unda mearum;
+      Una mihi haec detur gemmula, Dives ero.
+
+_Dives asking a drop._
+
+    A drop, one drop! how sweetly one faire drop
+    Would tremble on my pearle-tipt finger's top!
+    My wealth is gone: O, goe it where it will,
+    Spare this one iewell, I'le be Dives still.          CR.
+
+
+LXV.
+
+_Quomodo potest homo gigni qui est senex?_ Joan. iii. 4.
+
+    Dic, Phoenix unde in nitidos novus emicat annos,
+      Plaudit et elusos aurea penna rogos?
+    Quis colubrum dolus insinuat per secula retro,
+      Et jubet emeritum luxuriare latus?
+    Cur rostro pereunte suam praedata senectam
+      Torva ales, rapido plus legit ore diem?
+    Immo, sed ad nixus praestat Lucina secundos?
+      Natales seros unde senex habeat.
+    Ignoras, Pharisaee? sat est: jam credere disces:
+      Dimidium fidei, qui bene nescit, habet.
+
+_How can a man be born when he is old?_
+
+    See how new Phoenix into bright life springs,
+    And fans the unhurting flames with golden wings.
+    O'er snake what subtle change creeps as months flow,
+    Bidding its faded frame with beauty glow.
+    Why, on itself with worn beak having prey'd,
+    Is raven old more youthful swift array'd?
+    O'er second birth-throes bears Lucina sway,
+    Whence an old man may have late natal day?
+    Pharisee, know'st not? Well, now faith thou'lt learn:
+    Wisely to know not, half faith's crown doth earn.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXVI.
+
+_Arbor Christi jussu arescens._ Marc. xi. 13.
+
+    Ille jubet: procul ite mei, mea gloria, rami:
+      Nulla vocet nostras amplius aura comas.
+    Ite, nec o pigeat; nam vos neque fulminis ira,
+      Nec trucis ala Noti verberat: ille jubet.
+    O vox, o Zephyro vel sic quoque dulcior omni;
+      Non possum Autumno nobiliore frui.
+
+_The tree dried up by the word of Christ._
+
+    He speaks: hence, leaves; my glory hence, away;
+    Thou Zephyr 'mid my leaves no longer play;
+    Begone: nor grieve: 'tis not the lightning's wrath,
+    Nor wing of the storm-wind that smites: HE saith.
+    O voice, than Zephyr sweeter far to me;
+    More noble autumn-fruit could never be.               G.
+
+
+LXVII.
+
+_Zacharias minus credens._ Luc. i. 12.
+
+    Infantis fore te patrem, res mira videtur;
+      Infans interea factus es ipse pater.
+    Et dum promissi signum, nimis anxie, quaeris,
+      Jam nisi per signum quaerere nulla potes.
+
+_Zacharias incredulous._
+
+    To have a child thou deem'st so strange a thing,
+    That thou art made a child for wondering.
+    Whilst for a sign too eagerly thou dost call,
+    Except by sign thou can'st not ask at all.           CL.
+
+
+LXVIII.
+
+_In aquam baptismi Dominici._ Matt. iii. 13-16.
+
+    Felix o, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus;
+      Felix, dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.
+    Gutta quidem sacros quaecunque perambulat artus,
+      Dum manet hic, gemma est; dum cadit hinc, lacryma.
+
+_On the water of our Lord's baptisme._
+
+    Each blest drop on each blest limme
+    Is washt itselfe in washing Him:
+    'Tis a gemme while it stayes here;
+    While it falls hence 'tis a teare.                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Happy the water washt His sacred side;
+    In washing Christ itself is purify'd.
+    Each drop that trickled down His body, there
+    Staying a gem, thence falling was a tear.             B.
+
+
+LXIX.
+
+_Mulieri incurvatae medetur Dominus, indignante Archisynagogo._ Luc.
+xiii. 11.
+
+    In proprios replicata sinus quae repserat, et jam
+      Daemonis, infelix, nil nisi nodus erat,
+    Solvitur ad digitum Domini: sed strictior illo
+      Unicus est nodus; cor, Pharisaee, tuum.
+
+_The bowed-down woman healed by the Lord, the Synagogue-ruler is
+displeased._
+
+    Creeping and doubled erewhile in her woe,
+    Lo, now she stands erect: Christ willed it so.
+    Daemonic knots are loos'd beneath His hands;
+    But thy heart, Pharisee, still rigid stands.          G.
+
+
+LXX.
+
+_Neque ausus fuit quisquam ex illo die eum amplius interrogare._ Matt.
+xxii. 46.
+
+    Christe, malas fraudes, Pharisaica retia, fallis:
+      Et miseros sacro discutis ore dolos.
+    Ergo tacent tandem, atque invita silentia servant:
+      Tam bene non aliter te potuere loqui.[56]
+
+_Neither durst any man from that day forth ask Him any more questions._
+
+    Nets, frauds of Pharisees, the Lord beguiles;
+    His sacred lips disperse the wretched wiles.
+    So they were silent--enforc'd so to be:
+    Such silence, Lord, their best address to Thee.       G.
+
+
+LXXI.
+
+_S. Joannes matri suae._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    O mihi cur dextram, mater, cur, oro, sinistram
+      Poscis, ab officio mater iniqua tuo?
+    Nolo manum Christi dextram mihi, nolo sinistram:
+      Tam procul a sacro non libet esse sinu.
+
+
+_St. John and his mother._
+
+    Mother, why ask you right or left for me?
+    The benefit would be an injury.
+    Nor right nor left for me convenient are:
+    From His sweet bosome either is too far.              B.
+
+
+LXXII.
+
+_Si filius Dei es, dejice te._ Matt. iv. 6.
+
+    Ni se dejiciat Christus de vertice Templi,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+    At mox te humano de pectore dejicit: heus tu,
+      Non credes quod sit Filius ille Dei?
+
+_If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down._
+
+    Cast Thyself from the pinacle whereon
+    I set Thee, or I think Thee not God's Son.
+    No; but He'l cast thee from the hearts of men,
+    Satan. Wilt not believe He's God's Son then?          B.
+
+
+LXXIII.
+
+_Dominus flens ad Judaeos._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Discite, vos miseri, venientes discite flammas;
+      Nec facite o lacrymas sic periisse meas.
+    Nec periisse tamen poterunt: mihi credite, vestras
+      Vel reprimet flammas haec aqua, vel faciet.
+
+_The Lord weeping over the Jews._
+
+    Think on the coming flames I would prevent;
+    Let not My tears for you in vain be spent.
+    And yet they can't be spent in vain; for sure
+    This water flames will quench, or else procure.       B.
+
+
+LXXIV.
+
+_Nec velut hic Publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Istum? vile caput! quantum mihi gratulor, inquis,
+      Istum quod novi tam mihi dissimilem!
+    Vilis at iste abiit sacris acceptior aris:
+      I nunc, et jactes hunc tibi dissimilem.
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    Him, 'vile wretch!' Ah, myself how much I pride
+      That I am utterly unlike to him!
+    The 'vile wretch' leaves God's altar justified:
+      Now go and boast thou art unlike to him.            G.
+
+
+LXXV.
+
+_In Saulum fulgore nimio excaecatum._ Act. ix. 3.
+
+    Quae lucis tenebrae? quae nox est ista dici?
+      Nox nova, quam nimii luminis umbra facit.
+    An Saulus fuerit caecus, vix dicere possum;
+      Hoc scio, quod captus lumine Saulus erat.[57]
+
+_On Saul blinded with too much light._
+
+    What darken'd noon is here? what mid-day night?
+    It is the shadow cast by too much light.
+    Saul may be blind or not; all I can say,
+    Ta'en within Heaven's light earth's light fades away.  R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVI.
+
+_Beati oculi qui vident._ Luc. x. 23.
+
+    Cum Christus nostris ibat mitissimus oris,
+      Atque novum caecos jussit habere diem,
+    Felices, oculos qui tunc habuere, vocantur?
+      Felices, et qui non habuere, voco.
+
+_Blessed are the eyes which see._
+
+    When Christ with us on Earth did sympathize,
+    And to the poor blind men restor'd their eyes,
+    Happy they who had eyes. Not they alone;
+    I call them also happy who had none.                  B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    When Christ on earth moved on His pitying way,
+    And bade the blind look up and find new day,
+    Was eyesight then such bliss to every one?
+    Yet I will deem them happy who had none.              G.
+
+
+LXXVII.
+
+_Filius e feretro matri redditur._ Luc. vii. 15.
+
+    Ergone tam subita potuit vice flebilis horror
+      In natalitia candidus ire toga?
+    Quos vidi, matris gemitus hos esse dolentis
+      Credideram; gemitus parturientis erant.
+
+_Her son is delivered to his mother from the bier._
+
+    With such quick change could tear-bedew'd Dismay
+    Give birthday smiles, and walk in white array?
+    Heard I bereaved mother's wailings wild?
+    No; the blest cries of one who bears a child!     R. WI.
+
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+_In seculi sapientes._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Ergone delicias facit, et sibi plaudit ab alto
+      Stultitia, ut velit hac ambitione peti?
+    Difficilisne adeo facta est, et seria tandem?
+      Ergo et in hanc etiam quis sapuisse potest?
+    Tantum erat, ut possit tibi doctior esse ruina?
+      Tanti igitur cerebri res, periisse, fuit?
+    Nil opus ingenio; nihil hac opus arte furoris:
+      Simplicius poteris scilicet esse miser.
+
+_On the wise of this world._
+
+    With such complacent joys is Folly fraught,
+    That with this trouble she must needs be sought?
+    So difficult and grave is she turn'd now,
+    Can any one for her be wise enow?
+    Must Ruin to be deeper taught aspire?
+    To perish, does it so much brain require?
+    Genius and skill in madness who would see?
+    Forsooth, more simply you may wretched be!        R. WI.
+
+
+LXXIX.
+
+_In Judaeos Christum praecipitare conantes._ Luc. iv. 29.
+
+    Dicite, quae tanta est sceleris fiducia vestri,
+      Quod nequiit daemon, id voluisse scelus?
+    Quod nequiit daemon scelus, id voluisse patrare:
+      Hoc tentare ipsum daemona, credo, fuit.
+
+_The Jews seeking to cast Christ headlong from a precipice._
+
+    What daring leads you on, ungodly crew,
+    To that which ev'n the Devil durst not do?
+    Ye dare what he dares not? If truth be told,
+    Ye tempt the Devil's self to be more bold.            G.
+
+
+LXXX.
+
+_In draconem praecipitem._ Rev. xii. 9.
+
+    I, frustra truculente; tuas procul aurea rident
+      Astra minas, coelo jam bene tuta suo.
+    Tune igitur coelum super ire atque astra parabas?
+      Ascensu tanto non opus ad barathrum.
+
+_The casting-down of the dragon._
+
+    Go, Dragon! the fair stars smile at thy threat,
+      Secure, serene, in native skies a-glow.
+    Thy throne o'er sky and stars thou fain would'st set;
+      Thou need'st not vault so high to plunge so low.    G.
+
+
+LXXXI.
+
+_Beatae Virgini credenti._ Luc. ii. 19.
+
+    Miraris, quid enim faceres? sed et haec quoque credis:
+      Haec uteri credis dulcia monstra tui.
+    En fidei, Regina, tuae dignissima merces:
+      Fida Dei fueras filia; mater eris.
+
+_The blessed Virgin believing._
+
+    Thou wondered'st! how else could'st thou so guarded?
+      Yet thou believ'dst the mighty coming birth;
+    Queen! thy faith's working is full well rewarded;
+      God's daughter, thou God's mother art on earth.     G.
+
+
+LXXXII.
+
+_Licetne Caesari censum dare?_ Marc. xii. 14.
+
+    Post tot Scribarum, Christe, in te proelia, tandem
+      Ipse venit Caesar; Caesar in arma venit.
+    Pugnant terribiles non Caesaris ense, sed ense
+      Caesare: quin Caesar vinceris ipse tamen.
+    Hoc quoque tu conscribe tuis, Auguste, triumphis.
+      Sic vinci dignus quis nisi Caesar erat?
+
+_Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar?_
+
+    After so many battles with the Scribes, O Lord,
+    Caesar himself comes; Caesar with his sword.
+    They fight not arm'd with Caesar's sword indeed;
+    But Caesar as their sword with craft they plead.
+    Conquer'd thyself, O Caesar, make it known--
+    Who save thee, worthy so to be o'erthrown.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+_In tibicines et turbam tumultuantem circa defunctam._ Matt. ix. 23.
+
+    Vani, quid strepitis? nam quamvis dormiat illa,[58]
+      Non tamen e somno est sic revocanda suo.
+    Expectat solos Christi sopor iste susurros:
+      Dormit enim; sed non omnibus illa tamen.
+
+
+_The minstrels and crowd making a noise about the dead._
+
+    Vain mourning this; why make ye such loud noise?
+      She sleeps indeed, but so will not awake.
+    Her sleep waits for the whisper of His voice
+      Who a great promise to her father spake.            G.
+
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+_Piscatores vocati._ Matt. iv. 19.
+
+    Ludite jam, pisces, secura per aequora: pisces
+      Nos quoque, sed varia sub ratione, sumus.
+    Non potuisse capi, vobis spes una salutis:
+      Una salus nobis est, potuisse capi.
+
+_The fishermen called._
+
+    Play, fishes, in your waters, safely play:
+    We become fishes too, another way.
+    Not to be taken, to you safety brought:
+    But we are then most safe when we are caught.         B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Careless, aneath the waves, ye fishes, play:
+    We too are fishes, in a different way;
+    Ye die, we live, being caught; and that for aye.      G.
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Sport, fishes, now, within the secure sea:
+    Lo, fishes too, in different kind, are we.
+    In shunning nets your hope of safety lay;
+    Our safety is to be the netter's prey.                A.
+
+
+LXXXV.
+
+_Date Caesari._ Marc. xii. 17.
+
+    Cuncta Deo debentur: habet tamen et sua Caesar;
+      Nec minus inde Deo est, si sua Caesar habet.
+    Non minus inde Deo est, solio si caetera dantur
+      Caesareo, Caesar cum datur ipse Deo.
+
+_Give to Caesar ... and to God...._
+
+    All we have is God's, and yet
+    Caesar challenges a debt;
+    Nor hath God a thinner share,
+    Whatever Caesar's payments are.
+    All is God's; and yet 'tis true
+    All we have is Caesar's too.
+    All is Caesar's; and what ods,
+    So long as Caesar's selfe is God's?                   CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    All things belong to God, yet Caesar has his all;
+    Not due the less to God that they to Caesar fall.
+    Not less they're God's because they're giv'n to Caesar's throne;
+    For Caesar's throne itself belongs to God alone.       G.
+
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+_Dominus asino vehitur._ Matt. xxi. 7.
+
+    Ille igitur vilem te, te dignatur asellum,
+      O non vectura non bene digne tua!
+    Heu, quibus haud pugnat Christi patientia monstris!
+      Hoc quod sic fertur, hoc quoque ferre fuit.
+
+_The Lord borne on the ass._
+
+    Does He, base ass, thus deign to honour thee,
+      Unworthy thus to bear th' incarnate God?
+    Alas, Thy patience strangely tried I see,
+      Thee carried thus who bear'st sin's awful load!     B.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    A common ass does the Lord dignify?
+    O, how unworthy such a burden high!
+    With the Lord's patience, ah, what can compare?
+    So to be borne, this also was to bear.            R. WI.
+
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+_Videbunt Filium hominis venientem in nube._ Luc. xxi. 27.
+
+    Immo, veni: aerios, o Christe, accingere currus,
+      Inque triumphali nube coruscus ades.
+    Nubem quaeris? erunt nostra, ah! suspiria nubes:
+      Aut sol in nubem se dabit ipse tuam.
+
+_They shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud._
+
+    Come, yoke Thy chariots of the air, O Lord;
+    Triumphal honours let bright clouds afford.
+    Dost seek a cloud? Our sighs a cloud will be,
+    Or the sun melt into a cloud for Thee.                G.
+
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+_Nisi digitum immisero, &c._ Joan. xx. 25.
+
+    Impius ergo iterum clavos? iterum impius hastam?
+      Et totum digitus triste revolvet opus?
+    Tune igitur Christum, Thoma, quo vivere credas,
+      In Christum faceres, ah truculente! mori?
+
+CHRIST TO THOMAS.
+
+_Except I shall put my finger, &c._
+
+    Thy impious finger, would it, then, re-borrow
+    The nails, the spear, each circumstance of sorrow?
+    That on a living Christ thou mayst rely,
+    Cruel, wouldst thou thy Christ re-crucify?            G.
+
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+_Ad Judaeos mactatores S. Stephani._ Act. vi. 9-12.
+
+    Quid datis, ah miseri! saxis nolentibus iras?
+      Quid nimis in tragicum praecipitatis opus?
+    In mortem Stephani se dant invita: sed illi
+      Occiso faciunt sponte sua tumulum.
+
+_To the Jews stoning St. Stephen._
+
+    Wretches, do ye put rage into cold stones?
+      Why rush so eagerly to work so vile?
+    Your stones unwilling add to Stephen's moans,
+      But gladly heap a tomb for him the while.           G.
+
+
+XC.
+
+_Sancto Joanni dilecto discipulo._
+
+    Tu fruere, augustoque sinu caput abde, quod o tum
+      Nollet in aeterna se posuisse rosa.
+    Tu fruere; et sacro dum te sic pectore portat,
+      O sat erit tergo me potuisse vehi.
+
+_To St. John the beloved disciple._
+
+    Upon His breast thy happy head reposes,
+    Nor would that pillow change for Heaven's own roses:
+    While thus His bosom bears up happy thee,
+    To press His shoulders were enough for me.            G.
+
+
+XCI.
+
+_In lactentes martyres._ Matt. ii. 16, 17.
+
+    Vulnera natorum qui vidit et ubera matrum,
+      Per pueros fluviis, ah! simul ire suis:
+    Sic pueros quisquis vidit, dubitavit an illos
+      Lilia coelorum diceret, anne rosas.
+
+_Upon the infant martyrs._
+
+    To see both blended in one flood,
+    The mothers' milk, the childrens' blood,
+    Makes me doubt if Heaven will gather
+    Roses hence, or lillies rather.                      CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    Who saw the infants' blood and milk of mother
+    Flowing, alas, in a commingl'd tide,
+    Doubtingly ask'd, and gaz'd from one to other,
+    Whether Heav'n's rose or lily they espy'd.            G.
+
+
+XCII.
+
+_Deus nobiscum._ Matt. i. 23.
+
+    Nobiscum Deus est? vestrum hoc est, hei mihi! vestrum:
+      Vobiscum Deus est, o asini atque boves.
+    Nobiscum non est; nam nos domus aurea sumit:
+      Nobiscum Deus est, et jacet in stabulo?
+    Hoc igitur nostrum ut fiat, dulcissime Jesu,
+      Nos dandi stabulis, vel tibi danda domus.
+
+_God with us._
+
+    Is God with us? Woe's me,
+    God is with you, ye beasts, I see.
+    God is with you, ye beasts;
+    God comes not to our golden feasts.
+    That God may be with us,
+    We must provide a lowly house.
+    God comes to the humble manger,
+    While to the great house a stranger.                  G.
+
+
+XCIII.
+
+_Christus circumcisus ad Patrem._
+
+    Has en primitias nostrae, Pater, accipe mortis;
+      Vitam ex quo sumpsi, vivere dedidici.
+    Ira, Pater, tua de pluvia gustaverit ista:
+      Olim ibit fluviis hoc latus omne suis.
+    Tunc sitiat licet et sitiat, bibet et bibet usque:
+      Tunc poterit toto fonte superba frui.
+    Nunc hastae interea possit praeludere culter:
+      Indolis in poenas spes erit ista meae.[59]
+
+
+XCIV.
+
+_In Epiphaniam Domini._ Matt. ii. 2.
+
+    Non solita contenta dies face lucis Eoae,
+      Ecce micat radiis caesariata novis.
+    Persa sagax, propera: discurre per ardua regum
+      Tecta, per auratas marmoreasque domus:
+    Quaere o, quae intepuit Reginae purpura partu;
+      Principe vagitu quae domus insonuit.
+    Audin' Persa sagax? Qui tanta negotia coelo
+      Fecit, Bethlemiis vagiit in stabulis.
+
+_The Epiphany of our Lord._
+
+    Scorning her wonted herald, lo, the Day
+    Now decks her forehead with a brighter ray.
+    Sage Persian, haste; ask where high roofs unfold
+    Their royal wealth of marble and of gold;
+    In what rich couch an Empress-mother lies;
+    What halls have heard a new-born Prince's cries.
+    Wouldst know, sage Persian? He for whom Heaven keeps
+    Such festival, in Bethlehem's manger weeps.          CL.
+
+
+XCV.
+
+_Ecce quaerebamus te, &c._ Luc. ii. 49.
+
+    Te quaero misera, et quaero: tu nunc quoque tractas
+      Res Patris; Pater est unica cura tibi.
+    Quippe quod ad poenas tantum et tot nomina mortis,
+      Ad luctum et lacrymas, hei mihi! mater ego.
+
+_Lo, we have sought Thee, &c._
+
+    I seek Thee mourning, and I seek again:
+      Thou still Thy Father's business dost attend;
+    And me, alas, sad mother of all pain,
+      Of grief and tears, Thou surely wilt befriend.      G.
+
+
+XCVI.
+
+_Aquae in vinum versae._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis?
+      Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?
+    Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen:
+      Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.[60]
+
+_Water turned into wine._
+
+    Whence that blush upon thy brow,
+    Fair Nymph of the waters, now?
+    Mark the glow all rosy-red
+    Of the stream astonied.
+    All the guests in tumult rush'd:
+    The shy Nymph saw her God, and blush'd.               G.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Whence to your waters comes the glow of wine?
+      What strange new rose their mazed streams hath flush'd?
+    Haste, guests, and own your Visitant divine;
+      For the chaste Nymph hath seen her God, and blush'd. CL.
+
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+    Whence comes this rose, this ruddy colour strange?
+    What blushes new the wondering water change?
+    Mark, mark, gay guests, a present Deity!
+    The conscious water blush'd its God to see.           A.
+
+
+XCVII.
+
+_Absenti Centurionis filio Dominus absens medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Quam tacitis inopina salus illabitur alis!
+      Alis quas illi vox tua, Christe, dedit.
+    Quam longas vox ista manus habet! haec medicina
+      Absens et praesens haec medicina fuit.
+
+_The Lord at a distance heals the absent servant of the Centurion._
+
+    Safety unlook'd-for! silent 'light the wings
+    Wherewith Thy voice, O Christ, swift-healing brings:
+    Far-reaching hand Thy word has, and Thou healest
+    Absent and present, even as Thou willest.             G.
+
+
+XCVIII.
+
+_Quid timidi estis?_ Marc. iv. 40.
+
+    Tanquam illi insanus faceret sua fulmina ventus;
+      Tanquam illi scopulos norit habere fretum.
+    Vos vestri scopuli, vos estis ventus et unda:
+      Naufragium cum illo qui metuit, meruit.
+
+_Why are ye so fearful?_
+
+    As if to Him the winds their thunder threw;
+    As if to Him hard rocks the water knew.
+    Ye are your rocks, ye are your wind and wave:
+    Shiprack with Him who fear, deserve to have.          B.
+
+
+XCIX.
+
+_Nunc dimittis._ Luc. ii. 29.
+
+    Ite mei, quid enim ulterius, quid vultis, ocelli?
+      Leniter obductis ite superciliis.
+    Immo et adhuc et adhuc, iterumque iterumque videte;
+      Accipite haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Jamque ite; et tutis o vos bene claudite vallis:
+      Servate haec totis lumina luminibus.
+    Primum est, quod potui te, Christe, videre: secundum,
+      Te viso, recta jam potuisse mori.[61]
+
+_Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace._
+
+    Begone, mine eyes; what would ye see beside?
+    Go now in peace 'neath darkening brows to hide.
+    Once and again, and yet again; behold;
+    With one long gaze His beams in yours enfold.
+    Then go, and guard your treasure safe from foes,
+    And fast in yours those beams of His enclose.
+    To look on Thee, O Christ, this first have I;
+    Then, having look'd on Thee, straightway to die.     CL.
+
+
+C.
+
+_In segetem sacram._ Matt. xiii. 24.
+
+    Ecce suam implorat, demisso vertice, falcem:
+      Tu segeti falcem da, Pater alme, suam.
+    Tu falcem non das? messem tu, Christe, moraris?
+      Hoc ipsum falx est; haec mora messis erit.
+
+_Good seed in the field._
+
+    Its sickle it implores with head bow'd low;
+    Its sickle on the corn-field, Lord, bestow.
+    Refusest Thou? The harvest dost delay?
+    The sickle this--hence fuller harvest-day.            G.
+
+
+CI.
+
+_Coepit lacrymis rigare pedes ejus, et capillis extergebat._ Luc. vii.
+37.
+
+    Unda sacras sordes lambit placidissima: flavae
+      Lambit et hanc undam lucida flamma comae.
+    Illa per has sordes it purior unda; simulque
+      Ille per has lucet purior ignis aquas.
+
+_She began to wash His feet with teares, and wipe them with the haires
+of her head._
+
+    Her eyes' flood lickes His feets' faire staine;
+    Her hair's flame lickes up that againe.
+    This flame thus quencht hath brighter beames;
+    This flood thus stained fairer streames.             CR.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING.
+
+    With placid force the gentle wave
+    That consecrated dust doth lave,
+    And a bright flame of golden hair
+    Doth lave in light those waters fair.
+    Purer the trickling waters shine
+    Through contact with that dust divine;
+    And purer through the waters' flow
+    That flame of lucent fire doth glow.                CL.
+
+
+CII.
+
+_Quid vis tibi faciam?_ Luc. xviii. 41.
+
+    Quid volo, Christe, rogas? quippe ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Quippe ad te, dulcis Christe, videre volo.
+    At video, fideique oculis te nunc quoque figo:
+      Est mihi, quae nunquam est non oculata, fides.
+    Sed quamvis videam, tamen ah volo, Christe, videre:
+      Sed quoniam video, Christe, videre volo.
+
+_What seekest that I do to thee?_
+
+    Askest, O Christ, my wish? My Christ I wish to see:
+    To see Thee, O my sweet Christ, to see Thee.
+    But, lo, I see; for now on Thee I fix faith's eye,
+    And gazing so, dimness and darkness fly.
+    But though I see, yet, ah, my Christ I wish to see;
+    And since I see, O Christ, I would see Thee.          G.
+
+
+CIII.
+
+_Christus mulieri Canaaneae difficilior._ Matt. xv. 21.
+
+    Ut pretium facias dono, donare recusas:
+      Usque rogat supplex, tutamen usque negas.
+    Hoc etiam donare fuit, donare negare.
+      Saepe dedit quisquis saepe negata dedit.
+
+_The silence of Christ to the woman of Canaan._
+
+    That He a gift more precious might bestow,
+      While she implor'd, discouragements He used.
+    This was to give thus not to give; for, lo,
+      He giveth oft who gives what's oft refused.[62]     G.
+
+
+CIV.
+
+_Beatus venter et ubera, &c._ Luc. ii. 27.
+
+    Et quid si biberet Jesus vel ab ubere vestro?
+      Quid facit ad vestram, quod bibit ille, sitim?
+    Ubera mox sua et hic, o quam non lactea! pandet;
+      E nato mater tum bibet ipsa suo.
+
+_Blessed be the paps which Thou hast sucked._
+
+    Suppose He had been tabled at thy teates,
+    Thy hunger feeles not what He eates:
+    He'l have His teat ere long--a bloody one;
+    The mother then must suck the Son.                   CR.
+
+
+CV.
+
+_In Christum vitem._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Ulmum vitis amat, quippe est et in arbore flamma,
+      Quam fovet in viridi pectore blandus amor:
+    Illam ex arboribus cunctis tu, vitis, amasti;
+      Illam, quaecunque est, quae crucis arbor erat.
+
+_Christ the true Vine (including the branches)._
+
+    The vine clings lovingly unto the elm;
+    Love's flame draws thus a tree within its realm:
+    But most, O vine, thou lov'st, whate'er its name,
+    That tree from which the cross of Calvary came.       G.
+
+
+CVI.
+
+_Vos flebitis et lamentabimini._ Joan. xvi. 20.
+
+    Ergo mihi salvete mei, mea gaudia, luctus:
+      Quam charum, o Deus, est hoc mihi flere meum!
+    Flerem, ni flerem: solus tu, dulcis Jesu,
+      Laetitiam donas tunc quoque quando negas.
+
+_Verily I say unto you, Yee shall weep and lament._
+
+    Welcome, my griefe, my joy; how deare's
+    To me my legacy of teares!
+    I'll weepe and weepe, and will therefore
+    Weepe 'cause I can weepe no more.
+    Thou, Thou, deare Lord, even Thou alone,
+    Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none.              CR.
+
+
+CVII.
+
+_In gregem Christi Pastoris._ Joan. x. 11.
+
+    O grex, o nimium tanto Pastore beatus;
+      O ubi sunt tanto pascua digna grege?
+    Ne non digna forent tanto grege pascua, Christus
+      Ipse suo est Pastor, pascuum et ipse gregi.
+
+_Christ the good Shepherd._
+
+    O flock, O too much in thy Sheepherd blest,
+    Where are fields worthy thee to feed and rest?
+    Lest worthy pastures nowhere should be found,
+    Christ is to thee the Sheepherd and the ground.       B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    O flock, in your great Shepherd all too blest,
+      Where shall fit pasturage be found for you?
+    That His fair flock may ne'er want food or rest,
+      Christ is the Pastor and the pasture too.          CL.
+
+
+CVIII.
+
+_In vulnera pendentis Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 26-53.
+
+    Sive oculos, sive ora vocem tua vulnera; certe
+      Undique sunt ora, heu, undique sunt oculi.
+    Ecce ora, o nimium roseis florentia labris!
+      Ecce oculi, saevis ah madidi lacrymis!
+    Magdala, quae lacrymas solita es, quae basia sacro
+      Ferre pedi, sacro de pede sume vices.
+    Ora pedi sua sunt, tua quo tibi basia reddat:
+      Quo reddat lacrymas scilicet est oculus.[63]
+
+
+_On the wounds of the crucified Lord._
+
+    Thy wounds, O Lord, are mouths and eyes--
+    Let not the strange words breed surprise:
+    Where'er I look, wounds seem to speak;
+    Where'er I look, wounds in tears break;
+    Mouths with ruddy lips disparted,
+    Eyes as of the broken-hearted.
+    Thou, Mary, on His sacred feet
+    Rainedst thy tears and kisses sweet.
+    Now retake thy kisses, tears;
+    Cling thee there, there hush thy fears.
+    See, mouths and eyes are here also;
+    Swift they'll pay back thy loving woe.                G.
+
+
+CIX.
+
+_Paralyticus convalescens._ Marc. ii. 1-13.
+
+    Christum, quod misero facilis peccata remittit,
+      Scribae blasphemum dicere non dubitant.
+    Hoc scelus ut primum Paralyticus audiit: ira
+      Impatiens, lectum sustulit atque abiit.
+
+_The paralytic healed._
+
+    The Scribes audaciously blaspheme the Lord,
+    That He a poor man pardon'd with a word.
+    The Paralytic hears all that they say;
+    Indignant takes his bed, and walks away.              G.
+
+
+CX.
+
+_Tunc sustulerunt lapides._ Joan. viii. 59.
+
+    Saxa? illi? quid tam foedi voluere furores?
+      Quid sibi de saxis hi voluere suis?
+    Indolem, et antiqui agnosco vestigia patris:
+      Panem de saxis hi voluere suis.
+
+_Then took they up stones._
+
+    'They took up stones:' What meant they by such rage?
+      What wanted they with them? Their meaning's plain:
+    'Tis their old father's way--O sad presage!
+      He too took up the stones for bread amain.[64]      G.
+
+
+CXI.
+
+_In resurrectionem Domini._ Matt. xxviii. 6.
+
+    Nasceris, en, tecumque tuus, Rex auree, mundus,
+      Tecum[65] virgineo nascitur e tumulo.
+    Tecum in natales properat natura secundos,
+      Atque novam vitam te novus orbis habet.
+    Ex vita, Sol alme, tua vitam omnia sumunt:
+      Nil certe, nisi mors, cogitur inde mori.
+    At certe neque mors: nempe ut queat illa sepulchro,
+      Christe, tuo condi, mors volet ipsa mori.
+
+_On the Resurrection of the Lord._
+
+    Thou'rt born, and, lo, bright King, Thy world is born,
+    Is born with Thee from virgin tomb this morn.
+    Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,
+    And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.
+    Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath;
+    Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.
+    Nor is Death forced--since in Thy grave to lie,
+    Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXII.
+
+_Aliqui vero dubitabant._ Matt. xxviii. 17.
+
+    Scilicet et tellus dubitat,[66] tremebunda: sed ipsum hoc,
+      Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.
+    Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud
+      Hoc ipse dicunt,[67] dicere quod nequeunt.
+
+_But some doubted._
+
+    Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,
+    The wavering earth forbids you waver too.
+    The very keepers, if their voice you seek,
+    Though speechless, even by their silence speak.   R. WI.
+
+
+CXIII.
+
+_In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam suorum fidem._
+Joan. xx. 20.
+
+    His oculis, nec adhuc clausis coiere fenestris,
+      Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.
+    His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,
+      Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.
+
+_The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strengthening of
+His disciples' faith._
+
+    Thy love these eyes did open;
+      They're watching for us still:
+    These eyes, of love the token,
+      Our faith with love do fill.                        G.
+
+
+CXIV.
+
+_Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit._ Luc. vii. 19.
+
+    Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,
+      Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,
+    Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?
+      Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.[68]
+
+_John sends to Jesus ... saying, Art Thou He that should come? or look
+we for another?_
+
+    And dost _thou_ ask, who in thy mother's womb
+    So eager wast to hail Messiah come?
+    Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?
+    Why, even the very dumb can answer thee.             CL.
+
+
+CXV.
+
+_In Petrum auricidam._ Joan. xviii. 10.
+
+    Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,
+      Tu tibi jam pugnas, o bone, non Domino.
+    Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,
+      Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.
+
+
+_On St. Peter cutting off Malchus his eare._
+
+    Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
+    Well for thyselfe, I meane, not for thy Lord.
+    To strike at eares is to take heed there bee
+    No witnesse, Peter, of thy perjury.                  CR.
+
+
+CXVI.
+
+_Manus arefacta sanatur._ Marc. iii. 1-5.
+
+    Felix, ergo tuae spectas natalia dextrae,
+      Quae modo spectanti flebile funus erat!
+    Quae nec in externos modo dextera profuit usus,
+      Certe erit illa tuae jam manus et fidei.[69]
+
+_The withered hand healed._
+
+    O happy man, thy right-hand's birth beholding,
+    Erewhile a sad funereal sight enfolding!
+    The hand of no use, by the word Christ saith,
+    Restor'd, is now become the hand of faith.       G. & B.
+
+
+CXVII.
+
+_In Pontium male lautum._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Illa manus lavat unda tuas, vanissime judex:
+      Ah tamen illa scelus non lavat unda tuum!
+    Nulla scelus lavet unda tuum: vel si lavet ulla,
+      O volet ex oculis illa venire tuis.
+
+
+_To Pontius washing his hands._
+
+    Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt
+    That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:
+    The flood, if any can, that can suffice,
+    Must have its fountaine in thine eyes.               CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:
+    Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.
+    No water washt it out: if any will,
+    'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil.       B.
+
+
+CXVIII.
+
+_In piscem dotatum._ Matt. xvii. 27.
+
+    Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque
+      Fert pretium: tanti est vel periisse tibi.
+    Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos
+      Non opus est: ipsum se tibi piscis emet.
+
+_The stater-giving fish._
+
+    A fish Thou wishest, Lord;
+    And without e'er a word,
+    Behold, it swims to Thee,
+    Fetching its own cost, free.
+    Thou needest not to go
+    In markets to and fro;
+    Nor need'st Thou price to bring--
+    The fish owns Thee its king.                          G.
+
+
+CXIX.
+
+_Ego vici mundum._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tu contra mundum dux es meus, optime Jesu?
+      At tu, me miserum! dux meus ipse jaces.
+    Si tu, dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis?
+      Immo, ni jaceas tu, mihi nulla salus.
+
+_I have overcome the world._
+
+    Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!
+    Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.
+    And if my Captain fall, what hope have I?
+    No hope at all, unless my Captain die.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?
+    But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.
+    If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?
+    Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be.           A.
+
+
+CXX.
+
+_In ascensionem Dominicam._ Act. i. 10.
+
+    Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia coeli:
+      It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.
+    Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus
+      Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.
+    At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phoebe,
+      Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.
+    Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:
+      Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?
+
+_On the ascension of our Lord._
+
+    Through open'd depths of His own heaven He soars,
+    And from His face in heaven a new heaven pours.
+    Scatter'd before Him down the welkin sinks
+    The sun, and its own sun's near glory drinks.
+    Moon unto sun for light no more beholden,
+    Now from more lustrous sun returns all golden.
+    These triumphs o'er Thyself Thou grantest, Lord;
+    Triumphs no other could suffice to 'accord.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXI.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii.
+
+    Jam coeli circum tonuit fragor: arma minasque
+      Turbida cum flammis mista ferebat hiems.
+    Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis,
+      Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.
+    Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro,
+      Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas;
+    Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse,
+      Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.
+
+    {Ouranou ektypese bromos; polemon kai apeilas
+      Ege trechon anemos syn phlogi smerdalee.
+    Auen Ioudaios; miara stygeron ta karena
+      Ephthase tes orges to prepon ouranies.
+    Alla galenaio hote keitai hesychon astro
+      Phlegma, kai abletous leiche philon plokamous,
+    Hekthambei. hoti gar keinois ouk een alethes,
+      Nyn eteon dioti tode keraunos een.}
+
+_The descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    Booms the thunder through the sky,
+      Flash the lightnings, threats the storm;
+    Cries the Jew with vengeful eye:
+      See SIN doom'd in fitting form!
+    But, lo, the lightning, paled to light
+      Mild and calm as ev'ning's star,
+    Binds their brows with nimbus bright,
+      Playing softly i' their hair.
+    To the Jews it is not lightning,
+    Yet the more the name's enlightening.[70]             G.
+
+
+CXXII.
+
+_Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet._ Joan. iii. 16.
+
+    Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae:
+      Guttula quod faceret, cur facit oceanus?
+    Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita:
+      Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.
+
+_God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son...._
+
+    Ah, 'tis too much to give Him for our sake:
+    A drop might serve, why then an ocean take?
+    Here may my life expatiate gloriously--
+    Amply, magnificently, Death may die.              R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIII.
+
+_Juga boum emi._ Luc. xiv. 19.
+
+    Ad coenam voco te, domini quod jussa volebant;
+      Tu mihi, nescio quos, dicis, inepte, boves.
+    Imo vale, nobis nec digne nec utilis hospes;
+      Coena tuos, credo, malit habere boves.
+
+_I have bought five yoke of oxen._
+
+    I call thee to His Supper,
+              for so The Master spake:
+    Thou sayest 'No,' pretending
+              thou must thy oxen take.
+    Farewell, O thou unworthy
+              and wholly useless guest;
+    Thy oxen for the Supper
+              in truth were better prest.                 G.
+
+
+CXXIV.
+
+_D. Paulum, verbo sanantem claudum, pro Mercurio Lystres adorant._ Act.
+xiv. 8-18.
+
+    Quis Tagus hic, quae Pactoli nova volvitur unda?
+      Non hominis vox est haec: Deus ille, Deus.
+    Salve, mortales nimium dignate penates:
+      Digna Deo soboles, digna tonante Deo.
+    O salve, quid enim, alme, tuos latuisse volebas?
+      Te dicit certe vel tua lingua Deum.
+    Laudem hanc haud miror: meruit facundus haberi,
+      Qui claudo promptos suasit habere pedes.
+
+_St. Paul, healing the lame man with a word, is worshipped by the
+Lystrians as Mercury._
+
+    What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?
+    'Tis not man's voice: a God, a God behold.
+    Hail, too much honour thou to men hast done,
+    Of Jove, of thundering Jove the worthy son.
+    Hail, Lord, for why wouldst hide thee from thine own?
+    A God e'en by thy tongue assuredly art known.
+    The praise of eloquence for him was meet
+    Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet.    R. WI.
+
+
+CXXV.
+
+_In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem._
+
+    Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?
+      Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?
+    Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris,
+      Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.
+    Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat,
+      Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?
+    Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare:
+      Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.[71]
+
+    {Pe tachyergos agei pteryg' asteroessan eretmos?
+      E tini keina pherei ten poda chioneen?
+    Christe, tee kephale pasais pterygessin epeigei;
+      Pe skia toi dasiois paize mala plokamois.
+    Poia soi arrheto psithyrismati kein' agoreuei?
+      Arret', ouk eches isa men andromees.
+    Mouna men hed' ornis kalias est' axia tautes.
+      Axia d' ornithos mouna men he kalia.}
+
+_To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ._
+
+    On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?
+      Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?
+    O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head,
+      Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.
+    There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee,
+      A melody unlike all earthly sound:
+    That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee;
+      This nest alone worthy the Bird is found.           W.
+
+
+CXXVI.
+
+_In fores divo Petro sponte apertas._ Act. xii. 10.
+
+    Quid juvit clausisse fores, bone janitor, istas?
+      Et Petro claves jam liquet esse suas.
+    Dices, sponte patent: Petri ergo hoc scilicet ipsum
+      Est clavis, Petro clave quod haud opus est.
+
+_The doors of the prison self-opening to Peter._
+
+    Good jailor, how is this,
+      These doors thou lockest here?
+    That Peter has the keys
+      'Tis now to all men clear.
+    Thou say'st the doors self-open,
+      And well thou sayest indeed;
+    For by this very token
+      He no other key doth need.                          G.
+
+
+CXXVII.
+
+_Murmurabant Pharisaei, dicentes, Recipit peccatores, et comedit cum
+illis._ Luc. xv. 2.
+
+    Ah male, quisquis is est, pereat, qui scilicet istis
+      Convivam, saevus, non sinit esse suum!
+    Istis cum Christus conviva adjungitur, istis
+      O non conviva est Christus, at ipse cibus.[72]
+
+_The Pharisees murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth
+with them._
+
+    Ah, let him perish in his harsh protests
+    Who sinners checks to be the Saviour's guests!
+    Sinners do entertain Christ as a guest:
+    They spread the table, but He is the feast.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXVIII.
+
+_In trabem Pharisaicam._ Matt. vii. 3.
+
+    Cedant, quae, rerum si quid tenue atque minutum est,
+      Posse acie certa figere, vitra dabunt.
+    Artis opus mirae! Pharisaeo en optica trabs est,
+      Ipsum, vera loquor, qua videt ille nihil.
+
+
+_On the beam of the Pharisee._
+
+    Grant you can fix upon a needle's end
+    Each smallest object microscopes will lend.
+    Rare beam to look through has the Pharisee,
+    Whereby, in sooth, nothing itself sees he!        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXIX.
+
+_Constituerunt ut si quis confiteretur eum esse Christum, synagoga
+moveretur._ Joan. ix. 22.
+
+    Infelix, Christum reus es quicunque colendi;
+      O reus infelix, quam tua culpa gravis!
+    Tu summis igitur, summis damnabere coelis:
+      O reus infelix, quam tua poena gravis!
+
+_They determined that if any man should confess Him to be Christ, he
+should be put out of the synagogue._
+
+    Alas, unhappy, own the Christ thou wilt;
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful is thy guilt.
+    The gates of heaven for aye should keep thee close:
+    Unhappy culprit, fearful are thy woes.                A.
+
+
+CXXX.
+
+_De voto filiorum Zebedaei._ Matt. xx. 20.
+
+    Sit tibi, Joannes, tibi sit, Jacobe, quod optas;
+      Sit tibi dextra manus; sit tibi laeva manus.
+    Spero alia in coelo est, et non incommoda, sedes;
+      Si neque laeva manus, si neque dextra manus.
+    Coeli hanc aut illam nolo mihi quaerere partem;
+      O coelum, coelum da, Pater alme, mihi.
+
+_Concerning the prayer of the sons of Zebedee._
+
+    O brothers twain, may it be yours to fill
+    At right and left your places as ye will!
+    A seat remains, I trust--a fair one too--
+    Besides those high ones that were sought for you.
+    I pray not that to me some part be given,
+    But heaven itself, kind Father, grant me heaven.     CL.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    John and James, take your place at God's command:
+    One at the right, th' other at the left hand.
+    I ask not to be placed so, or so:
+    To heaven, to heaven, good Father, let me go.         B.
+
+
+CXXXI.
+
+_Ad hospites coenae miraculosae quinque panum._ Joan. vi. 9-13.
+
+    Vescere pane tuo, sed et, hospes, vescere Christo;
+      Et panis pani scilicet ille tuo.
+    Tunc pane hoc Christi recte satur, hospes, abibis,
+      Panem ipsum Christum si magis esurias.[73]
+
+_To the guests at the miraculous supper of the five loaves._
+
+    Feed on thy bread, on Christ too feed, O guest;
+    With Bread on bread forsooth thou shalt be blest.
+    Then shalt thou go, with Christ's bread satisfied,
+    If hungering for the living Bread beside.         R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXII.
+
+_De Christi contra mundum pugna._ Joan. xvi. 33.
+
+    Tune, miser, tu, mundus ait, mea fulmina contra
+      Ferre manus, armis cum tibi nuda manus?
+    I, lictor, manibusque audacibus injice vinc'la:
+      Injecit lictor vincula, et arma dedit.
+
+_Christ overcoming the world._
+
+    O wretched! the world mutters. I do wonder
+    Thou dar'st lift unarm'd hands against my thunder.
+    Go, tyrant; put thy chains upon these hands:
+    'Tis done; and now full-arm'd the prisoner stands.    G.
+
+
+CXXXIII.
+
+_Graeci disputatores divo Paulo mortem machinantur._ Act. ix. 29.
+
+    Euge, argumentum! sic disputat: euge, sophista!
+      Sic pugnum Logices stringere, sic decuit.
+    Hoc argumentum in causam quid, Graecule, dicit?
+      Dicit, te in causam dicere posse nihil.[74]
+
+_The Grecian disputants go about to kill St. Paul._
+
+    O noble argument, Sophister rare!
+    Thus Logic's fist to double be your care.
+    This argument, poor Greek, what does it weigh?
+    It says that you have nought at all to say.       R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXIV.
+
+_Qui maximus est inter vos, esto sicut qui minimus._ Luc. xxii. 26.
+
+    O bone, discipulus Christi vis maximus esse?
+      At vero fies hac ratione minor.
+    Hoc sanctae ambitionis iter, mihi crede, tenendum est,
+      Haec ratio: Tu, ne sis minor, esse velis.
+
+_He that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger._
+
+    The greatest of disciples wouldst thou be?
+    Whoever's so ambitious, less is he.
+    That thou mai'st not go less, to every one
+    Submit: this, this is Christ's ambition.              B.
+
+
+CXXXV.
+
+_In lacrymantem Dominum._ Luc. xix. 41.
+
+    Vobis, Judaei, vobis haec volvitur unda;
+      Quae vobis, quoniam spernitis, ignis erit.
+    Eia faces, Romane, faces! seges illa furoris,
+      Non nisi ab his undis, ignea messis erit.
+
+_He beheld the city, and wept over it._
+
+    For you, O Jews, is roll'd this tearful tide,
+    Which as a flame shall glow, since ye deride.
+    Torches, Rome's torches--those wild-waving ears
+    A fiery crop shall prove, fed by these tears.      R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVI.
+
+_Christus in Aegypto._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Hunc tu, Nile, tuis majori flumine monstra;
+      Hunc, nimis ignotum, dic caput esse tibi.
+    Jam tibi, Nile, tumes; jam te quoque multus inunda:
+      Ipse tuae jam sis laetitiae fluvius.
+
+_Christ in Egypt._
+
+    With prouder stream, Nile, show Him to thine own;
+    Call Him thy fountain-head, too little known:
+    Now swelling for thyself, thyself o'erflow;
+    And with its own joy let thy current glow.        R. WI.
+
+
+CXXXVII.
+
+_In caecos Christum confitentes, Pharisaeos abnegantes._ Matt. ix.
+27-31.
+
+    Ne mihi tu, Pharisaee ferox, tua lumina jactes:
+      En caecus! Christum caecus at ille videt.
+    Tu, Pharisaee, nequis in Christo cernere Christum:
+      Ille videt caecus; caecus es ipse videns.[75]
+
+_The blind confessing Christ, the Pharisees denying._
+
+    Cast not thine eyes on me, proud Pharisee,
+    Lo, this blind man, though blind, yet Christ can see.
+    Thou, Pharisee, canst not in Christ Christ find;
+    The blind man sees Him, and the seer's blind.      G. & B.
+
+
+CXXXVIII.
+
+_Si quis pone me veniet, tollat crucem et sequatur me._ Matt. xvi. 24.
+
+    Ergo sequor, sequor, en, quippe et mihi crux mea, Christe, est:
+      Parva quidem; sed quam non satis, ecce, rego.
+    Non rego? non parvam hanc? ideo neque parva putanda est.
+      Crux magna est, parvam non bene ferre crucem.
+
+
+_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his
+cross and follow Me._
+
+    Therefore I follow, lo, I follow on;
+      My cross is with me, yet not rightly worn.
+    It little is compar'd with Thine, I own;
+      Yet little is not being wrongly borne.              G.
+
+
+CXXXIX.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequutus est eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Quas Matthaeus opes, ad Christi jussa, reliquit;
+      Tum primum vere coepit habere suas.[76]
+    Iste malarum est usus opum bonus, unicus iste;
+      Esse malas homini, quas bene perdat, opes.
+
+_And he left all ... and followed Him._
+
+    To be rich, truly rich, Matthew did take
+    The right way, when he left all for Christ's sake.
+    This is the one good use of ill-got wealth;
+    For ill-got 'tis which, leaving, bringeth health.  B. & G.
+
+
+CXL.
+
+_Aedificatis sepulchra Prophetarum._ Matt. xxiii. 29.
+
+    Sanctorum in tumulis quid vult labor ille colendis?
+      Sanctorum mortem non sinit ille mori.
+    Vane, Prophetarum quot ponis saxa sepulchris,
+      Tot testes lapidum, queis periere, facis.
+
+
+_Ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets._
+
+    Thou trim'st a Prophet's tombe, and dost bequeath
+    The life thou took'st from him unto his death.
+    Vain man! the stones that on his tombe doe lye
+    Keepe but the score[77] of them that made him dye.   CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    What means this labour on the tombs of saints,
+      Causing their holy memory be cherish'd?
+    Vain men! each stone which consecrates their plaints
+      Doth tell us of the stones by which they perish'd.  G.
+
+
+CXLI.
+
+_In manum aridam qua Christo mota est miseratio._ Marc. iii. 3-5.
+
+    Prende, miser, Christum; et cum Christo prende salutem:
+      At manca est, dices, dextera: prende tamen.
+    Ipsum hoc, in Christum, manus est: hoc prendere Christum est,
+      Qua Christum prendas, non habuisse manum.
+
+_The man with the withered hand, who excited Christ's compassion._
+
+    Take hold of Christ, O wretched one,
+    And with Christ take salvation.
+    But thy right hand, thou say'st, is dead;
+    Yet take thee hold: His word is said.
+    Take hold of Christ e'en without hand;
+    Then safe in Christ, and well, thou'lt stand:
+    Take hold of Christ in simple faith;
+    This will be hand to thee, He saith.                  G.
+
+
+CXLII.
+
+_Ad D. Lucam medicum._ Coloss. iv. 14.
+
+    Nulla mihi, Luca, de te medicamina posco,
+      Ipse licet medicus sis, licet aeger ego:
+    Quippe ego in exemplum fidei dum te mihi pono,
+      Tu, medice, ipse mihi es tu medicina mea.
+
+    {Ouden ego, Louka, para sou moi pharmakon aito,
+      Kan sy d' iatros ees, kan men ego noseros.
+    All' en hoso paradeigma peleis moi pistios, autos,
+      Autos iatros emoi g' essi akestorie.}
+
+_Luke the beloved physician._
+
+    No medicine of thee, O Luke, I seek,
+    Though thou art a physician, and I sick:
+    Th' example of thy faith before my eyen,
+    To me, physician, is the medicine.                    B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+_To St. Luke as a physician._
+
+    No medicine will I crave, Saint Luke, of thee,
+    Though I be sick, though thou physician be:
+    Pattern of faith, I plant thee in my soul,
+    And thou thyself the medicine makest me whole.        A.
+
+
+CXLIII.
+
+_Hydropicus sanatus, Christum jam sitiens._ Luc. xiv. 4.
+
+    Pellitur inde sitis, sed et hinc sitis altera surgit;
+      Hinc sitit ille magis, quo sitit inde minus.
+    Felix o, et mortem poterit qui temnere morbus;
+      Cui vitae ex ipso fonte sititur aqua.
+
+_The dropsical man thirsting now for Christ._
+
+    Thy dropsy's quench'd, but other thirst now rises,
+      Which craves the more, the less the former thirsts.
+    O happy malady, which death despises:
+      Thirst for the stream which from life's fountain bursts. G.
+
+
+CXLIV.
+
+_In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum._
+
+    Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus
+      Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:
+    Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,
+      Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.
+    O ver, o longae semper seges aurea lucis;
+      Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;
+    O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;
+      O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;
+    Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;
+      Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos--quid ago?
+
+_To the assembly of all the Saints._
+
+    Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,
+    Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:
+    Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,
+    Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.
+    O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;
+    Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;
+    The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,
+    The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;
+    The regions of unfading peace ye see,
+    And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me![78]  W.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt
+    Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.
+    Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,
+    And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.
+    O ever-ripening harvest of long light;
+    O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;
+    O hands with laughing palms, O crowned brows;
+    O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!
+    The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see--
+    The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea--woe is me!           A.
+
+
+CXLV.
+
+_Christus absenti medetur._ Matt. viii. 13.
+
+    Vox jam missa suas potuit jam tangere metas?
+      O superi, non hoc ire sed isse fuit.
+    Mirac'lum fuit ipsa salus, bene credere possis,
+      Ipsum, mirac'lum est, quando salutis iter.
+
+
+_Christ heals in absence._
+
+    Came, then, His voice with power, Himself unseen?
+    Heavens! this, though not to go, was to have been.
+    The cure miraculous we can credit well,
+    When the mere going was a miracle.                   CL.
+
+
+CXLVI.
+
+_Caecus natus._ Joan. ix. 1, 2.
+
+    Felix, qui potuit tantae post nubila noctis,
+      O dignum tanta nocte, videre diem:
+    Felix ille oculus, felix utrinque putandus,
+      Quod videt, et primum quod videt ille Deum.
+
+_The man born blind._
+
+    Happy the man who was endu'd with sight,
+    And saw a day well worth so long a night:
+    Happy the eye, twice happy is the eye,
+    That sees, and at first look, a Deity.                B.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Thrice-happy eye, that after such dark night--
+    Day worthy night so dark--couldst see the light:
+    O happy eye, eye thrice and four times blest,
+    At once to ope, and upon God to rest.                 A.
+
+
+CXLVII.
+
+_Et ridebant illum._ Matt. ix. 24.
+
+    Luctibus in tantis, Christum ridere vacabat?
+      Vanior iste fuit risus, an iste dolor?
+    Luctibus in tantis hic vester risus inepti,
+      Credite mi, meruit maximus esse dolor.
+
+_And they laughed at Him._
+
+    Laughter at Christ the Saviour--
+            Laughter 'mid falling tears!
+    O, which show'd greater folly,
+            Vain laughter or vain fears?
+    Such laughter 'mid such sorrow,
+            O fools, ye may believe:
+    Such laughter in such Presence
+            Gave greatest cause to grieve.                G.
+
+
+CXLVIII.
+
+_In sapientiam seculi._ Matt. xi. 25.
+
+    Noli altum sapere, hoc veteres voluere magistri,
+      Ne retrahat lassos alta ruina gradus.
+    Immo mihi dico, Noli sapuisse profundum:
+      Non ego ad infernum me sapuisse velim.
+
+_The wisdom of the world._
+
+    'Aim not at things too high,' 'twas said of old,
+    'Lest ruin thence o'ertake thee, over-bold.'
+    For me to dive too deep I think not well:
+    I would not have my knowledge deep as hell.          CL.
+
+
+CXLIX.
+
+_In stabulum ubi natus est Dominus._
+
+    Illa domus stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est:
+      Illa domus, qua tu nasceris, est stabulum?
+    Illa domus toto domus est pulcherrima mundo;
+      Vix coelo dici vult minor illa tuo.[79]
+    Cernis ut illa suo passim domus ardeat auro?
+      Cernis ut effusis rideat illa rosis?
+    Sive aurum non est, nec quae rosa rideat illic;
+      Ex oculis facile est esse probare tuis.
+
+    {Oikos hod' est' aule? ou me. teos oikos, Iesou,
+      En th' o ty tikte aulion ou peletai.
+    Oikon men panton mala de kallistos ekeinos;
+      Ouranou oude teou mikroteros peletai.
+    Enide keino neo dom' empyrizeto chryso,
+      Enide keino neois doma rhodoisi gela.
+    En rhodon ouchi gela, en oude te chrysos ekeithen;
+      Ek sou d' ophthalmon estin elenchemenai.}
+
+_On the stable where our Lord was born._
+
+    That house a stable? nay, bright Infant, nay:
+    Where Thou art born--a stable do we say?
+    Of mansions in this world fairest of all,
+    That house but little less than heaven we call.
+    Seest thou that house with golden splendour flush?
+    Seest thou that house with scatter'd roses blush?
+    There is no gold, no rose there laughing lies:
+    It is the light that falls from His fair eyes.        A.
+
+
+CL.
+
+_S. Stephanus amicis suis, funus sibi curantibus._ Act. vii. 57-60.
+
+    Nulla, precor, busto surgant mihi marmora: bustum
+      Haec mihi sint mortis conscia saxa meae.
+    Sic nec opus fuerit, notet ut quis carmine bustum,
+      Pro Domino, dicens, occidit ille suo.
+    Hic mihi sit tumulus, quem mors dedit ipsa; meique
+      Ipse hic martyrii sit mihi martyrium.
+
+_St. Stephen to his friends, to raise no monument._
+
+    I pray you, raise, my friends, no tomb for me,
+    But let these conscious stones my record be;
+    Nor will there then be need of verse to tell
+    That here for his dear Lord a martyr fell.
+    That which brought death, a tomb shall also bring,
+    And be the witness of my witnessing.                CL.
+
+
+CLI.
+
+_In D. Joannem, quem Domitianus ferventi oleo illaesum indidit._
+
+    Illum qui, toto currens vaga flammula mundo,
+      Non quidem Joannes, ipse sed audit amor--
+    Illum ignem extingui, bone Domitiane, laboras?
+      Hoc non est oleum, Domitiane, dare.[80]
+
+_On St. John, whom Domitian cast into a caldron of boiling oil, he
+unhurt._
+
+    That fire--which o'er the world a wandering flame,
+    Bears not the name of John, but Love's own name--
+    To quench, my good Domitian, dost thou toil?
+    Fire scarce is quench'd, methinks, by adding oil.    CL.
+
+
+CLII.
+
+_In tenellos martyres._
+
+    Ah, qui tam propero cecidit sic funere, vitae
+      Hoc habuit tantum, possit ut ille mori.
+    At cujus Deus est sic usus funere, mortis
+      Hoc tantum, ut possit vivere semper, habet.
+
+_The infant-martyrs._
+
+    Fallen, alas, in life's most tender dawn,
+      With only so much life as die they may.
+    But they 'gainst whom Death's arrows thus are drawn,
+      Only taste death that they may live for aye.        G.
+
+
+CLIII.
+
+_Attulerunt ei omnes male affectos daemoniacos, lunaticos: et sanavit
+eos._ Matt. iv. 24.
+
+    Collige te tibi, torve Draco, furiasque facesque,
+      Quasque vocant pestes nox Erebusque suas:
+    Fac colubros jam tota suos tua vibret Erinnys;
+      Collige, collige te fortiter, ut pereas.
+
+_They brought unto Him all sick people that were taken with divers
+diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and
+those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and He healed
+them._
+
+    Gather thy powers, grim Dragon, furies, flames,
+    All plagues which Erebus or midnight claims,
+    Bid each Erinnys high her serpents flourish;
+    Bring all, bring all, that thou mayst wholly perish.[81]  R. WI.
+
+
+CLIV.
+
+_Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius._ Luc. ii. 35.
+
+    Quando habeat gladium tua, Christe, tragoedia nullum,
+      Quis fuerit gladius, Virgo beata, tuus?
+    Namque nec ulla alias tibi sunt data vulnera, Virgo,
+      Quam quae a vulneribus sunt data, Christe, tuis.
+    Forsan quando senex jam caligantior esset,
+      Quod Simeon gladium credidit, hasta fuit.
+    Immo neque hasta fuit, neque clavus, sed neque spina:
+      Hei mihi, spina tamen, clavus et hasta fuit.
+    Nam queiscunque malis tua, Christe, tragoedia crevit,
+      Omnia sunt gladius, Virgo beata, tuus.
+
+_A sword shall pierce through thy own soul._
+
+    Since in the tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou,
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not any wounds are given,
+    Save as her Son is riven:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Perchance the dim-ey'd seer
+    By sword intended spear:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    Whence, then, shall come the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    Not spear or nail or thorn,
+    Yet by all these I'm torn:
+    No sword, O Christ, hast Thou;
+    O whence, then, comes the blow
+                  To Mary, virgin-mother?
+
+    In the dread tragedy
+    Wrought upon Calvary,
+    Whate'er, O suff'ring Lord,
+    Smote Thee, pierc'd as a sword
+                  Mary, the virgin-mother.                G.
+
+
+CLV.
+
+_In sanguinem circumcisionis dominicae. Ad convivas, quos haec dies apud
+nos solennes habet._
+
+    Heus, conviva! bibin'? Maria haec, Mariaeque puellus,
+      Mittunt de prelo musta bibenda suo.
+    Una quidem est, toti quae par tamen unica mundo,
+      Unica gutta, suo quae tremit orbiculo.
+    O bibite hinc; quale aut quantum vos cunque bibistis,
+      Credite mi, nil tam suave bibistis adhuc.
+    O bibite et bibite, et restat tamen usque bibendum:
+      Restat, quod poterit nulla domare sitis.
+    Scilicet hic, mensura sitis, mensura bibendi est:
+      Haec quantum cupias vina bibisse, bibis.
+
+_On the blood of the Lord's circumcision._
+
+    Ah, friend, wilt drink? Mary and her Babe divine
+    Send from their press, for drinking, this new wine.
+    One drop, yet this round world in worth resembling,
+    A single drop in tiny circlet trembling.
+    Drink hence; whate'er ye've drunk, how much soever,
+    Trust me, such pleasant drink ye've met with never.
+    Drink, drink again; to drink is left for you--
+    Is left what mortal thirst can ne'er subdue.
+    Thirst's limit here will drinking's bound define:
+    You drink all that you would drink of this wine.  R. WI.
+
+
+CLVI.
+
+_Puer Jesus inter doctores._ Luc. ii. 46.
+
+    Fallitur, ad mentum qui pendit quemque profundum,
+      Ceu possint laeves nil sapuisse genae.
+    Scilicet e barba male mensuratur Apollo;
+      Et bene cum capitis stat nive, mentis hyems.
+    Discat, et a tenero disci quoque posse magistro,
+      Canitiem capitis nec putet esse caput.
+
+_The Child Jesus among the doctors._
+
+    To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain,
+    As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain.
+    Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit;
+    With mental winter snowy head may fit.
+    Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall,
+    Nor think a hoary head the head of all.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLVII.
+
+_Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa._ Joan. ii. 1-11.
+
+    Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis:
+      In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas.
+    Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens,
+      Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas.
+
+_To our Lord, upon the water made wine._
+
+    Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life;
+      Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne,
+    Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife,
+      And so turnes wine to water backe againe.          CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Blessing's in Thy every sign,
+      But the Tempter each pollutes:
+    Thou the water makest wine,
+      He the wine to woe transmutes.                      G.
+
+
+CLVIII.
+
+_Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo._ Luc. ii. 22-33.
+
+    Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco;
+      Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat.
+    Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum,
+      Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat.
+    Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae
+      Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu.
+    Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore,
+      Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis.
+    Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso
+      Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus.
+
+_The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple._
+
+    Let the lamb go, by horned sire to play;
+    The turtle, with its mate, flee far away:
+    No need is here of lamb to mediate,
+    Or tender bird to bear another's fate.
+    At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd,
+    Receiv'd by One who much allowance made.
+    This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake,
+    'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.'
+    A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear
+    Being fit for God, since God Himself is here.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLIX.
+
+_Leprosus Dominum implorans._ Matt. viii. 2.
+
+    Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo,
+      Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles.
+    Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus;
+      Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.[82]
+
+_The leper beseeching._
+
+    I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing,
+      And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able.
+    Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling,
+      Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable.     G.
+
+
+CLX.
+
+_Christus in tempestate._ Matt. viii. 23-27.
+
+    Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu,
+      Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est.
+    Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore,
+      Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos.
+
+_Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?_
+
+              As if the storme meant Him,
+              Or 'cause Heaven's face is dim,
+                  His needs a cloud.
+              Was ever froward wind
+              That could be so unkind,
+                  Or wave so proud?
+    The wind had need be angry, and the water black,
+    That to the mighty Neptune's Self dare threaten wrack.
+              There is no storm but this
+              Of your own cowardise
+                  That braves you out;
+              You are the storme that mocks
+              Yourselves; you are the rocks
+                  Of your owne doubt:
+    Besides this feare of danger there's no danger here,
+    And he that here feares danger does deserve his feare. CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    That the Sea with such violence falls on,
+    'Tis not his malice, but ambition:
+    This the ambition, this the loud request,
+    At Thy command, O Christ, to take his rest.           B.
+
+
+CLXI.
+
+_Annunciant ritus, quos non licet nobis suscipere, cum simus Romani._
+Act. xvi. 21.
+
+    Hoc Caesar tibi, Roma, tuus dedit, armaque? solis
+      Romanis igitur non licet esse piis?
+    Ah, melius, tragicis nullus tibi Caesar in armis
+      Altus anhelanti detonuisset equo;
+    Nec domini volucris facies horrenda per orbem
+      Sueta tibi in signis torva venire tuis:
+    Quam miser ut staret de te tibi, Roma, triumphus,
+      Ut tanta fieres ambitione nihil.
+    Non tibi, sed sceleri vincis: proh laurea tristis,
+      Laurea, Cerbereis aptior umbra comis.
+    Tam turpi vix ipse pater diademate Pluto,
+      Vix sedet ipse suo tam niger in solio.
+    De tot Caesareis redit hoc tibi, Roma, triumphis:
+      Caesaree, aut, quod idem est, egregie misera es.
+
+_They teach customs which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to
+observe, being Romans._
+
+    Rome, have thy Caesar's arms wrought this for thee,
+    That Romans only may not Christians be?
+    Better for thee no Caesar had waged war,
+    High-thundering on his fiery steed afar;
+    Nor eagle's lordly form o'er all the world
+    Had aye on thy stern ensigns been unfurl'd.
+    How poor a triumph, Rome, o'er thyself wrought,
+    By dint of such ambition to be--nought!
+    Conquering for sin, not Rome; sad laurel-wreath,
+    More fit to shadow Cerberus' locks beneath.
+    Old Pluto scarce wears diadem so base,
+    Sits scarce so swart enthron'd in his own place.
+    Caesarean triumphs, Rome, win this for thee--
+    Caesarean, that is, highest misery.                R. WI.
+
+
+CLXII.
+
+_Hic lapis fiat panis._ Matt. iv. 3.
+
+    Et fuit ille lapis, quidni sit dicere? panis,
+      Christe, fuit: panis sed tuus ille fuit.
+    Quippe Patris cum sic tulerit suprema voluntas,
+      Est panis, panem non habuisse, tuus.
+
+    {Artos een toi det', eipein themis estin, ekeinos,
+      Christe, toi artos een kai lithos, alla teos.
+    En hou tos tou patros ee megalou to thelema,
+      Artos hot' ouk en toi, Christe, toi artos een.}
+
+_Command that this stone become a loaf._
+
+    And so it was; bread was that stone;
+    Such bread, Christ, as was all Thine own.
+    Since God so will'd that it should be,
+    To have no bread was bread to Thee.                   G.
+
+
+CLXIII.
+
+_Mulier Canaanitis._ Matt. xv. 22.
+
+    Quicquid Amazoniis dedit olim fama puellis,
+      Credite: Amazoniam cernimus, ecce, fidem.
+    Foemina, tam fortis fidei? jam credo fidem esse
+      Plus quam grammatice foeminei generis.
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Whate'er Fame tells of Amazons of old,
+    Believe: here Amazonian faith behold.
+    Of such strong faith a woman? Faith I see
+    More than in grammar feminine to be.              R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIV.
+
+_Deus, post expulsum daemonem mutum, maledicis Judaeis os obturat._ Luc.
+xi. 14.
+
+    Una pene opera duplicem tibi daemona frangis:
+      Iste quidem daemon mutus; at ille loquax.
+    Scilicet in laudes, quae non tibi laurea surgit?
+      Non magis hic loquitur, quam tacet ille tuas.
+
+_Upon the dumbe devill cast out, and the slanderous Jewes put to
+silence._
+
+    Two devills at one blow Thou hast laid flat;
+    A speaking devill this, a dumbe one that.
+    Was't Thy full victorie's fairer increase,
+    That th' one spake, or that th' other held his peace? CR.
+
+
+CLXV.
+
+_Dicebant, Vere hic est Propheta._ Joan. vi. 14.
+
+    Post tot quae videant, tot quae miracula tangant,
+      Haec et quae gustent, Christe, dabas populo:
+    Jam Vates, Rex, et quicquid pia nomina possunt,
+      Christus erat: vellem dicere, venter erat.
+    Namque his, quicquid erat Christus, de ventre repleto
+      Omne illud vero nomine venter erat.
+
+_They said, This is of a truth that Prophet._
+
+    When Christ had given the multitude so much,
+    So many miracles to see, taste, touch;
+    Now Prophet, King, the holiest name Heaven wishes,
+    Was Christ: I'd rather call it 'Loaves and fishes.'
+    Whate'er Christ was, to their stay'd appetite
+    'Twas all more truly 'Loaves and fishes' dight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVI.
+
+_Christus ambulabat in porticu Salomonis, et hyems erat._ Joan. x. 22.
+
+    Bruma fuit? non, non; ah, non fuit ore sub isto:
+      Si fuit, haud anni, nec sua bruma fuit.
+    Bruma tibi vernis velit ire decentior horis,
+      Per sibi non natas expatiata rosas.
+    At tibi ne possit se tam bene bruma negare,
+      Sola haec, quam vibrat gens tua, grando[83] vetat.
+
+_It was winter, and Jesus walked in Solomon's porch._
+
+    Was't winter? No, O no; beneath that Face:
+    At least no natural winter there found place.
+    Winter for Thee would breathe Spring's beauteous hours,
+    With roses crowd its unaccustom'd bowers.
+    But lest so sweetly Winter should retire,
+    Lo, this hail hinders, hurl'd by Jewish ire.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVII.
+
+_Dederunt nummos militibus._ Matt. xxviii. 12.
+
+    Ne miles velit ista loqui, tu munera donas?
+      Donas, quod possit, cum tacet ipse, loqui.
+    Quae facis a quoquam, pretio suadente, taceri;
+      Clarius, et dici turpius ista facis.
+
+_They gave large money to the soldiers._
+
+    The soldiers' silence is't with money bought?
+    Thy gift will tell a tale, though they say nought.
+    Whatever with a bribe thou fain wouldst hide,
+    More shamefully thou spreadest far and wide.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXVIII.
+
+_Beatae Virgini: de salutatione angelica._ Luc. i. 26-28.
+
+    {Chaire} suum neque Caesareus jam nuntiet ales;
+      {Chaire} tuum penna candidiore venit.
+    Sed taceat, qui {chaire} tuum quoque nuntiat, ales;
+      {Chaire} meum penna candidiore venit.
+    Quis dicat mihi {chaire} meum mage candidus autor,
+      Quam tibi quae dicat candidus ille tuum?
+    Virgo, rogas, quid candidius quam candidus ille
+      Esse potest? Virgo, quae rogat, esse potest.
+    {Chaire} tuum, Virgo, donet tibi candidus ille;
+      Donas candidior tu mihi {chaire} meum.
+    {Chaire} meum de {chaire} tuo quid differat, audi:
+      Ille tuum dicit, tu paris, ecce, meum.
+
+_To the blessed Virgin: concerning the angelic salutation._
+
+    Its 'hail' Caesarean eagle need not bring;
+    Thy 'hail' comes wafted on a whiter wing.
+    But let the 'all-hail' angel e'en be still;
+    My 'hail' comes flitting on a whiter quill.
+    To say my 'hail' what whiter being can be
+    Than that white being who utters thine to thee?
+    Virgin, dost ask what whiter than that white
+    Might be? The Virgin who is asking, might.
+    That white one, Virgin, may give 'hail' to thee;
+    But thou, more white, dost give my 'hail' to me.
+    My 'hail' o'er thy 'hail,' wouldst thou know its worth;
+    He utters thine, but mine thou bringest forth.    R. WI.
+
+
+CLXIX.
+
+_Pontio lavanti._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
+
+    Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,
+      Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?
+    Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis
+      Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.
+    Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,
+      Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.
+    Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:
+      Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.
+
+_To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands._
+
+    Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape
+                      That thou need'st heape
+    A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch
+      Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,
+    She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;
+      Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
+    The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine
+    As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.
+
+    See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares
+                      Nothing but teares:
+    Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.
+      Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;
+    Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,
+      And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.
+    Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree
+    What water shal wash this when this hath washed thee. CR.
+
+
+CLXX.
+
+_In die passionis dominicae._
+
+    Tamne ego sim tetricus? valeant jejunia: vinum
+      Est mihi dulce meo, nec pudet esse, cado.
+    Est mihi quod castis, neque prelum passa, racemis
+      Palmite virgineo protulit uva parens.
+    Hoc mihi, ter denis sat enim maturuit annis,
+      Tandem, ecce, e dolio praebibit hasta suo.
+    Jamque it; et o quanto calet actus aromate torrens,
+      Acer ut hinc aura divite currit odor!
+    Quae rosa per cyathos volitat tam vina Falernos?
+      Massica quae tanto sidere vina tremunt?
+    O ego nescibam; atque ecce est vinum illud amoris,
+      Unde ego sim tantis, unde ego par cyathis.
+    Vincor: et o istis totus prope misceor auris:
+      Non ego sum tantis, non ego par cyathis.
+    Sed quid ego invicti metuo bona robora vini?
+      Ecce est, quae validum diluit[84] unda merum.
+
+_On the day of the Lord's Passion._
+
+    Should I be dull? Fastings farewell! Sweet wine
+    I have--nor am asham'd--in cask of mine,
+    Which the full grape, unprest, from virgin shoot
+    Produced for me in purest cluster'd fruit.
+    This wine, now mellow'd by the thirtieth year,
+    Lo, from the 'wood' will pour at touch of spear.
+    It pours, and O how sweet the torrent glows,
+    How sharp an odour on the rich air flows!
+    What bouquet thus breathes from Falernian jars?
+    What Massic wines tremble beneath such stars?
+    O, I knew not; and, lo, this is Love's wine,
+    Whence I such draughts, e'en I, need not decline.
+    Vanquish'd, I wholly faint these airs along;
+    I am no match, not I, for draughts so strong.
+    But wherefore fear I their blest strength divine?
+    Behold the water mingled with the wine!           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXI.
+
+_In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena ferens
+aromata._
+
+    Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phoenicis adora;
+      Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.
+    Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;
+      Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.
+    Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:
+      Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.
+    Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:
+      Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.
+    His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,
+      Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.
+    Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,
+      Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.
+    Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari
+      Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.
+
+_On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing spices
+cometh to the sepulchre._ Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.
+
+    Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phoenix' tomb;
+    Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.
+    With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen--
+    Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;
+    But these--no herbs nor spices equal them--
+    These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.
+    One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,
+    Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.
+    With these--her Lord's head in amomum laid--
+    The humble feet the head's despair she made.
+    Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,
+    She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.
+    Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too
+    Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew.           A.
+
+
+CLXXII.
+
+_In cicatrices Domini adhuc superstites._ Luc. xxiv. 31.
+
+    Arma vides; arcus, pharetramque levesque sagittas,
+      Et quocunque fuit nomine miles Amor.
+    His fuit usus Amor: sed et haec fuit ipse; suumque
+      Et jaculum, et jaculis ipse pharetra suis.
+    Nunc splendent tantum, et deterso pulvere belli
+      E memori pendent nomina magna tholo.
+    Tempus erit tamen, haec irae quando arma pharetramque,
+      Et sobolem pharetrae spicula tradet Amor.
+    Heu, qua tunc anima, quo stabit conscia vultu,
+      Quum scelus agnoscet dextera quaeque suum?
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles,
+      Qua tibi cunque tuus luserit arte furor.
+    Seu digito suadente tuo mala laurus inibat
+      Temporibus; sacrum seu bibit hasta latus:
+    Sive tuo clavi saevum rubuere sub ictu;
+      Seu puduit jussis ire flagella tuis.
+    Improbe, quae dederis, cernes ibi vulnera, miles:
+      Quod dederis vulnus, cernere, vulnus erit.
+    Plaga sui vindex clavosque rependet et hastam:
+      Quoque rependet, erit clavus et hasta sibi.
+    Quis tam terribiles, tam justas moverit iras?
+      Vulnera pugnabunt, Christe, vel ipsa tibi.
+
+_On the scars of the Lord still remaining._
+
+    Arms see--bows, quiver, arrows flying far,
+    And every style in which Love went to war.
+    These arms Love used--nay, Himself was: His own
+    Dart and darts' quiver was Himself alone.
+    Now they but shine, and, dusty battle ended,
+    In treasur'd glory are on high suspended.
+    Time comes when unto Wrath these arms, both quiver
+    And quiver's offspring, darts, Love will deliver.
+    Ah, with what thoughts, what countenance wilt thou stand
+    When its own guilt comes home to each right hand?
+    Wretch, thou wilt see the wounds which thou hast made,
+    And with what fatal skill thy fury play'd:
+    Whether with bloody wreath thy fingers plied
+    His temples, or thy spear drank His dear side;
+    Or 'neath thy blow nails turned a cruel red,
+    Or the scourge blush'd as at thy call it sped.
+    Wretch, there the wounds thou gavest thou shalt see:
+    To see the wound thou gav'st a wound shall be.
+    Stroke self-avenging follows nails and spear:
+    Its nail and spear of recompense are here.
+    Such awful righteous wrath who would excite?
+    Thy very wounds, O Christ, for Thee will fight.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIII.
+
+_Pacem meam do vobis._ Joan. xiv. 27.
+
+    Bella vocant: arma, o socii, nostra arma paremus
+      Atque enses: nostros scilicet, ah, jugulos.
+    Cur ego bella paro, cum Christus det mihi pacem?
+      Quod Christus pacem dat mihi, bella paro.
+    Ille dedit, nam quis potuit dare certior autor?
+      Ille dedit pacem: sed dedit ille suam.
+
+_My peace I give unto you._
+
+    War calls: O friends, our arms let us prepare,
+    And swords; forsooth, our throats let us lay bare.
+    Why war prepare, if Christ His peace afford?
+    Because Christ gives me peace, I take the sword.
+    He gave--what surer giver can be shown?
+    He gave the peace, but then He gave His own.      R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIV.
+
+_In D. Paulum illuminatum simul et excaecatum._ Act. ix. 8, 9.
+
+    Quae, Christe, ambigua haec bifidi tibi gloria teli est,
+      Quod simul huic oculos abstulit atque dedit?
+    Sancta dies animi, hac oculorum in nocte, latebat;
+      Te ut possit Paulus cernere, caecus erat.
+
+_Paul's conversion and blindness._
+
+    Why, Lord, this twofold glory of Thy ray,
+    Giving him sight whose sight it takes away?
+    Paul in that night God's inner light shall find:
+    That he may see The Christ his eyes are blind.       CL.
+
+
+CLXXV.
+
+_Ego sum Via. Ad Judaeos spretores Christi._ Joan. xiv. 6.
+
+    O sed nec calcanda tamen: pes improbe, pergis?
+      Improbe pes, ergo hoc coeli erat ire viam?
+    Ah pereat, Judaec ferox, pes improbus ille,
+      Qui coeli tritam sic facit esse viam.
+
+_I am the Way. To the Jewish despisers of Christ._
+
+    Not to be trampled on, though: vile foot, stay;
+    Vile foot, is this to tread the heavenly Way?
+    Let that fierce Jewish foot to death be given,
+    Which thus wears out the blessed Way to heaven.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVI.
+
+_In nocturnum et hyemale iter infantis Domini._ Matt. ii. 19-21.
+
+    Ergo viatores teneros, cum Prole parentem,
+      Nox habet hos, queis est digna nec ulla dies.
+    Nam quid ad haec Pueri vel labra genasve parentis?
+      Heu, quid ad haec facient oscula, nox et hyems!
+    Lilia ad haec facerent, faceret rosa; quicquid et halat
+      Aeterna Zephyrus qui tepet in viola.
+    Hi meruere, quibus vel nox sit nulla; vel ulla
+      Si sit, eat nostra purius illa die.
+    Ecce sed hos quoque nox et hyems clausere tenellos:
+      Et quis scit, quid nox, quid meditetur hyems?
+    Ah, ne quid meditetur hyems saevire per Austros,
+      Quaeque solet nigros nox mala ferre metus!
+    Ah, ne noctis eat currus non mollibus Euris,
+      Aspera ne tetricos nuntiet aura Notos!
+    Heu, quot habent tenebrae, quot vera pericula secum,
+      Quot noctem dominam quantaque monstra colunt!
+    Quot vaga quae falsis veniunt ludibria formis!
+      Trux oculus, Stygio concolor ala Deo!
+    Seu veris ea, sive vagis stant monstra figuris;
+      Virginei satis est hinc, satis inde metus.
+    Ergo veni; totoque veni resonantior arcu,
+      Cynthia, praegnantem clange procul pharetram.
+    Monstra vel ista vel illa, tuis sint meta sagittis:
+      Nec fratris jaculum certior aura vehat.
+    Ergo veni, totoque veni, flagrantior ore,
+      Dignaque Apollineas sustinuisse vices.
+    Scis bene quid deceat Phoebi lucere sororem:
+      Ex his, si nescis, Cynthia, disce genis.
+    O tua, in his, quanto lampas formosior iret!
+      Nox suam, ab his, quanto malit habere diem!
+    Quantum ageret tacitos haec luna modestior ignes,
+      Atque verecundis sobria staret equis!
+    Luna, tuae non est rosa tam pudibunda diei,
+      Nec tam Virgineo fax tua flore tremit.
+    Ergo veni; sed et astra, tuas age, Cynthia, turmas:
+      Illa oculos pueri, quos imitentur, habent.
+    Hinc oculo, hinc astro: at parili face nictat utrumque;
+      Aetheris os, atque os aethereum Pueri.
+    Aspice, quam bene res utriusque deceret utrumque!
+      Quam bene in alternas mutua regna manus!
+    Ille oculus coeli hoc si staret in aethere frontis;
+      Sive astrum hoc Pueri fronte sub aetherea.
+    Si Pueri hoc astrum aetherea sub fronte micaret,
+      Credat et hunc oculum non minus esse suum.
+    Ille oculus coeli, hoc si staret in aethere frontis,
+      Non minus in coelis se putet esse suis.
+    Tam pulchras variare vices cum fronte Puelli,
+      Cumque Puelli oculis aether et astra queant.
+    Astra quidem vellent; vellent aeterna pacisci
+      Foedera mutatae sedis inire vicem.
+    Aether et ipse, licet numero tam dispare, vellet
+      Mutatis oculis tam bona pacta dari.
+    Quippe iret coelum quanto melioribus astris,
+      Astra sua hos oculos si modo habere queat!
+    Quippe astra in coelo quantum meliore micarent,
+      Si frontem hanc possint coelum habuisse suum.
+    Aether et astra velint: frustra velit aether et astra:
+      Ecce negat Pueri frons, oculique negant.
+    Ah, neget illa, negent illi: nam quem aethera mallent
+      Isti oculi? aut frons haec quae magis astra velit?
+    Quid si aliquod blanda face lene renideat astrum?
+      Lactea si coeli terque quaterque via est?
+    Blandior hic oculus, roseo hoc qui ridet in ore;
+      Lactea frons haec est terque quaterque magis.
+    Ergo negent, coelumque suum sua sidera servent:
+      Sidera de coelis non bene danda suis.
+    Ergo negant: seque ecce sua sub nube recondunt,
+      Sub tenera occidui nube supercilii:
+    Nec claudi contenta sui munimine coeli,
+      Quaerunt in gremio matris ubi lateant.
+    Non nisi sic tactis ubi nix tepet illa pruinis,
+      Castaque non gelido frigore vernat hyems.
+    Scilicet iste dies tam pulchro vespere tingi
+      Dignus; et hos soles sic decet occidere.
+    Claudat purpureus qui claudit vesper Olympum;
+      Puniceo placeas tu tibi, Phoebe, toro;
+    Dum tibi lascivam Thetis auget adultera noctem,
+      Pone per Hesperias strata pudenda rosas.
+    Illas nempe rosas, quas conscia purpura pinxit;
+      Culpa pudorque suus queis dedit esse rosas.
+    Hos soles, niveae noctes, castumque cubile,
+      Quod purum sternet per mare virgo Thetis;
+    Hos, sancti flores; hos, tam sincera decebant
+      Lilia; quaeque sibi non rubuere rosae.
+    Hos, decuit sinus hic; ubi toto sidere proni
+      Ecce lavant sese lacteo in oceano.
+    Atque lavent: tandemque suo se mane resolvant,
+      Ipsa dies ex hoc ut bibat ore diem.
+
+_On the night and winter journey of the Infant Lord._
+
+    These tender travellers, feel they Night's dark sway,
+    Mother and Child, too good for whitest day?
+    For how will mother's cheeks, or lips of Child,
+    How kisses fare, from Night and Winter wild?
+    With lilies these, with roses, should be blest,
+    Or sweetest breath of violet-perfum'd West.
+    Such travellers merited to have no night,
+    Or, if at all, one whiter than our light.
+    Winter and Night these tender ones enclose,
+    And what Night plots, or Winter, ah, who knows?
+    Ah, lest fell Winter with its north-winds rage,
+    Ill-omen'd Night its wonted fears engage.
+    Ah, lest rough east-winds should Night's chariot draw,
+    Or harsh south-winds should shake the heart with awe.
+    What real perils troop in Darkness' train,
+    Over what monsters Night extends her reign:
+    What vagrant phantoms, which in false shapes go,
+    Stern-ey'd, black-pinion'd, like the gods below!
+    But standing forth in false forms or in true,
+    For these, for those, a Virgin's dread is due.
+    Come then, come, Cynthia, with resounding bow,
+    And clang thy full-charg'd quiver at the foe.
+    These monsters, those, thy darts unerring share,
+    Nor truer aim thy brother's arrows bear:
+    Come, then, O come, with all thy face a-flame,
+    Worthy thyself to take Apollo's name.
+    Thou know'st how Phoebus' sister ought to shine;
+    If not, learn, Cynthia, from these cheeks divine.
+    Placed here thy torch more beauty would display,
+    And Night from hence prefer to draw its day;
+    Such moon more modest shed its silent beam,
+    And shamefac'd stay her softly-going team.
+    O Moon, thy day no rose so chaste resembles,
+    Thy torch with no such virgin beauty trembles.
+    Come then, but bring thy troops of stars likewise;
+    For they can try to shine like the Child's eyes.
+    An eye, a star, twinkling with equal grace,
+    The face of heaven and the Child's heavenly face.
+    How well the charm of each transferr'd would show,
+    From hand to hand the mutual sceptres go!
+    Whether heaven's eye should deck His skiey brow,
+    Or the Child's star adorn heaven's forehead now.
+    If the Child's star on heaven's forehead shone,
+    That eye would seem to Him not less His own.
+    Place on His skiey forehead heaven's eye,
+    Not less 'twould deem itself in its own sky.
+    Such interchanges might the stars and skies
+    Make charmingly with the Child's brow and eyes.
+    For change of place the stars indeed might like
+    An everlasting treaty now to strike;
+    And differing though in numbers, e'en the skies
+    Might wish to bargain for a change of eyes.
+    With how much better stars the sky would shine,
+    If as its stars it had these eyes divine!
+    The stars would shine in how much better heaven,
+    If as their sky this brow divine were given!
+    So sky and stars may choose--in vain they choose;
+    For the Child's brow and His fair eyes refuse.
+    Ah, wisely; for these eyes what better heaven
+    Could wish? what better stars to brow be given?
+    What though some gentle star more softly gleams?
+    What if heaven's way thrice, four times, milky seems?
+    Softer this eye which smiles in ruddy face;
+    This milk-white brow, thrice, four times is its grace.
+    To quit their heaven, let then these stars deny;
+    Stars ought not to be ta'en from their own sky.
+    They do deny; and soon in cloud are hid,
+    In tender shadow of the drooping lid.
+    Nor with their own defence content they rest,
+    But seek a hiding-place in mother's breast.
+    Thus the snow melts where His warm touch is plac'd,
+    And genial Spring blooms out of Winter chaste.
+    Such day such evening-dew deserves to drink;
+    Such suns in such a bed deserve to sink.
+    Sky-closing Eve, thy purple veil entwine,
+    Sun, thy luxurious couch incarnadine;
+    While wanton Thetis day too early closes,
+    Thy shameless bed place 'mid Hesperian roses;
+    Roses, forsooth, by conscious blushes painted,
+    By sin with its own tell-tale redness tainted.
+    Nights snowy-white, chaste couch to these suns be,
+    Which virgin Thetis spreads o'er lucent sea;
+    All-holy flowers, lilies inviolate,
+    Roses with innocent blush upon them wait.
+    Be theirs this bosom, where reclin'd all night
+    They bathe themselves in ocean milky-white.
+    And let them bathe, till their own morn say, rise;
+    And Day itself drink splendour from these eyes.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXVII.
+
+_Non dico, me rogaturum Patrem pro vobis._ Joan. xvi. 26.
+
+    Ah tamen ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Ille suos omni facie te figit amores;
+      Inque tuos toto effunditur ore sinus.
+    Quippe, tuos spectans oculos, se spectat in illis;
+      Inque tuo, Jesu, se fovet ipse sinu.
+    Ex te metitur sese, et sua numina discit:
+      Inde repercussus redditur ipse sibi.
+    Ille tibi se, te ille sibi par nectit utrinque:
+      Tam tuus est, ut nec sit magis ille suus.
+    Ergo roga: ipse roga: tibi scilicet ille roganti
+      Esse nequit durus, nec solet esse, Pater.
+    Illum ut ego rogitem? Hoc, eheu, non ore rogandum;
+      Ore satis puras non faciente preces.
+    Illum ego si rogitem, quis scit quibus ille procellis
+      Surgat, et in miserum hoc quae tonet ira caput?
+    Isto etiam forsan veniet mihi fulmen ab ore:
+      Saepe isto certe fulmen ab ore venit.
+    Ille una irati forsan me cuspide verbi,
+      Uno me nutu figet, et interii:
+    Non ego, non rogitem: mihi scilicet ille roganti
+      Durior esse potest, et solet esse, Pater.
+    Immo rogabo: nec ore meo tamen: immo rogabo
+      Ore meo, Jesu, scilicet ore tuo.
+
+_I do not say that I will pray the Father for you._
+
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    With favouring eyes He makes Thee all His love;
+    Toward Thine heart, Lord, His whole affections move.
+    Beholding Thy fair eyes Himself He sees;
+    In Thy pure breast Himself He cherishes.
+    By Thee He metes Himself, His godhead learns,
+    And, sweet reversion! to Himself returns.
+    He Thee, Thou He, in one Ye intertwine;
+    He is His own no more, He is so Thine.
+    Yea, Lord, ask Thou: He is not wont to be,
+    He cannot prove unkind, if ask'd of Thee.
+    Shall these lips, Lord, ask Him? But how should they?
+    With rightful words and pure they fail to pray.
+    If I should ask Him, then, what tempests dread,
+    What anger thundering o'er this wretched head!
+    His look perchance would gleam as lightning down--
+    Yea, oft, I know, as lightning falls His frown.
+    Perchance the javelin of one angry word,
+    One nod, would slay, and I should die unheard.
+    I? I'll not ask: Lord, He is wont to be,
+    He easy proves unkind, if ask'd of me.
+    Yet, stay: I'll ask:--not with these lips of mine;
+    Yea, with my lips,--my lips, Lord, namely Thine.      A.
+
+
+CLXXVIII.
+
+_In die ascensionis dominicae._ Act. i. 9, 10.
+
+    Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?
+      Heu, coeli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!
+    Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera coeli,
+      Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;
+    Phoebenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,
+      Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.
+    Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?
+      Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.
+    Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,
+      Aether[85] descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.
+
+    {Nyn eti hemeteron se, Christe, echomen ton erota?
+      Ouranou oun hosson ton phthonon hos echomen;
+    Alla echomen. echei hea men ta d' agalmata aither,
+      Astra te kai Phoibon kai kala ton nephelon.
+    Hosson een, hemin ophr' eie hen tode astron?
+      Astron hen hemin e; eisi toi astr' hekaton.
+    Panta maten. hoti, Christe, sy ouk anebaines es auton,
+      Autos men katebe ouranos eis se teos.}
+
+_On the day of the Lord's ascension._
+
+    Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
+    Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
+    But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
+    And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
+    Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
+    By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
+    'Twere little they should leave one light below:
+    Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
+    'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
+    To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky.         R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXIX.
+
+_Caecus implorat Christum._ Marc. x. 46-52.
+
+    Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
+      In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+    {Nykt' eleeson emen, eleeson. nai toi ekeino,
+      Christe, emou emar, nyx hod' emeio echei.
+    Ophthalmon men ekeino, Theos, deetai tode gnomes;
+      Me moi tout' aires, dos moi ekeino phaos.}[86]
+
+_The blind man implores Christ._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb,
+    Before my Lord to me His speech addresses?
+    Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:
+    Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
+    Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.
+    My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:
+    This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take.   R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXX.
+
+_Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex illis, &c._
+Luc. xv. 4.
+
+    O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!
+      Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.
+    Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,
+      Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.
+    Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;
+      Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.
+    Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;
+      Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.
+    Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:
+      De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.
+
+    {Eis men ego, he mou plane periegen, alemi;
+      Eis de toi sos esomai gethosynai pleones.
+    Amnos ho me poion phobon ou poiei de te charma.
+      Meizon ton men, emou chreia de glykytere.}
+
+_What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, &c._
+
+    O might I fire the angel-bands with joy,
+    Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ!
+    A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play;
+    All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say.
+    The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me;
+    Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee!
+    They give no joy who never caus'd a fear;
+    Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear.
+    Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment;
+    Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment.           R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXI.
+
+_Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti._ Act. xii. 2.
+
+    Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum,
+      Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput.
+    Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam,
+      Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput.
+    Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde,
+      Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit.
+
+    {En men, Iakobe, kephalen toi xiphos aperen,
+      Hen tode kai stephanon xiphos edoke teon.
+    Mounon ameibesthai kephalen, Iakobe, dynaito,
+      Keinos hod' hos kalos martyriou stephanos.}
+
+_To Herod beheading St. James._
+
+    Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke,
+    Or how on his blest head thine anger broke.
+    Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord
+    Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword.
+    Only this sacred sanguinary crown
+    That sunder'd head was able to weigh down.        R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXII.
+
+_Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur._ Matt. xx. 34.
+
+    Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit:
+      Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum.
+    Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra
+      Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.[87]
+
+    {Cheir epiballomene Christou epeballen opopon
+      Astra; opedeuei keina ge cheiri Theou.
+    Cheir haue toutois pelen ouranos. astra gar oimai
+      En cheri taut' oisei Christos epeita hee.}
+
+_The blind men having received their sight follow Christ._
+
+    See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create,
+    Which on that hand with due observance wait.
+    That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they
+    Which He will hold in His right hand one day.     R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIII.
+
+_Zachaeus in sycomoro._ Luc. xix. 4.
+
+    Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?
+      Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?
+    Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,
+      Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.
+
+    {Tipt' epikompazeis keneon xeino de te karpo,
+      Kai phyllois semne me, sykomore, teois?
+    Kai gar hod' ekkremnes sou nyn meteoros ap' ernous,
+      Ampelou ho kladon essetai ouraniou.}
+
+_Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree._
+
+    Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?
+    Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?
+    He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,
+    A cluster soon will be of the True Vine.          R. WI.
+
+
+CLXXXIV.
+
+_On our crucified Lord naked and bloody._
+
+    Th' have left Thee naked, Lord: O that they had!
+    This garment too I would they had deny'd.
+    Thee with Thyselfe they have too richly clad,
+    Opening the purple wardrobe of Thy side.
+      O never could bee found garments too good
+      For Thee to weare, but these of Thine own blood.
+
+
+CLXXXV.
+
+_Sampson to his Dalilah._
+
+    Could not once blinding me, cruell, suffice?
+    When first I look't on thee, I lost mine eyes.
+
+
+
+
+SECULAR EPIGRAMS.
+
+
+I.
+
+_Upon Ford's two Tragedyes, 'Love's Sacrifice' and 'The Broken Heart.'_
+
+    Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak'st one seeme two by art:
+    What is Love's Sacrifice but The Broken Heart?
+
+
+II.
+
+_Vpon the Faire Ethiopian, sent to a gentlewoman._
+
+    Lo here the faire Chariclea, in whom strove
+    So false a fortune and so true a love!
+    Now after all her toyles by sea and land,
+    O may she but arrive at your white hand!
+    Her hopes are crown'd; onely she feares that than
+    Shee shall appeare true Ethiopian.
+
+
+III.
+
+_On marriage._
+
+    I would be married, but I'de have no wife:
+    I would be married to a single life.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_On Nanus mounted upon an ant._
+
+    High-mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
+    Was throwne, alas, and got a deadly fall;
+    Vnder th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies
+    All torne: with much adoe yet ere he dyes
+    Hee straines these words: Base Envy, doe laugh on:
+    Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Vpon Venus putting-on Mars his armes._
+
+    What, Mars his sword? faire Cytherea, say,
+    Why art thou arm'd so desperately to-day?
+    Mars thou hast beaten naked; and, O then,
+    What needst thou put on armes against poore men?
+
+
+VI.
+
+_Vpon the same._
+
+    Pallas saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cry'd:
+    Come if thou dar'st; thus, thus let us be try'd.
+    Why, foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee,
+    That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Out of Martiall._
+
+    Foure teeth thou hadst, that, ranck'd in goodly state,
+                        Kept thy mouth's gate.
+    The first blast of thy cough left two alone;
+                        The second, none.
+    This last cough, Delia, cought-out all thy feare;
+    Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.
+
+
+NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+These Secular, or, as the word was, 'Humane' Epigrams, all originally
+appeared in the volume of 1646, as before, and were continued in the
+after-editions. It is pleasant to have this recognition of John Ford
+(I.) by Crashaw. The two Tragedies celebrated, appeared in the same
+year, 1633. The 'Faire Ethiopian' of II. was doubtless William Lisle's
+poem so named [Lond. 1632],--not given by Hazlitt, _s.n._ The others are
+too well known to need annotation. These are all preserved, with a
+collection of others, in the Tanner MS., as before. G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+
+II.
+
+EPIGRAMMATA SACRA.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+It is my great privilege to be the first to print the following
+extensive additions to the _Epigrammata Sacra_ of Crashaw. They are
+wholly derived from Archbishop Sancroft's MS. 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. RICHARD WILTON, 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. G.
+
+
+I.
+
+Act. xxviii. 3.
+
+    Paule, nihil metuas, non fert haec vipera virus:
+      Virtutem vestrae vult didicisse manus.
+    Oscula, non morsus; supplex, non applicat hostis.
+      Nec metuenda venit, sed miseranda magis.
+
+_St. Paul and the viper._
+
+    Paul, fear thou nought; no poison bears this asp:
+      It seeks to learn the virtue of thy hand.
+    Not as a foe, but suppliant, it would clasp;
+      Not fear, but pity, it would fain command.          G.
+
+
+II.
+
+Joan. vi. 14, 26.
+
+    Jam credunt, Deus es: Deus est, qui teste palato,
+      Quique ipso demum est judice dente Deus.
+    Scilicet haec sapiunt miracula: de quibus alvus
+      Proficere, et possit pingue latus fluere.
+    Haec sua fecisti populo miracula credunt.
+      Gens pia, et in ventrem relligiosa suum!
+
+_The miracle of the loaves._
+
+    Now truly they believe that Thou art God!--
+      God witnessed by palate and by tooth!--
+    They know the smack of miracles that load
+      And swell their paunches; yea, believe, forsooth.
+    To a most pious race, Lord, Thou appealest,
+    And stomachs most believing Thou revealest.           G.
+
+
+III.
+
+_In lacrymas Christi patientis._
+
+    Saeve dolor! potes hoc? oculos quoque perpluis istos?
+      O quam non meritas haec arat unda genas!
+    O lacrymas ego flere tuas, ego dignior istud,
+      Quod tibi cunque cadit roris, habere meum.
+    Siccine? me tibi flere tuas! ah, mi bone Jesu,
+      Si possem lacrymas vel mihi flere meas!
+    Flere meas? immo immo tuas, hoc si modo possem:
+      Non possem lacrymas, non ego flere meas.
+    Flere tuas est flere meas, tua lacryma, Christe,
+      Est mea vel lacryma est si tua, causa mea est.
+
+_Of the tears of the suffering Christ._
+
+    O cruel Pain! I ask thee how
+    Thou canst do what thou'rt doing now?
+    Dost thou also--or is't my fears?--
+    Drench His sweet eyes with scalding tears?
+    O how that show'r furrows amain
+    His undeserving cheek, as rain!
+    More meet it were that I should know
+    The tears that from His anguish flow:
+    More meet it were that I should feel
+    All dews that down His wan cheek steal:
+    O is it thus? Would that it were!
+    That I might weep Thy laden tear:
+    Yea, blessed Jesus, would that I
+    For mine own self could weeping lie:
+    Mine own tears weep? nay, they are Thine,
+    For all Thy tears, alas, are mine.
+    Ah, not a tear that Thou didst shed,
+    When sorrow bow'd Thy sacred head,
+    But came of human woe or guilt,
+    For which at last Thy Blood was spilt;
+    And even if the tears were Thine,
+    Being for my sake, they're rather mine.               G.
+
+
+IV.
+
+_In sepulcrum Domini._ Joan. xix. 38-42.
+
+    Jam cedant, veteris cedant miracula saxi,
+      Unde novus subito fluxerat amne latex.
+    Tu felix rupes, ubi se lux tertia tollet,
+      Flammarum sacro fonte superba flues.
+
+_The sepulchre of the Lord._
+
+    Yield place, ye wonders of the ancient stone
+      Whence sudden-gushing streams were seen to flow:
+    When the third day, blest rock, on thee has shone,
+      Proudly with fount of sacred fire thou'lt glow.     G.
+
+
+V.
+
+_Ubi amorem praecipit._ Joan. xiii. 14.
+
+    Sic magis in numeros morituraque carmina vivit
+      Dulcior extrema voce caducus olor;
+    Ut tu inter strepitus odii, et tua funera, Jesu,
+      Totus amor liquido totus amore sonas.
+
+_The parting words of Love._
+
+    E'en as the dying swan, sweeter for failing breath,
+      Dies not, but rather lives, in her last wistful song,
+    Dost Thou, Lord, mid hate's din and close-approaching death,
+      As Love, with melting voice, Thy dying love prolong. G.
+
+
+VI.
+
+Act. xii. 23.
+
+    Euge, Deus--pleno populus fremit undique plausu--
+      Certe non hominem vox sonat, euge, Deus!
+    Sed tamen iste Deus qui sit, vos dicite, vermes,
+      Intima turba illi; vos fovet ille sinu.
+
+_Herod devoured of worms._
+
+    Behold a god! full-voic'd the people cry;
+      Not man, but god, with shouts they him attest.
+    What kind of god he is, ye worms, reply--
+      A crowd that know the secrets of his breast.        G.
+
+
+VII.
+
+_Bonum est nobis esse hic._
+
+    Cur cupis hic adeo, dormitor Petre, manere?
+      Somnia non alibi tam bona, Petre, vides.
+
+_It is good to be here._
+
+    Why seek'st thou, drowsy Peter, here to stay?
+    Elsewhere such pleasant dreams thou see'st not, eh?[88] G.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+_Videte lilia agrorum ... nec Salomon, &c._ Matt. vi. 29.
+
+    Candide rex campi, cui floris eburnea pompa est,
+      Deque nivis fragili vellere longa toga;
+    Purpureus Salomon impar tibi dicitur esto.
+      Nempe, quod est melius, par fuit ille rosis.
+
+_Look on the lilies of the field ... not Solomon, &c._
+
+    O fairest monarch of the enamell'd field,
+      Whose is the blossom'd pomp of ivory splendour,
+    And whose the fleeces, snowy-white, which yield
+      Long-flowing robes immaculate and tender.
+    Ah, not like lilies--'tis divinely spoken--
+      Was Solomon, with sin encrimsoned;
+    But not unlike--and 'tis a better token--
+      Roses tear-wash'd, which hang the blushing head.  R. WI.
+
+
+IX.
+
+Marc. vii. 33, 36.
+
+    Voce manuque simul linguae tu, Christe, ciendae:
+      Sistendae nudis vocibus usus eras.
+    Sane at lingua equus est pronis effusus habenis:
+      Vox ciet, at sistit non nisi tota manus.
+
+
+_The deaf healed._
+
+    To wake the tongue--voice, hand too, Christ would use;
+      To check it, but a bare word of command.
+    Really, the tongue is as a horse rein'd-loose--
+      Starts at a word, stay'd only with strong hand.  R. WI.
+
+
+X.
+
+_In beatae Virginis verecundiam._
+
+    Non est hoc matris, sed, crede, modestia nati,
+      Quod virgo in gremium dejicit ora suum.
+    Illic jam Deus est, oculus jam Virginis ergo,
+      Ut coelum videat, dejiciendus erit.
+
+_The modesty of the blessed Virgin._
+
+    Not humbleness of mother, but of Child,
+    Shines in the downward gaze of Virgin mild.
+    The Virgin gazes where her God doth lie:
+    She must look down that Heaven may meet her eye.      G.
+
+
+XI.
+
+_Mitto vos sicut agnos in medio luporum._
+
+    Hos quoque, an hos igitur saevi lacerabitis agnos?
+      Hic saltem, hic vobis non licet esse lupis.
+    At sceleris nulla est clementia, at ergo scietis,
+      Agnus qui nunc est, est aliquando Leo.
+
+_I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves._
+
+    These lambs also, e'en these, will ye, then, fiercely tear?
+    Here to be wolves, at least here, ye will never dare.
+    Alas, the wicked still are cruel; but ye'll learn
+    He Who is now a Lamb will one day Lion turn.          G.
+
+
+XII.
+
+_Christus a daemone vectus._ Matt. iv.
+
+    Ergo ille, angelicis o sarcina dignior alis,
+      Praepete sic Stygio, sic volet ille vehi.
+    Pessime! nec laetare tamen tu scilicet inde,
+      Non minus es daemon, non minus ille Deus.
+
+_Christ carried by the devil._
+
+    Will He--O burden worthier angels' wings!--
+      Deign to be carried by swift fiend of hell?
+    Vilest! to thee this no advancement brings;
+      He no less God, thou no less demon fell.            G.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Vox ego sum, dicis: tu vox es, sancte Joannes?
+      Si vox es, sterilis cur tibi mater erat?
+    Quam fuit ista tuae mira infoecundia matris!
+      In vocem sterilis rarior esse solet.
+
+_St. John the Baptist a voice._
+
+    'I am a voice, a voice,' says holy John.
+      If so, how should thy mother barren be?
+    This is unfruitfulness to muse upon;
+      Tongue-barren women we so seldom see!               G.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+_Vox Joannes, Christus Verbum._
+
+    Monstrat Joannes Christum, haud res mira videtur:
+      Vox unus, verbum scilicet alter erat.
+    Christus Joanne est prior, haec res mira videtur:
+      Voce sua verbum non solet esse prius.
+
+_John the Voice, Christ the Word._
+
+    John points out Christ; no wonder this we deem:
+      One is a Voice, the other is the Word.
+    Christ is before John; wondrous this may seem;
+      For when was word before a voice e'er heard?        G.
+
+
+XV.
+
+_In natales Domini pastoribus nuntiatos._ Luc. ii. 8-19.
+
+    Ad te sydereis, ad te, bone Tityre, pennis
+      Purpureus juvenis gaudia tanta vehit.
+    O bene te vigilem, cui gaudia tanta feruntur,
+      Ut neque dum vigilas, te vigilare putes.
+    Quem sic monstrari voluit pastoribus aether,
+      Pastor an agnus erat? Pastor et agnus erat.
+    Ipse Deus cum Pastor erit, quis non erit agnus?
+      Quis non pastor erit, cum Deus agnus erit?
+
+_On the birth of the Lord announced to the shepherds._
+
+    To thee, good Tityrus, on starry wings        _shepherd_
+    The royal angel such 'glad tidings' brings.
+    Surely the happy watcher never thought
+    That he was watching when such joys were brought.
+    And He, Whom thus the heavenly host reveal'd
+    To shepherds 'mid their flocks in open field,
+    Tell me, was He a Shepherd or a Lamb?
+    Shepherd and Lamb at once; He took each name.
+    Since, then, our God a Shepherd's name doth wear,
+    The name of lamb who will not wish to bear?
+    And who will not be shepherd, since God deigns
+    To be a Lamb, for suffering of sin's pains?           G.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+_In Atheniensem merum._ Act. xvii. 28.
+
+    Ipsos naturae thalamos sapis, imaque rerum
+      Concilia, et primae quicquid agunt tenebrae,
+    Quid dubitet refluum mare, quid vaga sydera volvant;
+      Christus et est studiis res aliena tuis.
+    Sic scire, est tantum nescire loquacius illa:
+      Qui nempe illa sapit sola, nec illa sapit.
+
+_Of the 'blue-blood' pride of the Athenians._
+
+    Thou knowest Nature's secret things
+    And all her deepest counsellings--
+    All wonders of the primal Night
+    Conceal'd from prying human sight;
+    Knowest how the sea-tide pauses,
+    The wandering stars too in their causes.
+    But while to thee, in all else wise,
+    Christ from thy thoughts an alien lies,
+    In earthly studies to advance
+    Is but loquacious ignorance;
+    And he whose wisdom is but such,
+    Of those things even knows not much.
+    O, study thou beneath the Cross,
+    Or all thy labour is but loss!                        G.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+_Ego vitis vera._ Joan. xv. 1.
+
+    Credo quidem, sed et hoc hostis te credidit ipse
+      Caiaphas, et Judas credidit ipse, reor.
+    Unde illis, Jesu, vitis nisi vera fuisses,
+      Tanta tui potuit sanguinis esse sitis?
+
+_I am the True Vine._
+
+    'Believe!' e'en Caiaphas, thy foe, believed
+      Thee the True Vine; and Judas too, I think.
+    Had they not, Lord, Thee as True Vine received,
+      Could they have thirsted so Thy Blood to drink?     G.
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+_Abscessum Christi queruntur Discipuli._
+
+    Ille abiit, jamque o quae nos mala cunque manetis,
+      Sistite jam in nostras tela parata neces.
+    Sistite; nam quibus haec vos olim tela paratis,
+      Abscessu Domini jam periere sui.
+
+_The departure of Christ lamented by the Disciples._
+
+    The Lord is gone; and now, all evils dire,
+      Hold back the darts which for our death you flourish:
+    Yea, hold them back, nor waste on us your ire,
+      For with our Lord's departure, lo, we perish.       G.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+_In descensum Spiritus Sancti._ Act. ii. 1-4.
+
+    Quae vehit auratos nubes dulcissima nimbos?
+      Quis mitem pluviam lucidus imber agit?
+    Agnosco, nostros haec nubes abstulit ignes:
+      Haec nubes in nos jam redit igne pari.
+    O nubem gratam et memorem, quae noluit ultra
+      Tam saeve de se nos potuisse queri!
+    O bene; namque alio non posset rore rependi,
+      Coelo exhalatum quod modo terra dedit.
+
+_On the descent of the Holy Spirit._
+
+    What sweetest cloud comes wafting golden shower?
+    What gentle raindrops bring their shining dower?
+    The cloud which stole our flame, our heart's desire,
+    This very cloud returns with equal fire.
+    O kindly-mindful cloud, which could not brook
+    That we should mourn thee with so sad a look!
+    'Tis well; no other dew had countervail'd
+    That which from earth to heaven was late exhal'd.  R. WI.
+
+
+XX.
+
+Act. x. 39.
+
+    Quis malus appendit de mortis stipite vitam?
+      O malus agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit?
+    Immo, quis appendit vitae hac ex arbore mortem?
+      O bonus Agricola, hoc inseruisse fuit.
+    What wicked one affix'd Life to Death's tree?
+      O wretched gard'ner, call'st thou this engrafting?
+    Nay, tell me who affix'd Death to Life's tree?
+      O noble Gard'ner, this I call engrafting.           G.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+_Ego sum Ostium._ Joan. x. 9.
+
+    Jamque pates, cordisque seram gravis hasta reclusit,
+      Et clavi claves undique te reserant.
+    Ah, vereor, sibi ne manus impia clauserit illas,
+      Quae coeli has ausa est sic aperire fores.
+
+_I am the Doore._
+
+    And now th' art set wide ope; the speare's sad art,
+    Lo, hath unlockt Thee at the very heart.
+    He to himselfe--I feare the worst--
+          And his owne hope,
+    Hath shut these doores of heaven, that durst
+          Thus set them ope.                             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Now Thou art open wide; the barrier dear
+    Of Thy great heart unclos'd by cruel spear;
+    And nails as keys unlock Thee everywhere.
+    Ah, he whose wicked hand thus forc'd the gate
+    Of heaven, perhaps at heaven's shut door will wait
+    One day, with outer darkness for his fate.            G.
+
+
+XXII.
+
+_In spinas demtas a Christi capite cruentatas._
+
+    Accipe, an ignoscis? de te sata germina, miles.
+      Quam segeti est messis discolor illa suae!
+    O quae tam duro gleba est tam grata colono?
+      Inserit hic spinas: reddit et illa rosas.
+
+_Upon the thornes taken downe from our Lord's head bloody._
+
+    Knowst thou this, souldier? 'tis a much-chang'd plant, which yet
+                          Thyselfe didst set;
+    'Tis chang'd indeed: did Autumn e're such beauties bring
+                          To shame his Spring?
+    O, who so hard an husbandman could ever find
+                          A soyle so kind?
+    Is not the soile a kind one, thinke ye, that returnes
+                          Roses for thornes?             CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Take, soldier--know'st them not?--thy planted germs;
+      A harvest how unlike to its seed-corn!
+    What soil yields husbandman such kindly terms?
+      The rose he gathers, where he planted thorn.        G.
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+Joan. iii. 1-21.
+
+    Nox erat, et Christum, Doctor male docte, petebas
+      In Christo tenebras depositure tuas.
+    Ille autem multo dum te bonus irrigat ore,
+      Atque per arcanas ducit in alta vias,
+    Sol venit, et primo pandit se flore diei,
+      Ludit et in dubiis aureus horror aquis.
+    Sol oritur; sed adhuc, et adhuc tamen, o bone, nescis.
+      Sol oritur, tecum nox tamen est, et adhuc
+           .       .       .       .       .
+      Non coeli, illa fuit, nox fuit illa tua.
+
+_Nicodemus._
+
+    'Twas night; and, Teacher all untaught,
+    Thy darkness thou to Christ hast brought
+    But while attent He speaks to thee
+    Benignant words, that thou mayst see,
+    Leading higher still and higher,
+    As thy yearnings do aspire,
+    Guiding thee, by sure grace given,
+    Through secret paths that reach to heaven;
+    Lo, the Sun on thee is risen,
+    Bursting from his cloudy prison,
+    Showing Him, the Life, the Way,
+    Flushing with first bloom of day,
+    Quivering with a golden light
+    Such as on wav'ring seas gleams bright.
+    The Sun is risen; yet darkness lies,
+    Good Nicodemus, on thine eyes;
+    But the night's thine own; for, lo,
+    All heav'n above doth lustrous glow.                  G.
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+_Domitiano de S. Johanne ad portam Lat._
+
+    Ergo ut inultus eas? sed nec tamen ibis inultus,
+      Sic violare ausus meque meosque deos.
+    Ure oleo, lictor. Oleo parat urere lictor:
+      Sed quem uri lictor credidit, unctus erat.
+    Te quoque sic olei virtus malefida fefellit?
+      Sic tua te Pallas, Domitiane, juvat?
+
+_To Domitian, concerning St. John commanded to be cast into a caldron of
+boiling oil._
+
+    Thou go unpunish'd? That shall never be,
+    Since thou hast dar'd to mock my gods and me.
+    Burn him in oil!--The lictor oil prepares:
+    Behold the Saint anointed unawares!
+    With such elusive virtue was the oil fraught!
+    Such aid thy olive-loving Pallas brought![89]     R. WI.
+
+
+XXV.
+
+_In Baptistam vocem._ Joan. i. 23.
+
+    Tantum habuit Baptista loqui, tot flumina rerum,
+      Ut bene Vox fuerit, praetereaque nihil.
+    Ecce autem Verbum est unum tantum ille loquutus:
+      Uno sed Verbo cuncta loquutus erat.
+
+_The voice of the Baptist._
+
+    The Baptist had to speak such floods of things,
+      That well he might be Voice and nothing more:
+    But one word only, lo, Christ speaks, which brings
+      In one word all: My soul that Word adore!           G.
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+_In D. Petrum angelo solutum._ Act. xii. 6, 7.
+
+    Mors tibi et Herodes instant: cum nuncius ales
+      Gaudia fert, quae tu somnia ferre putas.
+    Quid tantum dedit ille, rogo, tibi? Vincula solvit,
+      Mors tibi et Herodes nonne dedisset idem?
+
+_On St. Peter loosed by the angel._
+
+    Death, Herod, press on thee; when angel's wing
+    Brings joys which thou supposest dreams to bring.
+    What gave he thee? Thy chains burst at his touch;
+    But Death and Herod would have given as much.     R. WI.
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+_Relictis omnibus sequuti sunt eum._ Luc. v. 28.
+
+    Ad nutum Domini abjecisti retia, Petre.
+      Tam bene non unquam jacta fuere prius.
+    Scilicet hoc recte jacere est tua retia, Petre,
+      Nimirum, Christus cum jubet, abjicere.
+
+_On St. Peter casting away his nets at our Saviour's call._
+
+    Thou hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell
+    To cast thy nets on all occasions well.
+    When Christ calls, and thy nets would have thee stay,
+    To cast them well's to cast them quite away.         CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    At the Lord's word thy nets were cast away:
+      Never before thy nets so well were cast.
+    Rightly to cast them is to cast away,
+      When once The Master's order has been pass'd.       G.
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+_Agnus Dei, qui tollit peccata mundi._ Joan. i. 36.
+
+    Ergo tot heu, torvas facies, tot in ora leonum,
+      In tot castra lupum qui meat, Agnus erit?
+    Hic tot in horribiles, quot sunt mea crimina, pardos?
+      Hic tot in audaces ungue vel ore feras?
+    Ah melius, pugiles quis enim commiserit istos?
+      Quos sua non faciunt arma vel ira pares.
+
+_The Lamb of God, Who bears away the sins of the world._
+
+    Shall He, then, be a Lamb, to go
+    Forth against such various foe?
+    Lions ravenous, great of jaw;
+    Wolves in vast herds, of mighty paw;
+    Pards vengeful, prowling out and in--
+    Frightful, num'rous as my sin--
+    Awful of face, and gaunt and grim,
+    Merciless to mangle limb by limb.
+    Ah, goest Thou, gentle One, 'gainst these?
+    And does terror upon Thee seize?
+    O how unequal is the strife,
+    And the prey so grand a life!
+    With such as these to fight art fated?
+    Nor in arms nor passion mated.                        G.
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+_Pisces multiplicati._ Joan. xxi. 11.
+
+    Quae secreta meant taciti tibi retia verbi,
+    Queis non tam pisces quam capis Oceanum?
+
+_The miraculous draught of fishes._
+
+    What nets, hid in Thy silent word,
+                      Passest Thou on;
+    By which not fish Thou takest, Lord,
+                      But the Ocean?                      G.
+
+
+XXX.
+
+_Domine, non solum pedes, sed et caput, &c._ Joan. xiii. 9.
+
+    En caput, atque suis quae plus satis ora laborant
+      Sordibus; huc fluvios, ais [et] adde tuos.
+    Nil opus est; namque haec, modo tertius occinat ales,
+      E fluviis fuerint, Petre, lavanda suis.
+
+_Lord, not my feet only, but also my head, &c._
+
+    'Behold my head, behold my face,
+    Which sin's filthiest stains deface:
+    Here pour Thy streams:' thou say'st to Me.
+    But, Peter, needs not this for thee;
+    For ere the cock a third time crow,
+    Rivers of its own tears must flow.                    G.
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+_Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant._ Joan. xii. 37.
+
+    Quanta amor ille tuus se cunque levaverit ala,
+      Quo tua cunque opere effloruit alta manus;
+    Mundus adest, contraque tonat, signisque reponit
+      Signa, adeo sua sunt numina vel sceleri,
+    Imo, o nec nimii vis sit temeraria verbi,
+      Ille uno sensu vel tua cuncta premit.
+    Tot tantisque tuis mirac'lum hoc objicit unum,
+      Tot tantisque tuis non adhibere fidem.
+
+_Though they beheld so many miracles, they believed not._
+
+    However high in Thy great love Thou wingest,
+    And whatsoe'er within Thy hand Thou bringest,
+    Against Thee, with its thunders, stands the world,
+    Sign answering sign; Sin's banners all unfurl'd.
+    Nay--and let not the bold rash word appal--
+    One thought o' the world makes all Thy wonders fall:
+    Against Thy mightiest signs this one it wields--
+    To the vast whole of Thine, no faith it yields.       G.
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+_In nubem, quae Dominum abstulit._ Act. i. 9.
+
+    O nigra haec! quid enim mihi candida pectora monstrat,
+      Pectora cygneis candidiora genis?
+    Sit vero magis alba, suo magis aurea Phoebo,
+      Quantumcunque sibi candida; nigra mihi est.
+    Nigra mihi nubes! et qua neque nigrior Austros,
+      Vel tulit irati nuntia tela Dei.
+    Nigra! licet nimbos, noctem neque detulit ullam.
+      Si noctem non fert, at rapit, ecce, diem.
+
+_On the cloud which received the Lord._
+
+    O, this black cloud! a white breast does it show--
+    A breast more white than a swan's neck of snow?
+    More bright than golden sunshine let it be!
+    However fair itself, 'tis black to me.
+    From blacker cloud ne'er issu'd stormy blast,
+    Nor thunderbolts of angry heaven were cast.
+    Black! though no showers or shadows round it play;
+    If Night it bring not, yet it takes our Day.      R. WI.
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+_Vidit urbem, et flevit super eam._ Luc. xix. 41, 42.
+
+    Ergo meas spernis lacrymas, urbs perfida? Sperne.
+      Sperne meas, quas o sic facis esse tuas.
+    Tempus erit, lacrymas poterit cum lacryma demum
+      Nostra, nec immerito, spernere spreta tuas.
+
+_He saw the city, and wept over it._
+
+    Why scornest thou My tears, deceitful city?
+      Scorn, scorn My tears, and thus thou mak'st them thine.
+    The time will come when thou shalt seek My pity;
+      But I shall scorn thy tears, as thou scorn'st Mine. G.
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+_Nec sicut iste publicanus._ Luc. xviii. 11.
+
+    Tu quoque dum istius miseri peccata fateris,
+      Quae nec is irato mitius ungue notat;
+    Hic satis est gemino bonus in sua crimina telo.
+      Interea, quid erit, mi Pharisaee, tuis?
+
+_Nor even as this publican._
+
+    While thou too dost this wretch's sins confess,
+    Which he with hand and tongue deplores no less;
+    If he 'gainst his own crimes twice just will be,
+    What thinks he meanwhile of the Pharisee?         R. WI.
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+_Accedentes Discipuli excitaverunt eum._ Matt. viii. 25.
+
+    Ah, quis erat furor hos, tam raros, solvere somnos?
+      O vos, queis Christi vel sopor invigilat!
+    Illum si somnus tenuit, vos somnia terrent,
+      Somnia tam vanos ingeminata metus.
+    Nil Christi nocuit somnus, mihi credite. Somnus
+      Qui nocuit, vestrae somnus erat fidei.
+
+_His Disciples came and awoke Him._
+
+    What madness this, slumbers so rare to break,
+    O ye, for whom even Christ's sleep doth wake!
+    If sleep held Him, ye're terrified by dreams--
+    Dreams which redouble fear that only seems.
+    Christ's sleep nought injur'd you, indeed 'tis true:
+    Your faith's sleep, and that only, injur'd you.   R. WI.
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+_In mulierem Canaanaeam cum Domino decertantem._ Matt. xv. 22-28.
+
+    Cedit io jam, jamque cadet modo, fortiter urge,
+      Jam tua ni desit dextera, jamque cadet.
+    Nimirum hoc velit ipse, tuo favet ipse triumpho,
+      Ipse tuas tacitus res tuus hostis agit.
+    Quas patitur facit ille manus; ictu ille sub omni est;
+      Atque in te vires sentit, amatque suas.
+    Usque adeo haud tuus hic ferus est, neque ferreus hostis;
+      Usque adeo est miles non truculentus Amor.
+    Illo quam facilis victoria surgit ab hoste,
+      Qui, tantum ut vinci possit, in arma venit!
+
+_The woman of Canaan._
+
+    Now He yieldeth, now He falleth,
+    As thy passion on Him calleth:
+    Press thee nigher still and nigher,
+    Urge thee higher still and higher;
+    Cleave and cling, nor let thy hand
+    Cease to plead, nor fearing stand.
+    He thy triumph sees with gladness,
+    Loves thee in thy clinging sadness;
+    Seems thy foe, yet ne'ertheless
+    Yearns in His heart of love to bless;
+    Willing bears thy every blow,
+    That from His own pow'r doth flow;
+    Loves to hear thy interceding,
+    His own voice within thee pleading.
+    Ah, this seeming en'my of thine,
+    Of fierceness giveth thee no sign;
+    For Love no grim soldier is,
+    Rough and severe, denying bliss.
+    Eas'ly is that victory won,
+    When the foe seeks to be undone.                      G.
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+_Quare comedit Magister vester cum peccatoribus, &c._ Matt. ix. 11.
+
+    Siccine fraternos fastidis, improbe, morbos,
+      Cum tuus, et gravior, te quoque morbus habet?
+    Tantum ausus medicum morbus sibi quaerere, magnus;
+      Tantum ausus medicum spernere, major erat.
+
+_Wherefore eateth your Master with sinners, &c._
+
+    Dost loathe thy brother, Pharisee,
+      Since his disease to Christ he brings?
+    And knowest not that all men see
+      Disease to thee more deadly clings?
+    That he dare seek Healer so great,
+      Shows great his disease to be;
+    That thou dar'st scorn on Him to wait,
+      Shows a greater cleaves to thee.                    G.
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+_In febricitantem et hydropicum sanatos._ Marc. i. 30, 31; Luc. xiv.
+2-4.
+
+    Nuper lecta gravem extinxit pia pagina febrem,
+      Hydropi siccos dat modo lecta sinus.
+    Haec vice fraterna quam se miracula tangunt,
+      Atque per alternum fida juvamen amant!
+    Quippe ignes istos his quam bene mersit in undis,
+      Ignibus his illas quam bene vicit aquas!
+
+_Miracles of healing the men sick of fever and of dropsy._
+
+    We read within the sacred page
+    Christ quench'd a fever's burning rage;
+    Read that a dropsy's swollen flood
+    Ebb'd at His word e'en as He stood.
+    Well join'd these mir'cles each to other,
+    As loving brother unto brother:
+    How well these waters drown'd that flame,
+    That fire these waters overcame!                      G.
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+_In S. Lucam medicum._ Col. iv. 14.
+
+    Hanc, mihi quam miseram faciunt mea crimina vitam,
+      Hanc, medici, longam vestra medela facit.
+    Hoc'ne diu est vixisse? diu, mihi credite, non est
+      Hoc vixisse; diu sed timuisse mori.
+    Tu foliis, Medice alme, tuis medicamina praebes,
+      Et medicaminibus, quae mala summa, malis.
+    Hoc mortem bene vitare est, vitare ferendo.
+      Et vixisse diu est hoc, cito posse mori.
+
+_To St. Luke the physician._
+
+    This life my sins with wretchedness make rife,
+    Physicians by their art prolong this life.
+    Is this to live long time? I hear one sigh;
+    This is but fearing a long time to die.
+    Thy leaves, Physician blest, medicines contain
+    E'en for our medicines poor, our chiefest bane.
+    This is to escape death well--in death to lie;
+    And this is to live long--quickly to die.         R. WI.
+
+
+XL.
+
+_Tollat crucem suam, &c._ Matt. xxvii. 32.
+
+    Ergo tuam pone; ut nobis sit sumere nostram:
+      Si nostram vis nos sumere, pone tuam.
+    Illa, illa, ingenti quae te trabe duplicat, illa
+      Vel nostra est, nostras vel tulit illa cruces.
+
+_He bears His own cross, &c._
+
+    Wherefore Thy cross, O Lord, lay down,
+      That we our own may make it:
+    If ours Thou willest us to own,
+      Thine, Lord, lay down; we'll take it:
+    That, that, I say, with its huge beam,
+      Which Thy prest body doubles;
+    That cross, e'en that, our own we deem,
+      For it has borne our troubles.
+    Our sin Thy burden sendeth;
+    Thy cross our crosses blendeth.                       G.
+
+
+XLI.
+
+_In cygneam D. Jesu cantionem._ Joan. xvii.
+
+    Quae mella, o quot, Christe, favos in carmina fundis!
+      Dulcis et, ah furias! ah, moribundus olor!
+    Parce tamen, minus hae si sunt mea gaudia voces:
+      Voce quidem dulci, sed moriente canis.
+
+_Upon our Lord's last comfortable discourse with His disciples._
+
+    All Hybla's honey, all that sweetnesse can,
+    Flowes in Thy song, O faire, O dying Swan!
+    Yet is the joy I take in't small or none;
+    It is too sweet to be a long-liv'd one.              CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION. _On the swan-song of our Lord Jesus._
+
+    What songs, like honeycomb, your tongue employ,
+      Sweet Swan! but ah, Thou waitest for Death's call.
+    O cease; these sounds are but a doubtful joy;
+      'Tis a sweet voice, but has a dying fall.           G.
+
+
+XLII.
+
+_Et conspuebant illum._ Marc. xiv. 65.
+
+    Quid non tam foede saevi maris audeat ira?
+      Conspuit ecce oculos, sydera nostra, tuos.
+    Forsan et hic aliquis sputo te excaecat, Jesu,
+      Qui debet sputo, quod videt ipse, tuo.
+
+_And they spat upon Him._
+
+    What will Wrath's sea, so foully fierce, not dare?
+    It spits upon our stars, Thy eyes so fair.
+    Perchance e'en here some one now spits on Thee
+    Who to Thy spittle owes it, he doth see.              G.
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+_Rogavit eum, ut descenderet et sanaret filium suum._ Joan. iv. 47.
+
+    Ille ut eat tecum, in natique tuique salutem?
+      Qui petis; ah nescis, credo, quod ales Amor.
+    Ille ut eat tecum? quam se tua vota morantur!
+      Ille ut eat? tanto serius esset ibi.
+    Ne tardus veniat, Christus tecum ire recusat:
+      Christi nempe ipsum hoc ire moratur iter.
+    Christi nempe viis perit hoc quodcunque meatur:
+      Christi nempe viis vel properare mora est.
+    Hic est, cui tu vota facis tua, Christus: at idem,
+      Crede mihi, dabit haec qui rata, Christus ibi est.
+
+_He besought that He would go with him and heal his son._
+
+    That He would go with thee thou pleadest,
+    As for thy child thou intercedest.
+    Ah, little knowest thou how Love,
+    Such as descendeth from Above,
+    Swifter far is than feet can go,
+    Or any motion here below.
+    'Go with thee?' O how strange request!
+    Thou wouldst later then be blest.
+    That He may not slowlier come,
+    Christ will not travel with thee home,
+    For so to 'go' were to delay;
+    All paths unneeded by The Way.
+    Christ to Whom thou speakest pleading,
+    Christ with Whom thou'rt interceding,
+    He is here, and yet is yonder,
+    Swift as is the bolt of thunder:
+    He thy heart's desire will give;
+    Have thou faith, thy child shall live.                G.
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+_Pavor enim occupaverat eum super capturam piscium._ Luc. v. 9.
+
+    Dum nimium in captis per te, Petre, piscibus haeres,
+      Piscibus, ut video, captus es ipse tuis.
+    Rem scio, te praedam Christus sibi cepit: et illi
+      Una in te ex istis omnibus esca fuit.
+
+_For dread came upon him at the great draught of fishes._
+
+    Whilst, Peter, thou art so astonished
+                At thy draught of fishes,
+    Methinks thyself by them art captive led:
+                Christ to catch thee wishes,
+    So as one bait He setteth all these fishes.           G.
+
+
+XLV.
+
+_Viderunt et oderunt me._ Joan. xv. 24.
+
+    Vidit? et odit adhuc? Ah, te non vidit, Jesu.
+      Non vidit te, qui vidit, et odit adhuc.
+    Non vidit, te non vidit, dulcissime rerum;
+      In te qui vidit quid, quod amare neget.
+
+_But now they have seen and hated._
+
+    Seene, and yet hated Thee? They did not see;
+    They saw Thee not, that saw and hated Thee:
+    No, no, they saw Thee not, O Life, O Love,
+    Who saw aught in Thee that their hate could move.    CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See Thee, Lord, and hated still?
+    Ah, that were impossible:
+    See and hate? He saw Thee never
+    Who could see, nor love for ever.
+    O Thou, the all-lovely One,
+    He hath had no vision
+    Who can see and hate; for why,
+    Speck nor stain may none descry
+    In Thy lowly, lofty Face,
+    Full of sweetness, love, and grace.                  G.
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+Luc. xviii. 39.
+
+    Tu mala turba tace; mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
+      Tuque in me linguam vis tacuisse meam?
+    Tunc ego, tunc taceam, mihi cum meus Ille loquetur.
+      Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae tam laeta tuo ridet in ore diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
+    O noctis miserere meae, miserere, per illam,
+      Haec mea quam, fidei, nox habet ipsa, diem.
+    Illa dies animi, Jesu, rogat hanc oculorum:
+      Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
+
+_The blind suppliant._
+
+    Be silent, crowd: my prayers so near me come,
+    And do you bid my pleading tongue be dumb
+    Before my Lord to me His speech, etc.[90]
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    Silence, silence, O vile crowd;
+    Yea, I will now cry aloud:
+    He comes near, Who is to me
+    Light and life and liberty.
+    Silence seek ye? yes, I'll be
+    Silent when He speaks to me,
+    He my Hope; ah, meek and still,
+    I shall 'bide His holy will.
+    O crowd, ye it may surprise,
+    But His voice holdeth my eyes:
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day that gives glad light;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By the day would lose its light,
+    If it gat not of Thee sight;
+    O have pity on my night,
+    By day of faith upspringing bright;
+    That day within my soul that burns,
+    And for eyes' day unto Thee turns.
+    Lord, O Lord, give me this day,
+    Nor do Thou take that away.                           G.
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+_In Pharisaeos Christi verbis insidiantes._ Matt. xxii. 15.
+
+    O quam te miseri ludunt vaga taedia voti,
+      Ex ore hoc speras qui, Pharisaee, malum!
+    Sic quis ab Aurorae noctem speraverit ulnis,
+      Unde solet primis Sol tener ire rosis?
+    Sic Acheronta petas illinc unde amne corusco
+      Lactea sydereos Cynthia lavit equos.
+    Sic violas aconita roges: sic toxica nympham,
+      Garrula quae vitreo gurgite vexat humum.
+    Denique, ut exemplo res haec propriore patescat,
+      A te sic speret quis, Pharisaee, bonum?
+
+_The Pharisees insidiously watching the words of Christ._
+
+    O self-baffl'd Pharisee,
+    Vainly dost thou weary thee,
+    Hoping at His holy mouth
+    To catch other than the Truth:
+    Stainless, holy, pure is He,
+    Guileless as Simplicity.
+    Who would e'er expect black Night
+    In the bosom of the Light,
+    When the young sun in splendour burns,
+    And the dawn to roses turns?
+    Who, again, would seek to mark
+    Acheron plunging i' the dark,
+    Where white Cynthia's starry steeds
+    Lave them by the glitt'ring meads?
+    Who would aconite think to get
+    From the fragrant violet?
+    Or, watching by the babbling rill
+    Gushing in pureness from the hill,
+    Think thence poison to distil?
+    In fine, instance nearer thee--
+    Would any ever hope to see
+    Aught of good in Pharisee?                            G.
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+Matt. ix. 20.
+
+    Falleris, et nudum male ponis, pictor, Amorem;
+      Non nudum facis hunc, cum sine veste facis.
+    Nonne hic est, dum sic digito patet ille fideli,
+      Tunc cum vestitus, tunc quoque nudus Amor?
+
+_Touched the hem of His garment._
+
+    Erringly, painter, thou portrayst Love bare:
+    Not bare you make him, though no clothes he wear.
+    Here, while laid open to believing hand,
+    Though clothed indeed, bare truly see Him stand.   R. WI.
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+    Tolle oculos, tolle, o tecum tua sydera nostros.
+      Ah quid enim, quid agant hic sine sole suo?
+    Id quod agant sine sole suo tua sydera, coelum:
+      Id terrae haec agerent hic sine sole suo.
+    Illa suo sine sole suis caeca imbribus essent:
+      Caeca suis lacrymis haec sine sole suo.
+
+_The departing Saviour._
+
+    O take, take with Thee, Lord, Thy stars, our eyes;
+      What would they do left here without their sun?
+    E'en what your sunless stars would do, ye skies,
+      Would here by sunless stars of earth be done.
+    Without their sun, those dark with showers we see;
+    These without sun, dark with their tears would be.  R. WI.
+
+
+L.
+
+_Nam ego non solum vinciri, &c._ Act. xxi. 13.
+
+    Quid mortem objicitis nostro, quid vinc'la timori?
+      Non timor est illinc, non timor inde meus.
+    Vincula, quae timeam, sunt vincula sola timoris:
+      Sola timenda mihi est mors, timuisse mori.
+
+_Paul unfearing._
+
+    Why talk of death or bonds to me,
+    As if these things a fear could be?
+    My fear springeth not from thence;
+    Nor in these is influence
+    Me to trouble or alarm,
+    Me to fret, or me to harm.
+    The only bonds that fearful are
+    Are the bonds themselves of fear;
+    The only death looks dreadfully,
+    Is lest I should fear to die.                         G.
+
+
+LI.
+
+_Legatio Baptistae ad Christum._ Matt. xi.
+
+    Oro, quis es? legat ista suo Baptista Magistro.
+      Illi quae referant, talia Christus habet.
+    Cui caecus cernit, mutus se in verba resolvit,
+      It claudus, vivit mortuus: oro, quis est?
+
+_The message of the Baptist to Christ._
+
+    I ask, Who art Thou? is the Baptist's word.
+    Straight from his Master this reply is heard:
+    He by whose mighty power dumb speak, blind see,
+    Lame walk, dead live: Who is This? I ask thee.    R. WI.
+
+
+LII.
+
+    Accipe dona, puer, parvae libamina laudis;
+      Accipe, non meritis accipienda suis:
+    Accipe dona, puer dulcis; dumque accipis illa,
+      Digna quoque efficies, quae, puer, accipies.
+    Sive oculo, sive illa tua dignabere dextra;
+      Dextram oculumque dabis posse decere tuum.
+    Non modo es in dantes, sed et ipsa in dona benignus;
+      Nec tantum donans das, sed et accipiens.
+
+_Gifts to Jesus._
+
+    Take, Lord, these gifts, small offerings of our hand,
+    Though their own worth acceptance none command.
+    Take, and while taking them, Thou Saviour sweet.
+    E'en what Thou takest, Thou wilt render meet.
+    Whether Thou deem them worthy eye or touch,
+    Thou wilt be able, Lord, to make them such:
+    Kind e'en to gifts themselves, as to those giving,
+    Thou givest both when giving and receiving.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIII.
+
+_In partum B. Virginis non difficilem._
+
+    Nec facta est tamen illa parens impune, quod almi
+      Tam parcens uteri venerit ille puer.
+    Una haec nascentis quodcunque pepercerit hora.
+      Toto illum vitae tempore parturiit.
+    Gaudia parturientis erat semel ille parenti;
+      Quotidie gemitus parturientis erat.
+
+_On the blessed Virgin's easy parturition._
+
+    Not lightly she escap'd a mother's doom,
+    Although her Child dealt gently with her womb:
+    Whate'er was spar'd at the one hour of birth,
+    She travail'd with Him all His time on earth:
+    The joy of childbirth quickly pass'd away;
+    She felt the pangs of childbirth every day.       R. WI.
+
+
+LIV.
+
+    Circulus hic similem quam par sibi pergit in orbem!
+      Principiumque suum quam bene finis amat!
+    Virgineo thalamo quam pulchre convenit ille,
+      Quo nemo jacuit, virgineus tumulus!
+    Undique ut haec aequo passu res iret; et ille
+      Josepho desponsatus, et ille fuit.
+
+_Upon our Saviour's tombe, wherein never man was laid._
+
+    How life and death in Thee
+                        Agree!
+    Thou hadst a virgin wombe
+                        And tombe:
+    A Joseph did betroth
+                        Them both.                       CR.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION.
+
+    See how a circle tends,
+    Beginning as it ends:
+    Behold a virgin womb;
+    Behold a virgin tomb;
+    Behold, and wonder at the truth,
+    A Joseph was espous'd to both!                        G.
+
+
+LV.
+
+_In Sanctum igneis linguis descendentem Spiritum._ Act. ii. 3.
+
+    Absint, qui ficto simulant pia pectora vultu,
+      Ignea quos luteo pectore lingua beat.
+    Hoc potius mea vota rogant, mea thura petessunt,
+      Ut mihi sit mea mens ignea, lingua luti.
+
+_On the Holy Spirit descending in fiery tongues._
+
+    Begone, who goodness feign with a false face,
+    Whom fiery tongues in earthy bosom grace.
+    This rather all my prayers and gifts desire,
+    A tongue of earth, if but my heart be fire.       R. WI.
+
+
+LVI.
+
+LIFE FOR DEATH.[91]
+
+_Whosoever will loose his life, &c._ Matt. xvi. 25.
+
+    Soe I may gaine Thy death, my life I'le giue,--
+    My life's Thy death, and in Thy death I liue;
+    Or else, my life, I'le hide thee in His graue,
+    By three daies losse aeternally to saue.              CR.
+
+
+LVII.
+
+ON THE DIVINE LOVE: AFTER H. HUGO.[92]
+
+_In amorem divinum_ (Hermannus Hugo).
+
+    Aeternall Loue! what 'tis to loue Thee well,
+    None but himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.
+    But oh, what to be lou'd of Thee as well,
+    None, not himselfe who feeles it, none can tell.     CR.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+III.
+
+HITHERTO UNCOLLECTED.
+
+1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+
+
+FIDES, QUAE SOLA JUSTIFICAT,
+NON EST SINE SPE ET DILECTIONE.
+
+
+    Nam neque tam sola est. O quis male censor amarus
+      Jam socias negat in mutua sceptra manus?
+    Deme Fidem; nec aget, nec erit jam nomen Amoris:
+      Et vel erit, vel aget quid sine Amore Fides?
+    Ergo, Amor, i, morere; i, magnas, Puer alme, per umbras     5
+      Elysiis non tam numen inane locis.
+    O bene, quod pharetra hoc saltem tua praestat et arcus,
+      Ne tibi in extremos sit pyra nulla rogos!
+    O bene, quod tuus has saltem tibi providet ignis,
+      In tu quas possis funera ferre faces!                    10
+    Durus es, ah, quisquis tam dulcia vincula solvis;
+      Quae ligat, et quibus est ipse ligatus Amor.
+    O bene junctarum divortia saeva sororum,
+      Tam penitus mixtas quae tenuere manus!
+    Nam quae, tam varia, in tam mutua viscera vivunt?          15
+      Aut ubi, quae duo sunt, tam prope sunt eadem?
+    Alternis sese circum amplectuntur in ulnis:
+      Extraque et supra, subter et intus eunt.
+    Non tam Nympha tenax, Baccho jam mista marito,
+      Abdidit in liquidos mascula vina sinus.                  20
+    Compare jam dempto, saltem sua murmura servat
+      Turtur, et in viduos vivit amara modos.
+    At Fidei sit demptus Amor; non illa dolebit,
+      Non erit impatiens aegraque; jam moritur.
+    Palma, marem cui tristis hyems procul abstulit umbram,     25
+      Protinus in viridem procubuit faciem?
+    Undique circumfert caput, omnibus annuit Euris;
+      Siqua maritalem misceat aura comam:
+    Ah misera, expectat longum, lentumque expirat,
+      Et demum totis excutitur foliis.                         30
+    At sine Amore Fides nec tantum vivere perstat,
+      Quo dici possit vel moritura Fides.
+    Mortua jam nunc est: nisi demum mortua non est
+      Corporea haec, anima deficiente, domus.
+    Corpore ab hoc Fidei hanc animam si demis Amoris,          35
+      Jam tua sola quidem est, sed male sola Fides.
+    Hectore ab hoc, currus quem jam nunc sentit Achillis,
+      Hectora eum speres quem modo sensit herus?
+    Tristes exuvias, Oetaei frusta furoris,
+      Vanus, in Alcidae nomen et acta vocas?                   40
+    Vel satis in monstra haec, plus quam Nemeaea, malorum
+      Hoc Fidei torvum et triste cadaver erit?
+    Immo, Fidem usque suos velut ipse Amor ardet amores;
+      Sic in Amore fidem comprobat ipsa Fides.
+
+ERGO:
+
+    Illa Fides vacua quae sola superbiat aula,                 45
+      Quam Spes desperet, quam nee amabit Amor;
+    Sola Fides haec, tam misere, tam desolate
+      Sola, quod ad nos est, sola sit usque licet.
+    A sociis quae sola suis, a se quoque sola est.
+      Quae sibi tam nimia est, sit mihi nulla Fides.           50
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+FAITH, WHICH ALONE JUSTIFIES,
+
+EXISTS NOT WITHOUT HOPE AND LOVE.
+
+    That Faith which only justifies
+    A sinner as in guilt he lies,
+    Bow'd aneath the awful blood,
+    Clinging to the uplifted rood,
+    Is not alone so as nor Love
+    Nor heavenly Hope may in it move,
+    To thrill with touch of ecstasy
+    The bruised heart, the swimming eye.
+      What, censor! bitter to ill end,
+    Dost thou thy dogma still defend?
+    And wouldest thou to hands allied
+    Mutual sceptres see denied,
+    Snapping betwixt Faith and Love
+    The tie that binds them from Above?
+    I tell thee nay, stone-hearted one,
+    The Faith of Christ is not alone:
+    Take Faith away, and Love will sigh;
+    Take Hope away, and Faith will die;
+    Take Faith away, Love will do naught;
+    Take Love away, and Faith's distraught:
+    For I tell thee, vain sophister,
+    They're as sister unto sister.
+      But mark, this Love that brings Faith joy
+    Is not blind Cupid. Ah, bright Boy,
+    Begone; thou shalt not, wouldst thou, stay;
+    Go, get thee swift from light o' day;
+    Go, get thee now to the vast shades,
+    And there indulge thy escapades:
+    Thou in Elysian realms mayst reign
+    A fitting deity, not vain:
+    Go therefore, and with thee thy bow
+    And quiver. Well it is below
+    That these for thee shall form a pyre,
+    To which thy torch will furnish fire.
+      But, ah, thou hast a heart of stone,
+    Who wouldest make Faith live alone,
+    Loos'ning the sweet ties Love has found
+    To bind Faith to her, herself bound.
+    O, it is cruel thus to sever
+    Sisters whom God hath joined ever;
+    Whose clasped hands so closely cling,
+    E'en as vine-tendrils ring on ring:
+    You may not tell there's more than one,
+    So absolute the union.
+    Where shall you find beneath the sky
+    Two differing so variously,
+    And yet each life in other bound,
+    Touch one, the other you shall wound:
+    Or where, 'mid all the pairs on earth,
+    Twins through marriage or through birth,
+    Shall you find two so truly one?
+    Arms twining in affection,
+    They clasp each other, chin to chin,
+    Above, below, without, within,
+    Embracing and embrac'd by turns;
+    Yet not with such wild-fire as burns
+    In Lust's hot touch, and clasp and grasp
+    Eager and stinging as tongue of asp.
+    Not so closely interwine
+    The graceful Elm and clinging Vine,
+    When to bosom of the tree
+    Bacchus' clusters prest you see,
+    And the Nymph the fruit receives,
+    And hides it amid dewy leaves;
+    Ev'n as the poets tell of old,
+    In legends of the Age of Gold.
+      Faith and Love know no such flame,
+    Their pure twining brings no shame;
+    Look for taint, you'll find it missing:
+    'Tis as flower flower kissing;
+    Or twin-roses dewy dripping,
+    And twin-bees their honey sipping.
+      The Turtle-dove, robb'd of her mate,
+    Pines and mourns disconsolate;
+    Yet still lives on in widow'd grief,
+    Knowing at times Hope's sweet relief.
+    But Faith when once of Love bereft
+    Loses her all, has nothing left;
+    Nor mourns nor frets nor pales--she's dead,
+    Struck to the heart astonied.
+      The Palm that by the wintry blast
+    Sees her companion-tree downcast,
+    Whose mighty shadow o'er her threw
+    Protection when the fierce storm blew;
+    Her umbrage sheds, and quivering
+    Seeks that some fav'ring wind would bring
+    Her branches with his boughs to mingle,
+    Since she is left in sadness, single;
+    Wretched, she wears and wastes away,
+    Leaf following leaf in wan decay,
+    Until at last, naked and bare,
+    She shivers in the piercing air;
+    And when the Spring comes, Winter sped,
+    'Tis vain to call her--she is dead!
+      But when Love from Faith is gone,
+    Faith lingers not still on and on;
+    That while her form yet meets your eye,
+    You can pronounce 'She'll surely die.'
+    SHE'S DEAD i' the instant: or you will
+    Maintain a stark corpse liveth still,
+    Whose soul has pass'd beyond the sky,
+    Sunder'd until the last great Cry.
+    Faith is the body, Love the soul;
+    Take Love from it, you take the whole:
+    Now, now indeed thy Faith's alone,
+    But being alone, lo, it is none.
+    To make it clear, turn Homer's page
+    That paints Achilles' hate and rage,
+    When, having mighty Hector slain,
+    He dragg'd him dead over the plain--
+    That Hector whom the chariot feels
+    Dragg'd helpless, lifeless at its wheels,
+    Was it the same who, with proud crest,
+    That chariot's lord had lately prest,
+    Eager the victory to wrest?
+    Hercules' name and deeds dost see
+    In Oeta's bloody tragedy,
+    When dead the mighty hero lay,
+    Of jealousy the poison'd prey.
+    His living strength the lion slew,
+    And hide Nemaean round him threw:
+    'Gainst more than lion-rage of Death
+    Dost summon the sad corpse of Faith?
+    Sure Love with love for Faith will burn,
+    While Faith herself trusts Love in turn.
+
+THEREFORE:
+
+    That Faith alone, lording it high,
+    Which Hope despairs of, and with cry
+      Of anguish Love can never love,
+      Is not the Faith sent from Above:
+      The Faith that thus would be alone,
+      What is't to us--desolate, lone?
+      Faith then, that loved will not love
+      Nor hope--may no such Faith me move!
+      But ever in my bosom lie
+      Faith, Hope, and Love in trinity:
+    Yea, Love himself shall Faith's best lover prove,
+    And Faith confirm his strongest faith in Love.        G.
+
+
+BAPTISMUS NON TOLLIT FUTURA PECCATA.
+
+    Quisquis es ille tener modo quem tua mater[93] Achilles
+      In Stygis aethereae provida tinxit aquis,
+    Sanus, sed non securus dimitteris illinc:
+      In nova non tutus vulnera vivis adhuc.
+    Mille patent aditus; et plus quam calce petendus            5
+      Ad nigri metues spicula mille dei.
+    Quod si est vera salus, veterem meminisse salutem;
+      Si nempe hoc vere est esse, fuisse pium;
+    Illa tibi veteres navis quae vicerat Austros,
+      Si manet in mediis usque superstes aquis;                10
+    Ac dum tu miseros in littore visis amicos,
+      Et peccatorum triste sodalitium,
+    Illa tibi interea tutis trahet otia velis,
+      Expectans donec tu rediisse queas:
+    Quin igitur da vina, puer; da vivere vitae;                15
+      Mitte suum senibus, mitte supercilium;
+    Donemus timide, o socii, sua frigora brumae:
+      Aeternae teneant hic nova regna rosae.
+    Ah, non tam tetricos sic eluctabimur Euros;
+      Effractam non est sic revocare ratem.                    20
+    Has undas aliis decet ergo extinguere in undis;
+      Naufragium hoc alio immergere naufragio:
+    Possit ut ille malis oculus modo naufragus undis,
+      Jam lacrymis melius naufragus esse suis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+BAPTISM CANCELS NOT AFTER-SINS.
+
+    O young Achilles, whom a mother's care
+      Hath dipp'd as in a sacred Stygian wave;
+    Whole, but yet not secure, thou hence dost fare,
+      For there are wounds from which it will not save.
+    A thousand ways of entrance open lie
+      For evil; not alone against thy heel
+    The prince of darkness in his rage lets-fly
+      The thousand arrows thou mayst dread to feel.
+    But if remember'd health may still have given
+      True health, and to have been is still to be,
+    Thou seem'st as one whose bark, by storms unriven,
+      Still rides, as yet unconquer'd, on the sea;
+    And, while on shore thy friends thou visitest,
+      And the sad company of them that sin,
+    With furled sails upon the waves at rest,
+      Thy bark floats idly till thou art within.
+    But if for this thou criest overbold,
+      'Bring wine! enjoy the moment as it goes;
+    Leave to old age its cares; dismiss the cold,
+      While in new realms for ever reigns the rose!'
+    Ah, know that not in revels such as these
+      Learn we to struggle with the spiteful gale;
+    Nor thus can hope to rescue from rough seas
+      The broken cable and the driven sail.
+    These waves must in another wave be wash'd,
+      This shipwreck in another shipwreck drown'd;
+    The eye in such ill storms so vilely dashed,
+      A happier wreck in its own tears be found.         CL.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART FIRST. SACRED.
+
+IV.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    The Sancroft MS., as before, furnishes the following hitherto
+    unprinted longer Poems, which I place under SACRED, as being
+    throughout in subject and treatment such. The Rev. RICHARD WILTON,
+    M.A., as before, has at once the praise and responsibility of the
+    translations in the whole of this section. G.
+
+
+
+
+PSALMUS I.
+
+
+    O te te nimis et nimis beatum,
+    Quem non lubricus implicavit error;
+    Nec risu misero procax tumultus.
+    Tu cum grex sacer undique execrandis
+    Strident consiliis, nec aure felix;
+    Felix non animo, vel ore mixtus,
+    Haud intelligis impios susurros.
+    Sed tu deliciis ferox repostis
+    Cultu simplice, sobriaque cura
+    Legem numinis usque et usque volvis.
+    Laeta sic fidas colit arbor undas,
+    Quem immiti violentus aura
+    Seirius frangit, neque contumacis.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    This fragment of a Latin rendering of the first Psalm may be
+    compared with BUCHANAN'S, but, I fear, not to its advantage. It were
+    superfluous to give a translation of it; but see the parallel which
+    follows. G.
+
+
+IRA PROCELLAE.
+
+    At tu, profane pulvis, et lusus sacer
+    Cujusvis aurae; fronte qua tandem feres
+    Vindex tribunal? quanta tum, et qualis tuae
+    Moles procellae stabit? O quam ferreo
+    Frangere nutu, praeda frontis asperae,
+    Sacrique fulminandus ah procul, procul
+    A luce vultus, aureis procul a locis,
+    Ubi longa gremio mulcet aeterno pios.
+    Sincera semper pax, et umbrosa super
+    Insurgit ala, vividique nectaris
+    Imbres beatos rore perpetuo pluit.
+    Sic ille, sic, o vindice, stat vigil,
+    Et stabit ira torvus in impios,
+      Seseque sub mentes bonorum
+        Insinuat facili favore.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE WRATH OF THE JUDGMENT-WHIRLWIND.
+
+    But thou, O dust profane, and of each air
+    The plaything doom'd, with what face wilt thou bear
+    The Judgment-throne? how huge a stormy cloud
+    Will lower upon thee! how wilt thou be bow'd
+    With iron nod, the prey of frowning Face,
+    By thunder to be driven far off, apace,
+    From light of sacred Countenance! afar
+    From golden regions, where the righteous are,
+    Sooth'd in pure Peace's lap eterne, whose wing
+    Towers high above them, overshadowing;
+    While happy showers of nectar sweet imbue
+    Their lips, as with an everlasting dew.
+      The wicked so His watchful ire will learn,
+    And cower 'neath God's avenging countenance stern;
+    The righteous so His love divine will feel
+    With gentle lapse into their bosom steal.         R. WI.
+
+
+CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+    Ergo veni; quicunque ferant tua signa timores,
+      Quae nos cunque vocant tristia, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; suus avulsum rapiat labor axem,
+      Nec sinat implicitas ire redire vias;
+    Mutuus attonito titubet sub foedere mundus,
+      Nec natura vagum dissona volvat opus.
+    Christe, veni; roseos ultra remeare per ortus
+      Nolit, et ambiguos Sol trahat aeger equos.
+    Christe, veni; ipsa suas patiatur Cynthia noctes,
+      Plus quam Thessalico tincta tremore genas;
+    Astrorum mala caesaries per inane dolendum
+      Gaudeat, horribili flore repexa caput;
+    Sole sub invito subitae vis improba noctis
+      Corripiat solitam, non sua jura, diem;
+    Importuna dies, nec Eoi conscia pacti,
+      Per desolatae murmura noctis eat.
+    Christe, veni; tonet Oceanus pater, et sua nolit
+      Claustra vagi montes sub nova sceptra meent.
+    Christe, veni; quodcunque audet metus, audeat ultra
+      Fata id agant, quod agant; tu modo, Christe, veni.
+    Christe, veni; quacunque venis mercede malorum.
+      Quanti hoc constiterit cunque venire, veni.
+    Teque tuosque oculos tanti est potuisse videre!
+      O tanti est te vel sic potuisse frui!
+    Quicquid id est, veniat. TU MODO, CHRISTE, VENI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EVEN SO: COME, LORD JESUS.
+
+    O come; whatever fears Thy standards carry,
+    Or sorrows summon us, Lord, do not tarry.
+    Come, Lord; though labouring heaven whirl from its place,
+    And its perplexed paths no more can trace;
+    Though sympathising earth astonied reel,
+    And nature jarred cease its round to wheel.
+    Come, Lord; though sun refuse with rosy beam
+    To rise, and sickly drives a doubtful team.
+    Come, Lord; though moon look more aghast at night
+    Than when her cheeks with panic fear are white;
+    Though ominous comets through the dolorous air
+    Hurtle, and round their brow dread fire-wreaths wear;
+    Though spite of struggling sun Night's sudden sway
+    Impious and lawless seize the accustom'd day;
+    Mistimed Day, mindless of eastern glow,
+    Through moanings of forsaken Night should go.
+    Come, Lord; though father Ocean roars and lowers,
+    That his mov'd mountain-bars own other powers.
+    Come, Lord; whate'er Fear dares, e'en let it dare;
+    Let Fates do what they will, be Thou but there.
+    Come, Lord; with whate'er recompense of ill,
+    Whate'er Thy coming cost, O come, Lord, still.
+    Thee and Thine eyes, O what 'twill be to see!
+    Thee to enjoy e'en so, what will that be!
+    Let come what will, do Thou, Lord, only come.     R. WI.
+
+
+CIRCUMCISIO.
+
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, qui tam bona lilia primus
+      In tam crudeles jussit abire rosas;
+    Virgineum hoc qui primus ebur violavit ab ostro,
+      Inque sui instituit muricis ingenium.
+    Scilicet hinc olim quicunque cucurrerit amnis,
+      Ex hoc purpurei germine fontis erit.
+    Scilicet hunc mortis primum puer accipit unguem,
+      Injiciunt hodie fata, furorque manus.
+    Ecce illi sanguis fundi jam coepit; et ecce
+      Qui fundi possit, vix bene sanguis erat;
+    Excitat e dolio vix dum bene musta recenti,
+      Atque rudes furias in nova membra vocat.
+    Improbus, ut nimias jam nunc accingitur iras,
+      Armaque non molli sollicitanda manu;
+    Improbus, ut teneras audet jam ludere mortes,
+      Et vitae ad modulum, quid puerile mori;
+    Improbus, ut tragici impatiens praeludia fati
+      Ornat, et in socco jam negat ire suo:
+    Scilicet his pedibus manus haec meditata cothurnos?
+      Haec cum blanditiis mens meditata minas?
+    Haec tam dura brevem decuere crepundia dextram?
+      Dextra giganteis haec satis apta genis?
+    Sic cunis miscere cruces? cumque ubere matris
+      Commisisse neces et scelus et furias?
+    Quo ridet patri, hoc tacite quoque respicit hastam,
+      Quoque oculo matrem mulcet, in arma redit.
+    Dii superi, furit his oculis! hoc asper in ore est!
+      Dat Marti vultus, quos sibi mallet Amor.
+    Deliciae irarum! torvi, tenera agmina, risus!
+      Blande furor! terror dulcis! amande metus!
+    Praecocis in paenas pueri lascivia tristis!
+      Cruda rudimenta! et torva tyrocinia!
+    Jam parcum breviusque brevi pro corpore vulnus,
+      Proque brevi brevior vulnere sanguis eat:
+    Olim, cum nervi vitaeque ferocior haustus
+      Materiam morti luxuriemque dabunt;
+    Olim maturos ultro conabitur imbres;
+      Robustum audebit tunc solidumque mori.
+    Ergo illi, nisi qui in saevos concreverit usus,
+      Nec nisi quem possit fundere, sanguis erit?
+    Euge, puer trux! euge tamen mitissime rerum!
+      Quique tibi tantum trux potes esse, puer?
+    Euge tibi trux! euge mihi mitissime rerum!
+      Euge Leo mitis! trux sed et Agne tamen!
+    Macte, puer, macte hoc tam durae laudis honore!
+      Macte, o paenarum hac indole et ingenio!
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, tam docte dolorum,
+      In tristem properas sic, puer, ire virum.
+    Ah ferus, ah culter, sub quo, puer auree, crescis,
+      Mortis proficiens hac quasi sub ferula.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.
+
+    Ah, fierce, fierce knife, which such sweet lilies first
+    Into such cruel roses made to burst;
+    Which first this ivory pure with purple stain'd,
+    And in the white a deeper dye engrain'd.
+    Whatever stream hereafter hence shall flow,
+    Out of this purple fountain-head shall grow.
+    Now first this tender Child Death's talons knows,
+    The Fates and Fury now hurl their first blows.
+    See now His blood begins to pour; and see
+    Scarce blood enough to pour there seems to be.
+    Scarce wise to broach the new wine from the wood,
+    And 'gainst those young limbs call the Furies rude.
+    Wanton, e'en now He girds on woes too much,
+    And arms not to be tried by such soft touch:
+    Wanton, He dares at gentle deaths to play,
+    And for His age to die, as a child may:
+    Wanton, beforehand acts His tragic woe,
+    Restless, refusing in child-step to go.
+    Buskins is this hand shaping for those feet,
+    And does this mind plan threats with coaxings sweet?
+    Such playthings stern does this small hand bespeak,
+    And is it match'd with giant's iron cheek?
+    To mingle cross with cradle, mother's breast
+    With slaughter, wickedness, and rage unblest?
+    His smiling eye now glances at the spear,
+    And turns to arms from soothing mother dear.
+    God, with such face to frown, such eyes to rage!
+    War wins the looks which Love would fain engage.
+    O winsome angers! savage smiles--mild brood--
+    Soft rage, sweet terror, awe which might be woo'd!
+    Sad wanton forwardness of Child for woes;
+    Harsh rudiments, stern training which He chose!
+    Now scantier wound for scanty body show,
+    And scantier blood for scanty wound let now.
+    Soon, when His strength and deeper draught of breath
+    Shall furnish food luxuriously for Death,
+    'Twill be His pleasure then full showers to try,
+    Then will He strongly, wholly dare to die.
+    No blood but what to cruel use will grow
+    To Him belongs, or what He can bid flow.
+    Ah, cruel Child, though of all things most mild,
+    Yet to Thyself Thou canst be cruel, Child;
+    To Thyself cruel, but most mild to me;
+    A Lion mild, a pitiless Lamb here see.
+    Long, long may this stern praise Thine honour lift,
+    A faculty for woes[94] and innate gift.
+    Fierce knife, from which experience sharp He borrows,
+    While the Child hastes to grow the Man of Sorrows;
+    Fierce knife, 'neath which Thou draw'st Thy golden breath,
+    Advancing as 'twere 'neath the rod of Death.      R. WI.
+
+
+VIRGO.
+
+    Ne, pia, ne nimium, Virgo, permitte querelis:
+      Haud volet, haud poterit natus abesse diu.
+    Nam quid eum teneat? vel quae magis oscula vellet?
+      Vestri illum indigenam quid vetet esse sinus?
+    Quippe illis quae labra genis magis apta putentur?
+      Quaeve per id collum dignior ire manus?
+    His sibi quid speret puer ambitiosius ulmo,
+      Quove sub amplexu dulcius esse queat?
+    O quae tam teneram sibi vitis amicior ulmum
+      Implicet, alternis nexibus immoriens?
+    Cui circum subitis eat impatientior ulnis?
+      Aut quae tam nimiis vultibus ora notet?
+    Quae tam prompta puer toties super oscula surgat?
+      Qua signet gemma nobiliore genam?
+    Illa ubi tam vernis adolescat mitius auris,
+      Tamve sub apricis pendeat uva jugis?
+    Illi qua veniat languor tam gratus in umbra?
+      Commodius sub quo murmure somnus agat?
+    O ubi tam charo, tam casto in carcere regnet,
+      Maternoque simul virgineoque sinu,
+    Ille ut ab his fugiat, nec tam bona gaudia vellet?
+      Ille ut in hos possit non properare sinus?
+    Ille sui tam blanda sinus patrimonia spernet?
+      Haeres tot factus tam bene deliciis?
+    Ne tantum, ne Diva, tuis permitte querelis:
+      Quid dubites? Non est hic fugitivus Amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VIRGIN MARY,
+
+ON LOSING THE CHILD JESUS.
+
+    Not, not too much, Virgin, to plaints give way;
+    Nor will, nor can, thy Son long from thee stay.
+    Why should He? Where so love to be carest?
+    What could prevent His nestling in thy breast?
+    What lips more suited to those cheeks divine?
+    What hand to clasp that neck more fit than thine?
+    What could He hope more clinging than these arms?
+    Or what embraces e'er possess such charms?
+    What kindlier vine its tender elm around
+    Could twine, in mutual folds e'en dying found?
+    To whom with sudden arms more eager go?
+    Who on this face such yearning glances throw?
+    Where 'mid such quick-rain'd kisses could He wake?'
+    Whence His prest cheek a nobler ruby take?
+    Where could that grape ripen in airs more mild,
+    Or hang 'neath hills where suns so sweetly smil'd?
+    Where could such grateful languor o'er Him creep,
+    Or what more soothing murmur lull to sleep?
+    Where could He reign in nook so chaste, so dear,
+    As in this Mother's, Virgin's bosom here?
+    Could He fly hence, and such blest joys decline,
+    And could He help hastening to breast of thine?
+    This balmy bosom's heritage not share,
+    Of such delights so easily made heir?
+    Nay, Lady, nay; thy loud complainings stay;
+    Be cheer'd: this is no Love that flies away.      R. WI.
+
+
+APOCALYPSE XII. 7.
+
+    Arma, viri! aetheriam quocunque sub ordine pubem
+      Siderei proceres ducitis; arma, viri!
+    Quaeque suis, nec queis solita est, stet dextra sagittis;
+      Stet gladii saeva luce corusca sui.
+    Totus adest, totisque movet se major in iris,
+      Fertque Draco, quicquid vel Draco ferre potest.
+    Quas secum facies, imae mala pignora noctis;
+      Quot secum nigros ducit in arma deos.
+    Jam pugnas parat, heu saevus! jam pugnat, et ecce,
+      Vix potui 'Pugnat' dicere, jam cecidit.
+    His tamen ah nimium est quod frontibus addidit iras;
+      Quod potuit rugas his posuisse genis.
+    Hoc torvum decus est, tumidique ferocia fati,
+      Quod magni sceleris mors quoque magna fuit.
+    Quod neque, si victus, jaceat victoria vilis;
+      Quod meruit multi fulminis esse labor;
+    Quod queat ille suas hoc inter dicere flammas:
+      'Arma tuli frustra: sed tamen arma tuli.'
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WAR IN HEAVEN.
+
+Rev. xii. 7.
+
+    To arms, ye starry chieftains all, who lead
+    The youth of heaven to war--to arms, with speed!
+    Let each right-hand its untried arrows grasp,
+    Or its own fiercely-gleaming falchion clasp.
+    _He_ is _all_ here, and mightier in his wrath,
+    The Dragon brings all powers the Dragon hath:
+    Strange forms, curst children of the deepest Night--
+    What dusky gods he marshals to the fight!
+    Now he makes ready, fights now, fierce as hell!
+    Scarce could I say 'He fights,' when, lo, he fell.
+    Ah, 'twas too much to scar with wrath these faces,
+    And leave on angel-cheeks such furrow'd traces.
+    'Tis his grim boast and proudly-swelling fate,
+    That of a great crime e'en the end was great:
+    If vanquish'd, that 'twas no mean victory;
+    Much bolted thunder there requir'd to be;
+    That with these words his fiery pains he charms:
+    'Arms I bore vainly; but I did bear arms.'        R. WI.
+
+NOTE.
+
+    See our Essay, as before, for relation of this poem to the Sospetto
+    d' Herode, and others. G.
+
+
+NON ACCIPIMUS BREVEM VITAM,
+
+SED FACIMUS.
+
+    Ergo tu luges nimium citatam
+    Circulo vitam properante volvi?
+    Tu Deos parcos gemis, ipse cum sis
+                        Prodigus aevi?
+    Ipse quod perdis, quereris perire?
+    Ipse tu pellis, sed et ire ploras?
+    Vita num servit tibi? servus ipse
+                        Cedet abactus.
+    Est fugax vitae, fateor, fluentum:
+    Prona sed clivum modo det voluptas,
+    Amne proclivi magis, et fugace
+                        Labitur unda.
+    Fur Sopor magnam hinc, oculos recludens,
+    Surripit partem, ruit inde partem
+    Temporis magnam spolium reportans
+                        Latro voluptas.
+    Tu creas mortes tibi mille, et aeva
+    Plura quo perdas, tibi plura poscis......
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WE DO NOT RECEIVE, BUT MAKE, A SHORT LIFE.
+
+    Dost thou lament that life, urg'd-on too quickly,
+    Rolls round its course in hasting revolution?
+    Dost blame the thrifty gods, when thou thyself art
+                        Lavish of lifetime?
+    What thyself wastest, mourn'st thou if it perish?
+    Dost drive it from thee, but deplore it going?
+    Is life thy servant? Sooth, a very servant
+                        Turn'd off departeth.
+    Life's stream is fleeting--I confess it--always;
+    But once let Pleasure yield an easy incline,
+    With headlong wave and with more fleeting current
+                        Onward it glideth.
+    Sleep, the thief, closing drowsy eyelids, snatcheth
+    One mighty portion; while as large a portion
+    Pleasure, the robber, carries off unchalleng'd--
+                        Time's precious gold-dust.
+    Thou for thyself a thousand deaths createst;
+    And the more lifetimes thou dost spend in folly,
+    So many more in lieu of them demandest;
+                        Wasting and wanting.          R. WI.
+
+
+DE SANGUINE MARTYRUM.
+
+    Felices, properatis io, properatis, et altam
+      Vicistis gyro sub breviore viam.
+    Vos per non magnum vestri mare sanguinis illuc
+      Cymba tulit nimiis non operosa notis,
+    Quo nos tam lento sub remigio luctantes
+      Ducit inexhausti vis male fida freti.
+    Nos mora, nos longi consumit inertia lethi;
+      In ludum mortis luxuriemque sumus.
+    Nos aevo et senio et latis permittimur undis;
+      Spargimur in casus, porrigimur furiis.
+    Nos miseri sumus ex amplo spatioque perimus;
+      In nos inquirunt fata, probantque manus;
+    Ingenium fati sumus, ambitioque malorum.
+      Conatus mortis consiliumque sumus.
+    In vitae multo multae patet area mortis[95]
+           .       .       .       .       .
+    Non vitam nobis numerant, quot viximus anni:
+      Vita brevis nostra est; sit licet acta diu.
+    Vivere non longum est, quod longam ducere vitam:
+      Res longa in vita saepe peracta brevi est.
+    Nec vos tam vitae Deus in compendia misit,
+      Quam vetuit vestrae plus licuisse neci.
+    Accedit vitae quicquid decerpitur aevo,
+      Atque illo brevius, quo citius morimur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+MARTYRS.
+
+    Good speed ye made, in sooth, good speed, ye blest,
+    And by a shorter course won heavenly rest;
+    Over a narrow sea of your own blood
+    Death's bark has borne you, by few gales withstood:
+    While with slow oars we toil the shore to gain,
+    Through boisterous fury of the boundless main.
+    _We_ waste with lingering, indolent decay;
+    We are Death's pastime and his wanton play;
+    O'er time and age and wide waves we are blown,
+    Expos'd to furies and to chances thrown.
+    Wretched in full are we, perish at length;
+    Fates seek us out, and try on us their strength.
+    We are Fate's skill, Evils' ambition fine,
+    Death's utmost effort and deep-plann'd design.
+    In a long life wide field for Death there lies;
+    In a short life grand deeds may daze men's eyes.[96]
+    By years we live we reckon not our life;
+    Our life is short, with great deeds be it rife.
+    To spend long years, let not long life be thought;
+    A long-liv'd deed oft in short life is wrought.
+    God not so much contracted your life's space,
+    As order'd Death the sooner to give place.
+    What earth's life loses, gains the life on high:
+    By how much sooner, so much less we die.          R. WI.
+
+
+SPES.
+
+    Spes diva, salve! diva avidam tuo
+    Necessitatem numine prorogans,
+      Vindicta fortunae furentis,
+        Una salus mediis ruinis.
+    Regina quamvis, tu solium facis
+    Depressa parvi tecta tugurii;
+      Surgit jacentes inter; illic
+        Firma magis tua regna constant.
+    Cantus catenis, carmina carcere,
+    Dolore ab ipso gaudiaque exprimis:
+      Scintilla tu vivis sub imo
+        Pectoris, haud metuens procellas.
+    Tu regna servis, copia pauperi,
+    Victis triumphus, littora naufrago,
+      Ipsisque damnatis patrona,
+        Anchora sub medio profundo.
+    Quin ipse alumnus sum tuus, ubere
+    Pendens ab isto, et hinc animam traho.
+      O Diva nutrix, o foventes
+        Pande sinus, sitiens laboro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+HOPE.
+
+        Hail, goddess Hope!
+    Who Fate remorseless movest
+    Far off, and canst with raging Fortune cope;
+    'Mid ruin thou our sole salvation provest.
+        A mighty queen,
+    Thy throne on roof-trees lowly
+    And prostrate souls is fix'd, and there are seen
+    The firm foundations of thy kingdom holy.
+        A gladsome hymn
+    From fetters disengaging,
+    And joy from grief, thou liv'st in bosom dim,
+    A spark that laughs at tempests wildly raging.
+        A crown to slaves;
+    Abundance to the needy;
+    To shipwreck'd men a refuge from the waves;
+    To conquer'd and condemn'd deliverance speedy.
+        An 'Anchor sure,'
+    The eternal Rock thou graspest,
+    The strain of ocean 'stedfast' to endure;
+    And Heaven's calm joys 'within the veil' thou claspest.
+        Nay, I thy child,
+    Dependent here adore thee:
+    From thee I draw my life, O Mother mild;
+    Open thy fostering bosom, I implore thee.         R. WI.
+
+
+{EIS TON TOU STEPHANOU STEPHANON}.
+
+    Ecce tuos lapides! nihil est pretiosius illis;
+      Seu pretium capiti dent, capiantve tuo.
+    Scilicet haec ratio vestri diadematis: hoc est,
+      Unde coronatis vos decet ire comis.
+    Quisque lapis quanto magis in se vilis habetur,
+      Ditior hoc capiti est gemma futura tuo.
+    Haec est, quae sacra didicit florere figura,
+      Non nisi per lacrymas charta videnda tuas.
+    Scilicet ah dices, haec cum spectaveris ora,
+      Ora sacer sic, o sic tulit ille pater.
+    Sperabis solitas illinc, pia fulmina, voces;
+      Sanctaque tam dulci mella venire via.
+    Sic erat illa, suas Famae cum traderet alas,
+      Ad calamum, dices, sic erat illa manus.
+    Tale erat et pectus, celsae domus ardua mentis,
+      Tale suo plenum sidere pectus erat.
+    O bene fallacis mendacia pulchra tabellae,
+      Et qui tam simili vivit in aere, labor!
+    Cum tu tot chartis vitam, Pater alme, dedisti,
+      Haec merito vitam charta dat una tibi.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON STEPHEN'S CROWN.
+
+    [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.']
+
+    Behold thy stones! more precious nought is seen,
+    Whether they deck with precious rays serene
+    Thy head, or from it take a precious glow.
+    This is your style of diadem; e'en so
+    With crowned locks 'tis seemly ye should go:
+    The viler in itself each stone may seem,
+    A richer gem upon thy head will gleam.
+    Behold the Book where, seen through mist of tears,
+    A sacred form in manhood's bloom appears.
+    Ah, you will say, when you behold this face,
+    Such looks, O such, our father us'd to grace.
+    The accustom'd sounds you hope for--holy thunder,
+    And the blest honey hid that sweet tongue under:
+    So, o'er his pen, you say, that hand was bent,
+    When her own wings to fetter'd Fame he lent.
+    Such was that breast, his spirit's lofty dwelling--
+    That breast with its own starry thoughts high swelling.
+    O pleasing fantasies of picture fair,
+    And kindred forms which laboured brass may bear!
+    Since through thee, Sire, such countless writings live,
+    Life unto thee let this one writing give.         R. WI.
+
+
+EXPOSTULATIO JESU CHRISTI
+
+CUM MUNDO INGRATO.
+
+    Sum pulcher: at nemo tamem me diligit.
+    Sum nobilis: nemo est mihi qui serviat.
+    Sum dives: a me nemo quicquam postulat.
+    Et cuncta possum: nemo me tamen timet.
+    Aeternus exsto: quaeror a paucissimis.
+    Prudensque sum: sed me quis est qui consulit?
+    Et sum Via: at per me quotusquisque ambulat?
+    Sum Veritas: quare mihi non creditur?
+    Sum Vita: verum rarus est qui me petit.
+    Sum Vera Lux: videre me nemo cupit.
+    Sum misericors: nullus fidem in me collocat.
+    Tu, si peris, non id mihi imputes, homo:
+    Salus tibi est a me parata: hac utere.[97]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+JESUS CHRIST'S EXPOSTULATION
+
+WITH AN UNGRATEFUL WORLD.
+
+    I am all-fair, yet no one loveth Me:
+    Noble, yet no one would My servant be:
+    Rich, yet no suppliant at My gate appears:
+    Almighty, yet before Me no one fears:
+    Eternal, I by very few am sought:
+    Wise am I, yet My counsel goes for nought:
+    I am the Way, yet by Me walks scarce one:
+    The Truth, why am I not relied upon?
+    The Life, yet seldom one My help requires:
+    The True Light, yet to see Me none desires:
+    And I am merciful, yet none is known
+    To place his confidence in Me alone.
+    Man, if thou perish, 'tis that thou dost choose it;
+    Salvation I have wrought for thee, O use it!      R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+I.
+
+FROM 'STEPS TO THE TEMPLE' AND 'DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES,' ETC.
+
+1646-1648.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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).
+
+    These Poems I have arranged under two classes: (_a_) Miscellaneous,
+    really, not merely formally, poetry: (_b_) 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.
+
+    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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+BULLA.
+
+
+    Quid tibi vana suos offert mea Bulla tumores?
+      Quid facit ad vestrum pondus inane meum?
+    Expectat nostros humeros toga fortior. Ista
+      En mea Bulla, lares en tua dextra mei.
+        Quid tu? quae nova machina,                             5
+        Quae tam fortuito globo
+        In vitam properas brevem?
+        Qualis virgineos adhuc
+        Cypris concutiens sinus,
+        Cypris jam nova, jam recens,                           10
+        Et spumis media in suis,
+        Promsit purpureum latus;
+        Concha de patria micas,
+        Pulchroque exsilis impetu;
+        Statim et millibus ebria                               15
+        Ducens terga coloribus
+        Evolvis tumidos sinus
+        Sphaera plena volubili.
+        Cujus per varium latus,
+        Cujus per teretem globum                               20
+        Iris lubrica cursitans
+        Centum per species vagas,
+        Et picti facies chori
+        Circum regnat, et undique,
+        Et se Diva volatilis                                   25
+        Jucundo levis impetu
+        Et vertigine perfida
+        Lasciva sequitur fuga,
+        Et pulchre dubitat; fluit
+        Tam fallax toties novis,                               30
+        Tot se per reduces vias,
+        Erroresque reciprocos
+        Spargit vena coloribus;
+        Et pompa natat ebria.
+        Tali militia micans                                    35
+        Agmen se rude dividit;
+        Campis quippe volantibus,
+        Et campi levis aequore
+        Ordo insanus obambulans
+        Passim se fugit, et fugat.                             40
+        Passim perdit, et invenit.
+        Pulchrum spargitur hic Chaos.
+        Hic viva, hic vaga flumina
+        Ripa non propria meant,
+        Sed miscent socias vias,                               45
+        Communique sub alveo
+        Stipant delicias suas.
+        Quarum proximitas vaga
+        Tam discrimine lubrico,
+        Tam subtilibus arguit                                  50
+        Juncturam tenuem notis,
+        Pompa ut florida nullibi
+        Sinceras habeat vias;
+        Nec vultu niteat suo.
+        Sed dulcis cumulus novos                               55
+        Miscens purpureus sinus
+        Flagrant divitiis suis,
+        Privatum renuens jubar.
+        Floris diluvio vagi,
+        Floris sidere publico                                  60
+        Late ver subit aureum,
+        Atque effunditur in suae
+        Vires undique copiae.
+        Nempe omnis quia cernitur,
+        Nullus cernitur hic color,                             65
+        Et vicinia contumax
+        Allidit species vagas.
+        Illic contiguis aquis
+        Marcent pallidulae faces.
+        Unde hic vena tenellulae,                              70
+        Flaminis ebria proximis
+        Discit purpureas vias,
+        Et rubro salit alveo.
+        Ostri sanguineum jubar
+        Lambunt lactea flumina;                                75
+        Suasu caerulei maris
+        Mansuescit seges aurea;
+        Et lucis faciles genae
+        Vanas ad nebulas stupent;
+        Subque uvis rubicundulis                               80
+        Flagrant sobria lilia;
+        Vicinis adeo rosis
+        Vicinae invigilant nives;
+        Ut sint et niveae rosae,
+        Ut sunt et roseae nives,                               85
+        Accenduntque rosae nives,
+        Extinguuntque nives rosas.
+        Illic cum viridi rubet,
+        Hic et cum rutile viret,
+        Lascivi facies chori.                                  90
+        Et quicquid rota lubrica
+        Caudae stelligerae notat,
+        Pulchrum pergit et in ambitum.
+        Hic coeli implicitus labor,
+        Orbes orbibus obvii;                                   95
+        ex velleris aurei,
+        Grex pellucidus aetheris;
+        Qui noctis nigra pascua
+        Puris morsibus atterit;
+        Hic quicquid nitidum et vagum                         100
+        Coeli vibrat arenula,
+        Dulci pingitur in joco;
+        Hic mundus tener impedit
+        Sese amplexibus in suis.
+        Succinctique sinu globi                               105
+        Errat per proprium decus.
+        Hic nictant subitae faces,
+        Et ludunt tremulum diem,
+        Mox se surripiunt sui et
+        Quaerunt tecta supercili,                             110
+        Atque abdunt petulans jubar,
+        Subsiduntque proterviter.
+        Atque haec omnia quam brevis
+        Sunt mendacia machinae!
+        Currunt scilicet omnia                                115
+        Sphaera, non vitrea quidem--
+        Ut quondam Siculus globus--
+        Sed vitro nitida magis,
+        Sed vitro fragili magis,
+        Et vitro vitrea magis.                                120
+          Sum venti ingenium breve,
+        Flos sum, scilicet, aeris,
+        Sidus scilicet aequoris;
+        Naturae jocus aureus,
+        Naturae vaga fabula,                                  125
+        Naturae breve somnium.
+        Nugarum decus et dolor;
+        Dulcis doctaque vanitas.
+        Aurae filia perfidae;
+        Et risus facilis parens.                              130
+        Tantum gutta superbior,
+        Fortunatius et lutum.
+          Sum fluxae pretium spei;
+        Una ex Hesperidum insulis.
+        Formae pyxis, amantium                                135
+        Clare caecus ocellulus;
+        Vanae et cor leve gloriae.
+          Sum caecae speculum Deae,
+        Sum Fortunae ego tessera,
+        Quam dat militibus suis;                              140
+        Sum Fortunae ego symbolum,
+        Quo sancit fragilem fidem
+        Cum mortalibus ebriis,
+        Obsignatque tabellulas.
+          Sum blandum, petulans, vagum,                       145
+        Pulchrum, purpureum, et decens,
+        Comptum, floridulum, et recens,
+        Distinctum nivibus, rosis,
+        Undis, ignibus, aere,
+        Pictum, gemmeum, et aureum,                           150
+        O sum, scilicet, o NIHIL.
+    Si piget, et longam traxisse in taedia pompam
+      Vivax, et nimium Bulla videtur anus:
+    Tolle tuos oculos pensum leve defluet, illam
+      Parca metet facili non operosa manu.                    155
+    Vixit adhuc. Cur vixit? adhuc tu nempe legebas.
+      Nempe fuit tempus tum potuisse mori?
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    A collation of the 'Bulla' with the Tanner MS. 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.     G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. THE BUBBLE. [TO REV. DR. LANY.]
+
+    What art thou? What new device,
+    Globe, chance-fashion'd in a trice,
+    Into brief existence bounding,
+    Perfectly thy circle rounding?
+    As when Cypris, her breast smiting--
+    Virgin still, all love inviting--
+    Cypris in young loveliness
+    Couch'd rosy where the white waves press
+    Her to bear and her to bless;
+    _So_ forth from thy native shell
+    Gleamest thou ineffable!
+    Springing up with graceful bound
+    And describing dainty round;
+    Thousand colours come and go
+    As thou dost thy fair curves show,
+    Swelling out--a whirling ball
+    Meet for Fairy-Festival;
+    Through whose sides of shifting hue,
+    Through whose smooth-turn'd globe, we view
+    Iris' gliding rainbow sitting,
+    In a hundred forms soft-flitting:
+    And semblance of a troop displaying,
+    All around dominion swaying:
+    And the Goddess volatile
+    With witching step and luring smile
+    Follows still with twinkling foot
+    In link'd mazes involute:
+    With many a sight-deceiving turn
+    And flight which makes pursuers burn,
+    And a graceful hesitation--
+    Only treacherous simulation:
+    JUST SO, and no less deceiving,
+    Our BUBBLE, all its colours weaving,
+    Follows ever-varying courses,
+    Or in air itself disperses:
+    Here now, there now, coming, going,
+    Wand'ring as if ebbing, flowing:
+    Sporting Passion's colours all
+    In ways that are bacchanal;
+    And the GLOBES undisciplin'd
+    As though driven by the wind,
+    Borne along the fleeting plains
+    Light as air; nor order reigns--
+    But the heaven-possess'd array
+    Moving each in its own way,
+    Hither now and thither flying,
+    Glancing, wavering, and dying,
+    Losing still their path and finding,
+    In a random inter-winding:
+    Rising, falling, on careering,
+    Vis'ble now, now disappearing;
+    Living wand'ring streams outgoing,
+    Ev'n Confusion beauteous showing:
+    Flowing not each in its course,
+    But each to other joining force;
+    Moving in pleasant pastime still
+    In a mutual good-will:
+    And a nearness that's so near
+    You the contact almost fear,
+    Yet so finely drawn to eye
+    In its delicate subtlety
+    That the procession, blossom-fair,
+    Nowhere has direction clear:
+    Nor with their own aspect glance,
+    But in the sweet luxuriance
+    Which skiey influences lend,
+    As in new windings on they trend:
+    Throwing off the stol'n sunlight
+    In a flood of blossoms bright,
+    Scatter'd on the fields of light;
+    Such a brilliancy of bloom
+    As all may share if all will come.
+    Now golden Spring advances lightly,
+    Spreading itself on all sides brightly,
+    Out of its rich and full supply
+    Open-handed, lavishly.
+      Since all colours you discern,
+    No one colour may you learn:
+    All tints melted into one
+    In a sweet confusion,
+    You cannot tell 'tis that or this,
+    So shifting is the loveliness:
+    Gleams as of the peacock's crest,
+    Or such as on dove's neck rest;
+    Opal, edg'd with amethyst,
+    Or the sunset's purpl'd mist,
+    Or the splendour that there lies
+    In a maiden's azure eyes,
+    Kindling in a sweet surprise:
+    Flower-tints, shell-tints, tender-dy'd,
+    Save to curious unespied:
+    Lo, one BUBBLE follows t'other,
+    Differing still from its frail brother,
+    Striking still from change to change
+    With a quick and vivid range.
+    There in the contiguous wave
+    Torches palely-glist'ning lave;
+    Here what delicate love-lights shine!
+    Through them near flames bick'ring shine.
+    Matching flushing of the rose,
+    As the ruddy channel flows:
+    Milky rivers in white tide
+    Lucent, hush, still onwards glide:
+    Purple rivers in high flood--
+    Red as is man's awful blood:
+    Corn-fields smiling goldenly
+    Meet the blue laugh of the sea:
+    Mist-clouds sailing on their way
+    Darken the changeful cheeks of Day:
+    And beneath vine-clusters red
+    Lilies are transfigured:
+    Here you mark as 'twere the snows
+    Folding o'er the neighb'ring rose;
+    Snow into blown roses flushing,
+    Roses wearied of their blushing,
+    As the shifting tints embrace,
+    And their course you scarce can trace;
+    Now retiring, now advancing,
+    Now in wanton mazes dancing;
+    Now a flow'ry red appears,
+    Now a purpl'd green careers.
+      All the signs in heaven that burn
+    Where the gliding wheel doth turn,
+    Here in radiant courses go,
+    As though 'twere a heaven below:
+    The sky's mazes involute
+    Circling onward with deft foot,
+    Sphere on heavenly sphere attending,
+    Coming, going, inter-blending:
+    And the gold-fleec'd flocks of air
+    Wand'ring inviolate and fair;
+    Flocks that drink in chaste delight
+    Dewy pastures of the Night,
+    Leaving no trace of foot or bite.
+    Whate'er of change above you note,
+    As these clouds o'er heaven float,
+    Lo, repeated here we see
+    In a sportive mimicry.
+      Here the tiny tender world
+    Within its own brightness furl'd
+    Wavers, as in fairy robe
+    'Twere a belted lined globe.
+    Lights as of the breaking Day
+    Tremble with iridescent play,
+    But now swiftly upward going,
+    Evanescent colours showing,
+    In some nook their beams concealing,
+    Nor their wantonness revealing.
+    O, what store of wonders here
+    In this short-liv'd slender SPHERE!
+    For all wonders I have told
+    Are within its GLOBE enroll'd:
+    Not such globe as skilled he
+    Fashion'd of old in Sicily:
+    Brighter e'en than crystals are,
+    And than crystal frailer far.
+      'I am Spirit of the Wind,
+    For a flitting breath design'd;
+    I am Blossom born of air;
+    I'm of Ocean, guiding Star;
+    I'm a golden sport of Nature,
+    Frolic stamp'd on ev'ry feature:
+    I'm a myth, an idle theme,
+    The brief substance of a dream:
+    Grace and grief of trifles, I
+    Charm--a well-skill'd vanity;
+    Begotten of the treacherous breeze,
+    Parent of absurdities:
+    Yet, a drop or mote, at best,
+    Favour'd more than are the rest.
+    I'm price of Hope that no more is,
+    One of the Hesperides:
+    Beauty's casket, doating eye
+    Of lovers blinded wilfully:
+    The light Spirit of Vanity.
+    I am Fortune's looking-glass,
+    The countersign which she doth pass
+    To her troop of warriors:
+    I'm the oath by which she swears,
+    And wherewith she doth induce
+    Men to trust a fragile truce.
+    Charming, provoking, still astray,
+    Fair and elegant and gay,
+    Trim and fresh and blossom-hu'd;
+    Interchangeably imbu'd
+    With rosy-red and the snow's whiteness,
+    Air and water and fire's brightness:
+    Painted, gemm'd, of golden dye,
+    NOTHING--after all--am I!'
+    If now, O gentle Reader, it appear
+      Irksome my BUBBLE'S chatterings to hear;
+    If on it frowning, 'Words, words, words!' thou say,
+      No more I'll chatter, but at once obey.
+    So, turn thine eye, my Friend, no more give heed;
+      My BUBBLE lives but if thou choose to read.
+    Cease thou to read, and I resign my breath;
+      Cease thou to read, and that will be my death.      G.
+
+
+TRANQUILLITAS ANIMI:
+
+SIMILITUDINE DUCTA AB AVE CAPTIVA, ET CANORA TAMEN.
+
+    Ut cum delicias leves, loquacem
+    Convivam nemoris vagamque musam
+    Observans, dubia viator arte
+    Prendit desuper: horridusve ruris
+    Eversor, male perfido paratu,                               5
+    Heu durus! rapit, atque io triumphans
+    Vadit: protinus et sagace nisu
+    Evolvens digitos, opus tenellum
+    Ducens pollice lenis erudito,
+    Virgarum implicat ordinem severum,                         10
+    Angustam meditans domum volucri.
+    Illa autem, hospitium licet vetustum
+    Mentem solicitet nimis nimisque,
+    Et suetum nemus, hinc opaca mitis
+    Umbrae frigora, et hinc aprica puri                        15
+    Solis fulgura, patriaeque sylvae
+    Nunquam muta quies; ubi illa dudum
+    Totum per nemus, arborem per omnem,
+    Hospes libera liberis querelis
+    Cognatum bene provocabat agmen:                            20
+    Quanquam ipsum nemus arboresque alumnam
+    Implorant profugam, atque amata multum
+    Quaerant murmura lubricumque carmen
+    Blandi gutturis et melos serenum.
+    Illa autem, tamen, illa jam relictae,                      25
+    Simplex! haud meminit domus, nec ultra
+    Sylvas cogitat; at brevi sub antro,
+    Ah penna nimium brevis recisa,
+    Ah ritu vidua sibique sola,
+    Privata heu fidicen! canit, vagoque                        30
+    Exercens querulam domum susurro
+    Fallit vincula, carceremque mulcet;
+    Nec pugnans placidae procax quieti
+    Luctatur gravis, orbe sed reducto
+    Discursu vaga saltitans tenello,                           35
+    Metitur spatia invidae cavernae.
+    Sic in se pia mens reposta, secum
+    Alte tuta sedet, nec ardet extra,
+    Aut ullo solet aestuare fato:
+    Quamvis cuncta tumultuentur, atrae                         40
+    Sortis turbine non movetur illa.
+    Fortunae furias onusque triste
+    Non tergo minus accipit quieto,
+    Quam vectrix Veneris columba blando
+    Admittat juga delicata collo.                              45
+    Torvae si quid inhorruit procellae,
+    Si quid saeviat et minetur, illa
+    Spernit, nescit, et obviis furorem
+    Fallit blanditiis, amatque et ambit
+    Ipsum, quo male vulneratur, ictum.                         50
+    Curas murmure non fatetur ullo;
+    Non lambit lacrymas dolor, nec atrae
+    Mentis nubila frons iniqua prodit.
+    Quod si lacryma pervicax rebelli
+    Erumpit tamen evolatque gutta,                             55
+    Invitis lacrymis, negante luctu,
+    Ludunt perspicui per ora risus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION. PEACE OF MIND:[98]
+
+UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A CAPTIVE SONG-BIRD.
+
+    The time of the singing of birds is come;
+    I will away i' the greenwood to roam;
+    I will away; and thou azure-ey'd Muse
+    Deign with thy gifts my mind to suffuse.--
+      So o'erheard I one say, as he withdrew
+    To a fairy scene that well I knew,
+    Light lac'd with shadow, shadow with light,
+    Leaves playing bo-peep from morn unto night.
+      But, ah, what is this? Alas, and alas,
+    A sweet bird flutters upon the grass;
+    Flutters and struggles with quivering wing!
+    Tempted and snar'd--gentle, guileless thing.
+    Vain, vain thy struggles; for, lo, a hand
+    Hollow'd above, makes thee captive stand.
+      Home hies the Captor, loud singing his joy;
+    He has got a pet song-bird for his boy.
+    Now twining and twisting, a cage he makes
+    Wire-wrought and fast'n'd. Ah, my heart aches!
+    It is a prison, for the poor bird prepar'd;
+    Shut close and netted, netted and barr'd.
+      Comes the flutter and gleam of forest-leaves
+    Through the trellis'd window under the eaves;
+    Comes the breath and stir of the vernal wind,
+    Comes the goldening sunshine--to remind
+    Of all that is lost; comes now and again
+    Far off a song from the blading grain;
+    Calling, still calling the Songster to come
+    Back--once more back--to its woodland home.
+      I mark eyelids rise; mark the lifting wing;
+    Mark the swelling throat, as if it would sing;
+    Mark the weary 'chirp, chirp,' like infant's cry,
+    Yearning after the free and boundless sky;
+    For the grand old woods; once more to sit
+    On the swinging bough into blossom smit.
+      Vain, vain, poor bird! thou'rt captive still;
+    Thou must bend thee to thy Captor's will:
+    Thy wing is cut; from thy mate thou'rt taken;
+    All alone thou abidest, sad, forsaken.
+      The days pass on; and I look in once more
+    On the captive bird 'bove the ivied door.
+    Sweetly it sings, as if all by itself,
+    A short, quiet song. O thou silly elf,
+    Hast forgot the greenwood, the forest hoar,
+    The flash of the sky, the wind's soften'd roar?
+    Hast forgot that thou still a captive art,
+    Prison'd in wire-work? hast forgot thy smart?
+      'Tis even so: for now down, and now up,
+    Now hopping on perch, now sipping from cup,
+    I mark it sullen and pining no more,
+    But keeping within, though open the door.
+    List ye, now list--from its swelling throat,
+    Of its woodland song you miss never a note.
+    Alone, it is true, and in a wir'd cage;
+    But kindness has melted the captive's rage.
+      Behold a sweet meaning in this bird's story--
+    How the child of God is ripen'd for glory:
+    For it is thus with the child of God,
+    Smitten and bleeding 'neath His rod:
+    Thus 'tis with him; for, tranquil and calm
+    'Mid dangers and insults, he singeth his psalm:
+    Alone, all alone, deserted of man,
+    Slander'd and trampl'd and plac'd under ban,
+    He frets not, he pines not, he plains not still,
+    But sees clear in all his dear Father's will:
+    Come loss, come cross, come bereavement, come wrong,
+    He sets all to music, turns all to song;
+    Come terror, come trial, come dark day, come bright,
+    Still upward he looks, and knows all is right:
+    Wounded, he sees the Hand gives the stroke,
+    Bending his neck to bear his Lord's yoke,
+    And finds it grow light, by grace from Above,
+    As love's slender collars o' the Queen of Love;
+    Comes the starting tear, 'tis dried with a smile;
+    Comes a cloud, as you look 'tis gone the while;
+    Stirs the 'old Adam' to tempt and to dare,
+    He thinks Who was tempted and knows what we are;
+    Gentle and meek, murmurs not nor rebels,
+    But serene as in heaven and tranquil dwells:
+    And so the Believer has 'songs in the night,'
+    And so every cloud has a lining of light.
+      Thus, even thus, the captive bird's story
+      Tells how a soul is ripen'd for glory.              G.
+
+
+DAMNO AFFICI SAEPE FIT LUCRUM.
+
+    Damna adsunt multis taciti compendia lucri,
+      Felicique docent plus properare mora.
+    Luxuriem annorum posita sic pelle redemit,
+      Atque sagax serpens in nova saecla subit.
+    Cernis ut ipsa sibi replicato suppetat aevo,
+      Seque iteret multa morte perennis avis?
+    Succrescit generosa sibi, facilesque per ignes
+      Perque suos cineres, per sua fata ferax.
+    Quae sollers jactura sui? quis funeris usus?
+      Flammarumque fides ingeniumque rogi?
+    Siccine fraude subis? pretiosaque funera ludis?
+      Siccine tu mortem, ne moriaris, adis?
+    Felix cui medicae tanta experientia mortis,
+      Cui tam Parcarum est officiosa manus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+GAIN OUT OF LOSS.
+
+    Losses are often source of secret gain,
+    Delays good-speed, and ease the child of pain.
+    The subtle snake, laying aside her fears,
+    Casts off her slough, and heals the waste of years.
+    The phoenix thus her waning pride supplies,
+    And, to be ever-living, often dies;
+    Bold for her good, she makes the fires her friend,
+    And to begin anew, will plot her end.
+    What skilful losing! what wise use of dying!
+    What trust in flames! and what a craft in plying
+    That trick of immolation! Canst thou so
+    Compound with griefs? canst wisely undergo
+    Life's losses, crosses? play with gainful doom?
+    Canst, to be quicken'd, gladly seek the tomb?
+    Thrice-happy he thus touch'd with healing sorrow,
+    For whom night's strife plots but a gracious morrow.  A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Suff'ring is not always loss;
+    Often underneath the cross--
+    Heavy, crushing, wearing, slow,
+    Causing us in dread to go--
+    All unsuspected lieth gain,
+    Like sunshine in vernal rain.
+      Lo, the serpent's mottled skin
+    Cast, new lease of years doth win:
+    Lo, the phoenix in the fire
+    Leaps immortal from its pyre,
+    The mystic plumage mewing,
+    And life by death renewing.
+    What a wise loss thus to lose!--
+    Who will gainsay or abuse?
+    What strange end to fun'ral pile,
+    Thus in Death's gaunt face to smile!
+    Faith still strong within the fire,
+    Faith triumphant o'er its ire.
+      How stands it, fellow-man, with thee?
+    What meaning in this myth dost see?
+    Happy thou, if when thou'rt lying
+    On thy sick-bed slow a-dying,
+    Cometh vision of the Eternal,
+    Cometh strength for the supernal,
+    Cometh triumph o'er the infernal;
+    And thou canst the Last Enemy
+    Calmly meet, serenely die;
+    The hard Sisters life's web snipping,
+    But thy spirit never gripping;
+    Good, not evil, to thee bringing;
+    Hushing not thy upward singing,
+    To the Golden City winging.
+      Even so to die is gain,
+    Like the Harvest's tawnied grain:
+    Suffering is not always loss;
+    The Crown succeeds the Cross.                         G.
+
+
+HUMANAE VITAE DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    O vita, tantum lubricus quidam furor
+    Spoliumque vitae! scilicet longi brevis
+    Erroris hospes! Error o mortalium!
+    O certus error! qui sub incerto vagum
+    Suspendit aevum, mille per dolos viae                       5
+    Fugacis, et proterva per volumina
+    Fluidi laboris, ebrios lactat gradus;
+    Et irretitos ducit in nihilum dies.
+    O fata! quantum perfidae vitae fugit
+    Umbris quod imputemus atque auris, ibi                     10
+    Et umbra et aura serias partes agunt
+    Miscentque scenam, volvimur ludibrio
+    Procacis aestus, ut per incertum mare
+    Fragilis protervo cymba cum nutat freto;
+    Et ipsa vitae fila, queis nentes Deae                      15
+    Aevi severa texta producunt manu,
+    Haec ipsa nobis implicant vestigia,
+    Retrahunt trahuntque, donec everso gradu
+    Ruina lassos alta deducat pedes.
+    Felix, fugaces quisquis excipiens dies                     20
+    Gressus serenos fixit, insidiis sui
+    Nec servit aevi, vita inoffensis huic
+    Feretur auris, atque clauda rarius
+    Titubabit hora: vortices anni vagi
+    Hic extricabit, sanus assertor sui.                        25
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE.
+
+    O Life, or but some evanescent madness
+    And glittering spoil of life snatch'd with blind gladness!
+    Of endless Error, transitory guest;
+    Sad human Error, which would fain find rest.
+    O certain Error, 'neath uncertain sky
+    Suspending here our frail mortality;
+    Leading us through a thousand devious ways
+    And intricacies of a treacherous maze!
+    Our staggering footsteps how dost thou beguile
+    Through wanton rounds of unavailing toil,
+    And our entangl'd days to nothing bring!
+    O fates, how much of our poor life takes wing,
+    Wasted on winds and shadows! On life's stage
+    Shadows and winds a serious part engage,
+    The scene confusing. On life's billow tost,
+    The sport of changeful tide, we're well-nigh lost,
+    And, like a frail boat on a stormy sea,
+    We waver up and down uncertainly.
+    Nay, e'en the threads spun by the Fates on high,
+    As with stern fingers they divinely ply
+    The web of life, twine round us as we go,
+    And draw us backwards, forwards, to and fro;
+    Till Ruin trips us up, and we are found
+    Helpless and weary, stretched along the ground.
+      Happy the man who, welcoming each day
+    With smiles that answer to its fleeting ray,
+    Pursues with step serene his purpos'd way;
+    The alluring snares peculiar to the age
+    _His_ soul enslave not, nor his mind engage;
+    His life with peaceful tenor glides along,
+    By fav'ring breezes fann'd, and sooth'd with song;
+    Inspir'd by Heaven with soul-sustaining force,
+    Seldom he falls, or falters in his course;
+    But ever, as the eddying years roll round,
+    Bursting through all the perils that abound,
+    A wise assertor of himself is found.              R. WI.
+
+
+IN PYGMALIONA.
+
+              Poenitet artis
+              Pygmaliona suae,
+    Quod felix opus esset,
+    Infelix erat artifex;
+    Sentit vulnera, nec videt ictum.
+    Quis credit? gelido veniunt de marmore flammae:
+    Marmor ingratum nimis
+    Incendit autorem suum.
+    Concepit hic vanos furores,
+    Opus suum miratur atque adorat.
+    Prius creavit, ecce nunc colit manus;
+    Tentantes digitos molliter applicat;
+    Decipit molles caro dura tactus.
+    An virgo vera est, an sit eburnea;
+    Reddat an oscula quae dabantur,
+    Nescit; sed dubitat, sed metuit, munere supplicat,
+    Blanditiasque miscet.
+    Te, miser, poenas dare vult, hos Venus, hos triumphos
+    Capit a te, quod amorem fugis omnem.
+    Cur fugis heu vivos? mortua te necat puella.
+    Non erit innocua haec, quamvis tua fingas manu;
+    Ipsa heu nocens erit nimis, cujus imago nocet.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON PYGMALION.
+
+      Grief for work his hands have done
+      Harroweth Pygmalion;
+      Happy reach of art! yet he
+      The artificer, unhappily,
+    He feels the wounds: what deals the blow?
+    Can it be true? can flames from gelid marble flow?
+
+      Marble, treacherous and to blame
+      To burn your Sculptor with such flame!
+      What madness in his heart is hid?
+    He wonders at, he adores the work he did.
+      First he made, and next his hand
+      With wandering fingers softly tries
+      The mystery to understand.
+      Ah, surely now the hard flesh lies!
+    Is it a living maiden, see!
+      O treacherous blisses!
+    Is it no marble? can it frail flesh be?
+      Does it return his kisses?
+    He knows not, he.
+
+      He doubts, he fears, he prays; what mean
+    All these sweet blandishments between?
+    Venus, wretched Sculptor, wills
+    You should suffer these sad ills;
+    This is her triumph over you,
+      Because at love your lips would curl;
+    Your will not living overthrows yet this dead girl.
+
+    Weep, ah, weep, Pygmalion!
+      Though you shap'd her with your hands,
+    With your chisel, out of stone,
+      Not innocuous here she stands.
+      O image of a maiden!
+    If you so strangely baneful prove,
+      With what despair will you come laden,
+    Coming alive to claim his love!                       A.
+
+ANOTHER VERSION (_more freely_).
+
+    Pygmalion mourns his own success;
+    Was ever such strange wretchedness?
+    His work itself, a work of Art,
+    Perfect in its every part;
+    But himself? Alas, artist he
+    Of his own utmost misery.
+    He feels his wounds, but who shall tell
+    Whence come the drops that downward steal?
+    Flames leap out from the marble, cold
+    As ice itself by storm-wind roll'd:
+    And he, contriver of that fire,
+    Burns self-immolate on his own pyre;
+    Furies of his own genius born
+    Cast him, adoring and forlorn,
+    Into a strange captivity
+    Before his own hands' work; and he
+    Clings to the shapely form, until,
+    In ecstasy of love a-thrill,
+    He burning lips to cold lips sets,
+    And wild with passion her cheek wets;
+    Strains to his breast insensate stone,
+    As 'twere a breathing thing; with moan,
+    With clasp and grasp and tingling touch,
+    As though he ne'er could grip too much;
+    And wilder'd cry of agony,
+    That she respond would; by him lie
+    A virgin pure as drifted snow,
+    Or lilies that i' the meadows blow.
+    Is it ivory? is it stone?
+    Lives it? or is it clay alone?
+    O that to flesh the stone would melt,
+    And show a soul within it dwelt!
+      He looks, he yearns, he sighs, he sobs,
+    Convulsive his whole body throbs;
+    He doubts, he fears, he supplicates
+    With wistful gaze; he on her waits;
+    Gifts lavish he lays at her feet,
+    And, stung to passion, will entreat,
+    As though the image he has made
+    Were thing of life he might persuade--
+    Persuade and woo, and on her stake
+    His future, all. O sad mistake!
+    For thee, Pygmalion, Venus sends
+    These triumphs which thy chisel lends,
+    To punish thee, for that no love
+    Erewhile thy obstinate heart might move.
+      Why flee'st thou the living, say,
+    When this image thee doth slay?
+    Thee doth--ay, slay! Why dost thou stand
+    Entranc'd before the work o' thy hand,
+    None the less hurtful that it is
+    Thine own genius yields the bliss?
+    Venus must thee still deny;
+    The sculptured maid must breathless lie.              G.
+
+
+ARION.
+
+    Squammea vivae
+    Lubrica terga ratis
+    Jam conscendet Arion.
+    Merces tam nova solvitur
+    Navis quam nova scanditur. Illa
+    Aerea est merces, haec est et aquatica navis.
+    Perdidere illum viri
+    Mercede magna, servat hic
+    Mercede nulla piscis: et sic
+    Salute plus ruina constat illi;
+    Minoris et servatur hinc quam perditur.
+    Hic dum findit aquas, findit hic aera:
+    Cursibus, piscis; digitis, Arion:
+    Et sternit undas, sternit et aera:
+    Carminis hoc placido Tridente
+    Abjurat sua jam murmura, ventusque modestior
+    Auribus ora mutat:
+    Ora dediscit, minimos et metuit susurros;
+    Sonus alter restat, ut fit sonus illis
+    Aura strepens circum muta sit lateri adjacente penna,
+    Ambit et ora viri, nec vela ventis hic egent;
+    Attendit hanc ventus ratem: non trahit, at trahitur.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ARION.
+
+    Never since ship was set a-float
+    Have men seen so strange a boat:
+    Alive it is from deck to keel,
+    Having the gray gleam of steel;
+    Slippery as wave-wash'd wreck,
+    Or as a war-ship's bloody deck.
+    A Dolphin, lo, its huge back bending,
+    Safety to Arion lending
+    From the sailors of Sicily,
+    Covetous of his golden monie;
+    Money that as prize he had won
+    Before all Singers aneath the sun;
+    Playing and singing so famouslie,
+    Singing and playing so wondrouslie,
+    That there went up from ev'ry throat
+    The verdict, 'for Arion I vote:'
+    Vote the prize; and gifts as well,
+    Crowns of gold and of asphodel;
+    Lyres all a-glow with gems,
+    Robes bejewell'd to their hems;
+    A thousand golden pieces and one
+    For the gifted son of Poseidon:
+    And, hark, as 'twere the bellowing thunder,
+    In clang'rous shouts men tell their wonder.
+      Arion now homeward takes his way
+    In a fair ship steer'd for Corinth Bay;
+    Proud of his prizes, proud of his skill,
+    Proud that soon Periander will
+    Welcome him fondly, and call him friend,
+    With words such as no money can send.
+      Alas and alas, such crime to tell!
+    The ship-captain and sailors fell
+    Covet his gold, and have it must,
+    Though Arion they murder by blow or thrust.
+      But Apollo at midnight hour
+    Sendeth a dream in mystic power;
+    It showeth the men, it showeth their crime.
+    Arion awakes with the morning's chime;
+    Awakes, and planneth how to escape.
+    Vain, vain all; on him they gape,
+    Thirsting alike for gold and life,
+    Murder and covetousness at strife.
+      'Suffer me, then,' Arion said,
+    'That I may play as I have play'd;
+    Here is my poor Lyre, and, ere I die,
+    Let me prove its minstrelsy.'
+      He has donn'd him now in gay attire,
+    Festal robes; in his hand his Lyre.
+    List ye, list ye; above, below,
+    Sounds such as only the angels know;
+    Sounds that are born of rapture and bliss,
+    Of the throbbing heart and the burning love-kiss.
+    Now it is soft, pathetic, low,
+    Then 'gins to change to cry of woe;
+    Now it comes rushing as if the thunder
+    Came booming from the deep earth under;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing,
+    And Arion's hand had so cunning a spell
+    As should win all heaven--ay and hell.
+    O, came there never such melodie
+    From mortal earth or mortal sky.
+    He mounted to the good ship's prow,
+    And mingling with his song a vow
+    To the gods, he himself threw
+    Out 'mid the waves from that damnable crew.
+      Up through the waves the Dolphins bound,
+    A hundred bended backs are found,
+    Each one more eager than the rest
+    To upbear the sweet Player on Ocean's breast.
+      Arion ascends; and, lo, he stands,
+    His Lyre unwet within his hands:
+    Onward and onward careering they go;
+    O soft and true the notes that flow!
+    Rising, falling, swelling, dying,
+    Near and nearer, far-off flying;
+    Pulsing along each quivering string
+    As though the Lyre were a living thing.
+      New is the ship, as new the freight;
+    The Dolphin feels never the weight;
+    New is the ship, and new the fare,
+    That of the water, this of the air:
+    The sailors in their greed him lost,
+    The Dolphin bears him withouten cost.
+      Away and away with a shim'ring track
+    Arion goes on the Dolphin's back;
+    Away and away, still softly playing,
+    Each string his lightest touch obeying.
+    Under the spell the Sea grows calm,
+    Listing attent his witching psalm;
+    Under the spell the air grows mild,
+    Breathing soft as sleeping child.
+        But who may seek all the tale to tell?
+        It is a tale unspeakable.
+      Onward and onward careering they go,
+    Silence above and silence below:
+    The Storm-gale shuts its mouth and lists,
+    The Wind folds its pinions and desists,
+    Following, not blowing, drawing not, but drawn,
+    From early ev'ning to breaking dawn.
+    Tenarus at last Arion beheld;
+    Tenarus, his own dear home that held;
+    And as together they swiftly come,
+    He claps hands loud and thinks of home.
+      The Dolphin seeks a quiet cove;
+    The Dolphin arching its back above
+    The azure waters, leaves him there,
+    A-list'ning still his Lyre to hear.
+      Homeward to Corinth Arion proceeds:
+    Periander a tale of suff'ring reads
+    In the thinned cheek and the dreamy eye,
+    In the tremulous words and the laden sigh.
+      The story is told. O story of wrong!
+    The ship returns; and it is not long
+    Ere captain and crew, at bar arraign'd,
+    Must tell where Arion they detain'd.
+    'He tarries,' quoth they, 'in Sicily,
+    Winning all men by his minstrelsie.'
+      Lies were proven in their throat.
+    Periander his hands together smote,
+    Swearing a solemn oath that they--
+    One, all--should drown'd be in the Bay.
+      Tied hand and foot, pallor'd and grim,
+    'Tis done as they would ha' done to him.
+    A plunge as of a plunging stone,
+    A few bubbles--Vengeance is done!                  G.
+
+
+
+
+IN
+
+APOLLINEA DEPEREUNTEM DAPHNEN.
+
+
+    Stulte Cupido,
+    Quid tua flamma parat?
+    Annos sole sub ipso
+    Accensae pereunt faces?
+    Sed fax nostra potentior istis,
+    Flammas inflammare potest, ipse uritur ignis,
+    Ecce flammarum potens
+    Majore sub flamma gemit.
+    Eheu, quid hoc est? En Apollo
+    Lyra tacente, ni sonet dolores,
+    Coma jacente squallet aeternus decor
+    Oris, en, dominae quo placeat magis,
+    Languido tardum jubar igne promit.
+    Pallente vultu territat aethera.
+    Mundi oculus lacrymis senescit,
+    Et solvit pelago debita, quodque hauserat ignibus,
+    His lacrymis rependit.
+    Noctis adventu properans se latebris recondit,
+    Et opacas tenebrarum colit umbras,
+    Namque suos odit damnans radios nocensque lumen.
+    An lateat tenebris dubitat, an educat diem,
+    Hinc suadet hoc luctus furens, inde repugnat amor.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+ON APOLLO PINING FOR DAPHNE.
+
+    Cupid, foolishest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets!
+    Surely before the flashing Sun
+    Torches pale to extinction?
+    But our torch is mightier far;
+    It able is 'gainst fire to war,
+    Yea, fire itself to burn and char.
+      The igni-potent in amaze,
+    Lo, groans, his huge heart all a-blaze
+    With keener flame than his own rays.
+      Ah, what is this? Apollo burns,
+    And as distraught in anguish mourns.
+    Lo, see his lyre mute and unstrung,
+    Or only grief-notes from it wrung:
+    Lo, his golden locks neglected,
+    And his radiant face dejected;
+    Beauty eterne distain'd, rejected.
+      The great Sun-god is in love,
+    And seeks in vain his Fair to move:
+    Hence his weird pallor, and those cries
+    That the sky shudd'ring terrifies;
+    Hence the world's day-bringing eye
+    Tears dim, such as in mortals' lie;
+    Hence those showers often falling,
+    The Sea her erst gifts recalling;
+    Hence welcome the approaching night,
+    That mourning he may veil his light--
+    Veil his light, and in shadows deep
+    His great anguish in secret weep.
+    Nor, when vermeil-draped Morning,
+    With her smile the East adorning,
+    Touches with her rosy finger
+    Eyes that 'neath their lashes linger,
+    Seeking to wake the God of Day,
+    That round the world his beams may play,
+    Does he haste at all to rise
+    To his 'fulgent throne i' the skies;
+    But rather would abide within
+    The clouds whereon he rests his chin;
+    Hating his own beams' splendour now,
+    Since Daphne scorns to list his vow:
+    Thus he lingers, and still weighs
+    Whether Day or Night to raise.
+    Raging grief he cannot smother,
+    Says the one; and Love the other.
+    Cupid, tricksiest of pets,
+    What woe thy swift-sent flame begets![99]             G.
+
+
+
+
+AENEAS PATRIS SUI BAJULUS.
+
+
+    Moenia Trojae, hostis et ignis,
+    Hostes inter et ignes, Aeneas spolium pium
+    Atque humeris venerabile pondus
+    Excipit, et 'Saevae nunc o nunc parcite flammae;
+    Parcite haud, clamat, mihi;
+    Sacrae favete sarcinae:
+    Quod si negatis, nec licebit
+    Vitam juvare, sed juvabo funus
+    Rogusque fiam patris ac bustum mei.'
+    His dictis, acies pervolat hostium,
+    Gestit, et partis veluti trophaeis
+    Ducit triumphos. Nam furor hostium
+    Jam stupet, et pietate tanta
+    Victor vincitur; imo et moritur
+    Troja libenter, funeribusque gaudet,
+    Ac faces admittit ovans, ne lateat tenebras
+    Per opacas opus ingens pietatis.
+    Debita sic patri solvis tua, sic pari rependis
+    Officio. Dederat vitam tibi, tu reddis huic:
+    Felix, parentis qui pater diceris esse tui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_full_).
+
+AENEAS THE BEARER OF HIS FATHER.
+
+    The walls of Troy--the walls of Troy!
+    'Tis an old tale you will enjoy:
+    A foe is there amid the fire,
+    A foe 'twixt foemen in their ire.
+      Aeneas takes a pious load
+    With upward prayer to his god;
+    E'en his old father, whose gray head
+    Lay 'mong the dying and the dead:
+    O venerable spoil in truth,
+    Fit from the demons to fetch ruth.
+      Fierce roar the flames, and fiercer still
+    Rages the fight on plain and hill.
+    'Spare the old man,' Aeneas cries;
+    'Spare the white hairs; or if he dies,
+    Be mine the privilege of his pyre;
+    Be mine with him at once t'expire.'
+      Scarcely are the true words spoken,
+    When through line of battle broken
+    Swift he passes; and this brave son
+    His father bears in triumph on;
+    Reck'ning that he a trophy has
+    That the conquerors' doth surpass.
+      He safely goes: for, lo, amaz'd,
+    The foe upon them wistful gaz'd:
+    The conquerors the conquer'd are
+    By filial love so strong, so fair.
+    The flames Troy willingly receives,
+    Jubilant that the old man lives;
+    Welcomes the torches, that the night
+    May not conceal this deed of light.
+      All praise to thee, high-hearted son!
+    Thou an undying name hast won:
+    The debt of love thou hast repaid
+    Unto thy father, who is made
+    Thy debtor now; for life he gave,
+    And thou in turn his life dost save.
+    Happy the son whom thus we see
+    Father of his own sire to be.                  G.
+
+
+PHOENICIS GENETHLIACON ET EPICEDION.
+
+    Phoenix alumna mortis,
+    Quam mira tua puerpera!
+    Tu scandis haud nidos, sed ignes.
+    Non parere sed perire ceu parata:
+    Mors obstetrix; atque ipsa tu teipsam paris,
+          Tu tuique mater ipsa es,
+          Tu tuique filia.
+    Tu sic odora messis
+    Surgis tuorum funerum;
+    Tibique per tuam ruinam
+    Reparata, te succedis ipsa. Mors o
+    Faecunda; sancta o lucra pretiosae necis!
+          Vive, monstrum dulce, vive,
+          Tu tibique suffice.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE GENERATION AND REGENERATION OF THE PHOENIX.
+
+    Phoenix, nursling of Death,
+      How wondrous is thy birth!
+    Thou gainest not thy breath
+      I' nest, like birds of Earth:
+    'Mid fire all flaming hot
+    Thou strangely art begot;
+    The leaping flames thee cherish
+    When thou seem'st to perish.
+      Lo, Death thy midwife is;
+      Lo, thyself thou bearest.
+    O tell me how is this,
+      That mystery thou preparest?
+    Thou mother of thyself!
+    Thou daughter of thyself!
+    When thy 'pointed hour is done,
+      Thou an od'rous nest entwinest;
+    And, as for thy destruction,
+    Thou 'midst its fires reclinest.
+      Most surely thou'rt consum'd;
+      Most surely thou'rt relum'd.
+    O fruitful Death!
+    O gainful Death!
+    Live then, self-contained bird;
+      Most pleasing wonder.
+    The old legend is absurd;
+      But truth lies under.                               G.
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM.
+
+    Quisquis nectareo serenus aevo
+    Et spe lucidus aureae juventae,
+    Nescis purpureos abire soles,
+    Nescis vincula ferreamque noctem
+    Imi careris horridumque Ditem,                              5
+    Et spectas tremulam procul senectam,
+    Hinc disces lacrymas, et huc repones.
+    Hic, o scilicet hic brevi sub antro
+    Spes et gaudia mille, mille, longam,
+    Heu longam nimis! induere noctem.                          10
+    Flammantem nitidae facem juventae
+    Submersit Stygiae paludis unda.
+    Ergo, si lacrymas neges doloris,
+    Huc certo lacrymas feres timoris.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    I correct, in l. 6, 'tremulam' for 'tremulum;' l. 7, 'disces' for
+    'discas,' and 'huc' for 'hinc.' G.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH.
+
+    Ye that still, serene in peace,
+    Lying in the lap of ease,
+    Believe the hopes of golden youth,
+    And have not heard the bitter truth,
+    How shining suns fade at a breath;
+    Ye, with little dread of death,
+    Or fear of chains and iron night
+    Of man's last prison, or the sight
+    Of gloomy Dis; that think to keep
+    Old age away,--look here, and weep.
+    Here, to this one narrow room,
+    A thousand joys and hopes have come;
+    Here bright minutes many a one
+    Have a lasting night put on:
+    Youth's torch, that flash'd such light about,
+    Is in the Stygian wave put out.
+    Then, if you grudge poor grief a tear,
+    Heave, at least, a sigh for fear.                     A.
+
+ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
+
+    Whoe'er ye be, upgazing here,
+    Calm, unruffl'd, without tear;
+    Joyous in your golden prime,
+    And unwitting of the time
+    When shall pale Life's glowing sun,
+    And the web of years be spun;
+    Thinking not o' the iron night
+    Where grim Pluto reigns in might;
+    Thinking not of the nether world,
+          With its clanking chains;
+    Whither damned souls are hurl'd
+          When the Judge arraigns;
+        Seeing old age far away;
+    Making Life one holiday;--
+    Here perceive that Grief shall yet
+    Your ruddy cheeks with sorrow wet;
+    Here musing upon this poor stone,
+    Ye may learn prevention.
+    This Earth, what is it but a home
+    Fugitive as sea-wave's foam?
+    Mark where breaks the whit'n'd wave
+    'Mid the cliffs--an arched cave;
+    Light and shadow play within,
+          Flick'ring o'er its walls;
+    In the gloom--with Hell akin--
+          A dull stream slowly crawls.
+        E'en such is Life, how bright soe'er,
+    Hope and Joy lure to Despair;
+    And Life's stream goes plunging down
+    Into dark drear Acheron;
+    Youth's bright torch extinguish'd quite;
+    Golden Day exchang'd for Night:
+    To long night of changeless woe
+    Swift the Christless souls shall go.
+    Shun not therefore in thy prime,
+    Shun not whilst thou art in Time,
+    Tears of penitence over sin;
+      Or bitterly shalt thou rue,
+    When Death shall fling his javelin,
+      And Hell's prison thee immew.
+    Bethink thee in thy golden prime;
+    Bethink thee whilst thou'rt yet in Time.              G.
+
+
+ELEGIA.[100]
+
+    Ite, meae lacrymae, nec enim moror, ite; sed oro
+      Tantum ne miserae claudite vocis iter.
+    O liceat querulos verbis animare dolores,
+      Et saltem 'Ah periit!' dicere noster amor.
+    Ecce negant tamen; ecce negant, lacrymaeque rebelles
+      Pergunt indomita praecipitantque via.
+    Visne, o care, igitur te nostra silentia dicant?
+      Vis fleat assiduo murmure mutus amor?
+    Flebit, et urna suos semper bibet humida rores,
+      Et fidas semper semper habebit aquas.
+    Interea, quicunque estis, ne credite mirum
+      Si verae lacrymae non didicere loqui.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ELEGY.
+
+    Flow, flow, my tears; I stay you not; but pray
+    To my unhappy voice close not the way.
+    My plaintive griefs with words, O let me move;
+    To say, 'Alas, he died!' allow my love.
+    Lo, they say, no--the rebel tears say, no!
+    And with unconquer'd headlong torrent flow.
+    Wouldst thou, O dear one, that our silence speak?
+    Mute love with ceaseless sob moisten our cheek?
+    It shall; and still thine urn drink its own dews,
+    And never its own faithful waters lose.
+    Meanwhile let no one think a wonder wrought,
+    If real tears to speak could not be taught.       R. WI.
+
+
+THESAURUS MALORUM FOEMINA.
+
+    Quis deus, o quis erat, qui te, mala foemina, finxit?
+      Proh, crimen superum, noxa pudenda deum!
+    Quae divum manus est adeo non dextera mundo?
+      In nostras clades ingeniosa manus:
+    Parcite; peccavi: nec enim pia numina possunt
+      Tam crudele semel vel voluisse nefas.
+    Vestrum opus est pietas; opus est concordia vestrum;
+      Vos equidem tales haud reor artifices.
+    Heus, inferna cohors, foetus cognoscite vestros.
+      Num pudet hanc vestrum vincere posse scelus?
+    Plaudite Tartarei proceres Erebique potentes,
+      Nae mirum est tantum vos potuisse malum;
+    Jam vestras laudate manus. Si forte tacetis,
+      Artificum laudes grande loquetur opus.
+    Quam bene vos omnes speculo contemplor in isto?
+      Pectus in angustum cogitur omne malum.
+    Quin dormi, Pluto; rabidas compesce sorores;
+      Jam non poscit opem nostra ruina tuam.
+    Haec satis in nostros fabricata est machina muros,
+      Mortales furias Tartara nostra dabunt.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WOMAN A TREASURY OF EVILS.
+
+    What god? or who was it? I ask, contriv'd
+    Thee, O Woman, evil Woman? who conniv'd
+    Together--who--in this supremest crime
+    Of the divinities, before old Time
+    Was born? Alas, most dire calamity
+    As e'er has come upon humanity!
+    Whence was the hand, ye Powers, so evil-skill'd
+    In sin and mischief, so perversely will'd
+    To curse this world of ours? But hold! I blunder;
+    I must to the dark regions lying under,
+    Ev'n Hell, descend. Not Thee, O God above,
+    For Thou art pitiful, for Thou art Love:
+    Not one of all the gracious Pow'rs supernal;
+    But ye, O Furies, from the pit infernal,
+    Ye, ye the work devis'd, matur'd, achiev'd,
+    And brought to Man; to Man--frail Man! deceiv'd:
+    Ho, hosts of evil! ho! on you I call:
+    Behold your offspring diabolical.
+    Does it a blush raise?--Spirits of evil, speak!--
+    Such as expos'd crime brings to mortal cheek?
+    Lo, these your works yourselves surpass, I wis;
+    Clap hands, ye potentates of the Abyss.
+    Rulers of Erebus, is it not a wonder,
+    Worthy of Hell's most resonant swift thunder,
+    That ye such thing contrived have as Heaven
+    Never cast out, nor e'er to Hell was driven?
+    Take ye your praise, your praise; this work o' your hands
+    Absolute in mischief 'bove compar'son stands.
+    Or if ye silent be, your work will speak
+    Your praise. Ha, ha! what mean ye that ye shriek
+    Thus as I meditate with pulse of fear
+    Upon this monster, Woman? Ah, 'tis clear;
+    I see your guile and skill. The gods above
+    Would have all ills within one scant breast move!
+    To bed, Pluto, king of the nether world;
+    Sleep on in peace; be every banner furl'd;
+    Ye fires, go out; Man's ruin is complete;
+    No need of you--in Woman all woes meet:
+    In her, ye devils, ye have so contriv'd
+    That Tempter, who--better than had ye div'd
+    To furthest Tartarus--Man's protecting wall
+    Shall breach. Earth's fury--Woman--passes all!        G.
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+
+II.
+
+MISCELLANEOUS AND COMMEMORATIVE.
+
+NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    Once more the Sancroft MS. 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.
+
+
+PULCHRA NON DIUTURNA.
+
+
+    EHEU, ver breve et invidum!
+    Eheu, floriduli dies!
+    Ergo curritis improba,
+    Et quae nunc face fulgurat,
+    Dulcis forma tenacibus
+    Immiscebitur infimae:
+    Heu, noctis nebulis; amor
+    Fallax, umbraque somnii.
+    Quin incumbitis; invida
+    Sic dictat colus, et rota
+    Cani temporis incito
+    Currens orbe volubilis.
+    O deprendite lubricos
+    Annos; et liquidum jubar
+    Verni sideris, ac novi
+    Floris fulgura, mollibus
+    Quae debetis amoribus,
+    Non impendite luridos
+    In manes avidum et Chaos.
+      Quanquam sidereis genis,
+    Quae semper nive sobria
+    Sinceris spatiis vigent,
+    Floris germine simplicis,
+    Flagrant ingenuae rosae:
+      Quanquam perpetua fide
+    Illic mille Cupidines,
+    Centum mille Cupidines,
+    Pastos nectarea dape,
+    Blandis sumptibus educas;
+    Istis qui spatiis vagi,
+    Plenis lusibus ebrii,
+    Udo rore beatuli,
+    Uno plus decies die
+    Istis ex oculis tuis,
+    Istis ex oculis suas
+    Sopitas animant faces,
+    Et languentia recreant
+    Succo spicula melleo:
+    Tum flammis agiles novis
+    Lasciva volitant face,
+    Tum plenis tumidi minis,
+    Tum vel sidera territant,
+    Et coelum et fragilem Jovem:
+      Quanquam fronte sub ardua
+    Majestas gravis excubans,
+    Dulces fortiter improbis
+    Leges dictat amoribus:
+      Quanquam tota, per omnia,
+    Coelum machina praeferat,
+    Tanquam pagina multiplex
+    Vivo scripta volumine,
+    Terris indigitans polos.
+    Et compendia siderum:
+      Istis heu tamen heu genis,
+    Istis purpureis genis,
+    Oris sidere florido,
+    Regno frontis amabili;
+    Mors heu crastina forsitan
+    Crudeles faciet notas,
+    Naturaeque superbiam
+    Damnabit tumuli specu.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE BEAUTIFUL NOT LASTING.
+
+    Alas, how brief and grudg'd our Spring!
+    Ah, flow'ry days how vanishing!
+    E'en so ye hasten on and on
+    With an unceasing motion.
+    And thou, sweet Beauty, brightly flashing,
+    But all too soon thy fairness dashing,
+    To depths of lowest Night must go:
+    Ah, losing there thy hasty glow;
+    Dark'ning mists around thee clinging,
+    And thy loveliness swift-winging:
+    A love that brightens to deceive;
+    A dream-shadow, fugitive.
+      Ye therefore o'er whom Life's young Day
+    Shineth still with golden ray,
+    Seize--Fate's harsh distaff makes appeal,
+    And hoary Time's quick-whirling wheel,
+    As round and round the circle spins,
+    And to furthest distance wins--
+    Seize ye the gliding seasons fleet,
+    And dews of vernal Phosphor sweet,
+    And new-blown flowers' brightness meet.
+    O, what to tender loves ye owe,
+    Waste not on Chaos dark below,
+    Where pallid ghosts dim-gleaming go.
+      Though, Beauty, on thy starry cheeks,
+    Where snow's white pureness ever breaks,
+    And where gazing, we see born
+    Roses fresh without all thorn,
+    Buds intertwining undefil'd,
+    Spotless as e'er a grace-born child:
+      Though thou with everlasting faith
+    Fosterest with thy nectar'd breath
+    Myriad Loves, and dost them feed
+    With honey'd feast of heavenly mead
+    In gentle draughts; and they roam round
+    In thy realms, and aye are found
+    Surfeiting themselves with play
+    In one amorous holiday;
+    Happy in the drenching dew,
+    And seeking ever to renew
+    Their torch-flames at thy fair eyes,
+    And whet blunt arrows' ecstasies
+    With sweet juice that in honey lies:
+    And so, with their flame relumed,
+    Deftly hover, airy-plumed;
+    Waving higher still and higher
+    Their torches that raise soft desire;
+    Menacing the very stars,
+    Yea the old heavens i' their wars:
+      Although beneath thy high-arch'd brow
+    Sits Majesty, nor doth allow
+    To wanton loves such liberty
+    As mocks the Ruler of the sky;
+    But in their wild career gives pause,
+    Imposing on them Love's sweet laws:
+      Though thy whole frame in every part
+    Sets forth the sky as in a chart;
+    Though thy fair face in every look
+    Shows heaven in page of living book;
+    To Earth reveals the starry skies
+    In the bright glances of thine eyes:
+      Yet, alas, on these fair cheeks,
+    Where the rose all-blushing speaks,
+    There shall come the snow's sad whiteness,
+    And the red, heart-breaking brightness:
+    On the 'human face divine,'
+    That as a star doth radiant shine,
+    There shall come the deep'ning shadow,
+    As clouds across the dappl'd meadow.
+    On the high state of the brow
+    To-morrow Death may make his blow;
+    And all of Nature's bravery
+    Gone, in the Grave's cavern lie.
+    Alas, the fairest is the fleetest!
+    Alas, how short-liv'd is the sweetest!
+    Alas, the richest is the rarest!
+    Alas, that Death doth spoil the fairest!              G.
+
+
+HYMNUS VENERI,
+
+DUM IN ILLIUS TUTELAM TRANSEUNT VIRGINES.
+
+    Tu tuis adsis, Venus alme, sacris:
+    Rideas blandum, Venus, et benignum,
+    Quale cum Martem premis, aureoque
+                Frangis ocello.
+    Rideas o tum neque flamma Phoebum,
+    Nec juvent Phoeben sua tela; gestat
+    Te satis contra tuus ille tantum
+                Tela Cupido.
+    Saepe in ipsius pharetra Dianae
+    Hic suas ridens posuit sagittas,
+    Ausus et flammae Dominum magistris
+                Urere flammis.
+    Virginum te orat chorus--esse longum
+    Virgines nollent--modo servientum
+    Tot columbarum tibi passerumque augere catervam.
+    Dedicant quicquid labra vel rosarum
+    Colla, vel servant tibi liliorum;
+    Dedicant totum tibi ver genarum,
+                Ver oculorum.
+    Hinc tuo sumas licet arma nato,
+    Seu novas his ex oculis sagittas;
+    Seu faces flamma velit acriori
+                Flave comatas.
+    Sume, et o discant quid amica, quid nox,
+    Quid bene et blande vigilata nox sit;
+    Quid sibi dulcis furor, et protervus
+                Poscat amator.
+    Sume per quae tot tibi corda flagrant,
+    Per quod arcanum tua cestus halat,
+    Per tuus quicquid tibi dixit olim aut
+                Fecit Adonis.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A HYMN TO VENUS,
+
+WHILE THE VIRGINS PASS UNDER HER PROTECTION.
+
+    Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,
+    Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;
+    Smile, Venus, with the smile that charms
+    When Mars enfolds thee in his arms,
+    O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,
+    Renowned from the ages olden.
+    Smile; then Phoebus' flame shall fail,
+    Nor Phoebe her own darts avail.
+    Thy Cupid only against thee
+    Wields successful weaponry.
+    Oft and oft the laughing Boy
+    In the wildness of his joy
+    Has slipt into Diana's quiver
+    His keen arrows, that a shiver
+    Pleasant-painful send through all,
+    When he, trickster, doth enthral.
+    Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of Fire
+    With flames more burning, in his ire.
+      The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,
+    Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;
+    Were it but to offer here,
+    In the flock that hovers near,
+    More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:
+    To their prayer there's no denying.
+      Lo, they dedicate in posies
+    All their lips supply of roses;
+    All their necks, of lilies, white
+    As the dewy stainless light;
+    Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,
+    And that which from their eyes doth break.
+      Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest take
+    For thy wanton Boy to make
+    Arrows from their fire-darting eyes,
+    Or torches flame-tipp'd that surprise
+    With Love's delicious agonies.
+      Take them, and see thou lett'st them know
+    What means a 'mistress;' and then show
+    What the Night all-wakeful is
+    In the rapture of its bliss;
+    What the bold lover shall demand
+    When all charms he doth command.
+      Take them: by all the hearts that burn,
+    And passionate unto thee turn!
+    By all the mysteries that are breath'd,
+    Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!
+    By all to thee Adonis e'er
+    Or said or did, when he would swear,
+    Ne'er i' the world was one so fair!                  G.
+
+
+VERIS DESCRIPTIO.
+
+    Tempus adest, placidis quo sol novus auctior horis
+    Purpureos mulcere dies, et sidere verno
+    Floridus, augusto solet ire per aethera vultu,
+    Naturae communis amor; spes aurea mundi;
+    Virgineum decus, et dulcis lascivia rerum,
+    Ver tenerum, ver molle subit; jam pulchrior annus
+    Pube nova, roseaeque recens in flore juventae
+    Felici fragrat gremio, et laxatur odora
+    Prole parens; per aquas, perque arva, per omnia late
+    Ipse suas miratur opes, miratur honores.
+    Jam Zephyro resoluta suo tumet ebria tellus,
+    Et crebro bibit imbre Jovem, sub frondibus altis
+    Flora sedens, audit, felix! quo murmure lapsis
+    Fons patrius minitetur aquis, quae vertice crispo
+    Respiciunt tantum, et strepero procul agmine pergunt.
+    Audit, et arboreis siquid gemebunda recurrens
+    Garriat aura comis, audit, quibus ipsa susurris
+    Annuit, et facili cervice remurmurat arbor.
+    Quin audit querulas, audit quodcunque per umbras
+    Flebilibus Philomela modis miserabile narrat.
+    Tum quoque praecipue blandis Cytherea per orbem
+    Spargitur imperiis; molles tum major habenas
+    Incutit increpitans, cestus magis ignea rores
+    Ingeminat, tumidosque sinus flagrantior ambit;
+    Nympharum incedit late, Charitumque corona
+    Amplior, et plures curru jam nectit olores:
+    Quin ipsos quoque tum campis emittit apricis
+    Laeta parens gremioque omnes effundit Amores.        _Venus_
+    Mille ruunt equites blandi, peditumque protervae
+    Mille ruunt acies: levium pars terga ferarum
+    Insiliunt, gaudentque suis stimulare sagittis;
+    Pars optans gemino multum properare volatu
+    Aerios conscendit equos; hic passere blando
+    Subsiliens leve ludit iter; micat huc, micat illuc
+    Hospitio levis incerto, et vagus omnibus umbris:
+    Verum alter gravidis insurgens major habenis
+    Maternas molitur aves: illi improbus acrem
+    Versat apem similis, seseque agnoscit in illo.
+    Et brevibus miscere vias ac frangere gyris:
+    Pars leviter per prata vagi sua lilia dignis
+    Contendunt sociare rosis; tum floreus ordo
+    Consilio fragrante venit; lascivit in omni
+    Germine laeta manus; nitidis nova gloria pennis
+    Additur; illustri gremio sedet aurea messis;
+    Gaudet odoratas coma blandior ire sub umbras.
+    Excutiunt solitas, immitia tela, sagittas,
+    Ridentesque aliis pharetrae spectantur in armis.
+    Flore manus, et flore sinus, flore omnia lucent.
+    Undique jam flos est. Vitreas hic pronus ad undas
+    Ingenium illudentis aquae, fluitantiaque ora,
+    Et vaga miratur tremulae mendacia formae.
+    Inde suos probat explorans, et judice nympha
+    Informat radios, ne non satis igne protervo
+    Ora tremant, agilesque docet nova fulgura vultus,
+    Atque suo vibrare jubet petulantius astro.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.
+
+    The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,
+    The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,
+    Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,
+    And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,
+    To climb with face august the heavenly way;
+    All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,
+    To which for garlands virgins are beholden.
+    With a glad plenty of all living things
+    Sweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.
+    The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,
+    And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,
+    Delicious odours pours from happy breast,
+    Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:
+    O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,
+    At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.
+    By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unbound
+    Drinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;
+    While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,
+    Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,
+    A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,
+    Which with curl'd head--alas, unduteous daughters--
+    Only look back, and then a garrulous band
+    Pursue their laughing way o'er all the land;
+    Lists how the sighing, oft-returning air
+    Soft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;
+    With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,
+    Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;
+    Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shade
+    Sad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.
+      Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,
+    And calls the world to worship at her feet;
+    Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,
+    Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;
+    More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,
+    And her warm swelling bosom girds around;
+    More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,
+    She marches forth, and to her chariot-traces
+    She yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,
+    Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,
+    From her maternal bosom see her pour;
+    A thousand horsemen sweet career around,
+    Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;
+    Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,
+    And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;
+    Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,
+    And so ascend each one an airy steed;
+    One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;
+    Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,
+    In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,
+    Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.
+    One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,
+    His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.
+    One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,
+    Only another self in him to see;
+    In tiny circles they awhile revolve,
+    But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.
+    Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,
+    Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.
+    Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,
+    Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.
+    New glory on their shining pinions rests,
+    A golden harvest settles on their breasts;
+    With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,
+    Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,
+    While other arms their smiling quivers show.
+    Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,
+    On every side appears a flowery sheen.
+    One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,
+    Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,
+    The liquid likeness of his wavering face,
+    And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.
+    Thence, his own rays examining, he tries
+    And fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,
+    That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;
+    His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,
+    With rays more wanton, bickering like a star.     R. WI.
+
+
+PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.
+
+    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:
+
+
+    EN
+    PRISCIANUS
+    VERBERANS
+    ET
+    VAPULANS.
+
+    Jam publicato verberans aures stylo
+    Qua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.
+
+
+    Londini
+
+    Excudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensis
+    Roberti Mulbourne ad insigne
+    Canis venatici in coemeterio Paulino.   1632.
+
+    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:
+
+    Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101] arvis
+    Praeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adepta
+    Villa[102] antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.
+
+    He describes the school:
+
+    Vicinae senior Carbonius[3] incola villae,
+    'Lingua vernacula idem quod {anthrakandros},
+
+    sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20_s._ a year:
+
+    De stipe[103] consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.
+
+    He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves
+    boys from the gallows:
+
+                        Iste caballus
+    Non in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinam         _the Trojan_
+    Sed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:
+    A triplici ligno[104] lignum hoc penate tuetur
+    Praecipitem aetatem.
+
+    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 horse, which, by poetical
+    license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty
+    cuts, and receives four:
+
+    Quattuor[105] inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,
+    Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.
+
+    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:
+
+    Vult sibi ut absolvens[106] accepti latio detur
+    Consignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.
+
+    Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:
+
+                    ..... bona Carbonissa
+    Inque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustro
+    Digna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107] cathedra,
+    Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.
+
+    They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the
+    marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)
+
+    Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarum
+    Qui populo Placita ad Communia[108] panditur, exit
+    Schedula quod vulgo[109] Regis Breve dicitur: illo
+    Mox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondet
+    In responsurum praescripto tempore: tempus
+    Cunctarum[110] lux est animarum crastini. Verum
+    Actor quis?[111] Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annos
+    Nondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?
+    Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristes
+    Et tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,
+    Quod[112] Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armis
+    Insultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevo
+    Verberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericli
+    De pueri vita ut desperaretur.
+
+    The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first
+    law-suit:
+
+                        Ecce
+    Nisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:
+
+    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:
+
+    LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.
+
+    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:
+
+          Ad {koprochrysounta}
+    Suavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:
+        Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.
+
+    In black-letter, as follows:
+
+    Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:
+    Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.
+
+    T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.
+
+    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. G.
+
+    Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?
+      Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?
+    Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.
+      Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.
+    Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.
+      Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.
+    Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballum
+      Quaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?
+    Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?
+      Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?
+    His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?
+      Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?
+    Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?
+      Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?
+    Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;
+      Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.
+    O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!
+      Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?
+    Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.
+      Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.
+    Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:
+      Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.
+    Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,
+      Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.
+    Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,
+      Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!
+    At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iram
+      Mille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.
+    Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:
+      Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.
+    O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,
+      Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!
+    Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.
+      Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.
+    Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballi
+      Exercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.
+    Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridet
+      Turpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.
+    Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,
+      O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,
+    At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?
+      Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!
+    Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?
+      Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.[113]
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.
+
+    What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?
+    What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?
+    Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,
+    Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.
+    Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;
+    The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.
+    Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?
+    Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!
+    In such adornment shall he brightly shine?
+    His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?
+    His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?
+    O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?
+    In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,
+    So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?
+    Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,
+    Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.
+    Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!
+    O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?
+    Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,
+    Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:
+    And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;
+    Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.
+    Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,
+    Again he bore thee--in a better way!
+    Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,
+    Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.
+    His mother furious raves and wildly splutters
+    A thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.
+    Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;
+    Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.
+    O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,
+    Such words as in no law-court ever rung.
+    Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:
+    Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.
+    Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hide
+    By wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.
+    While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,
+    Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.
+    Whatever judge such nasty action tries,
+    See that he blow his nose well, I advise.
+    But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,
+    With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?
+    That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?--
+    'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee!  R. WI.
+
+
+AD LIBRUM
+
+SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR 'PRISCIANUS
+VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    Sordes o tibi gratulamur istas,
+    O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;
+    O Musa, o tibi candidas, suoque
+    Jam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas:
+    Sacro carmine quippe delinitae
+    Se nunc, o bene nesciunt, novaque
+    Mirantur facie novum nitorem.
+    Ipsas tu facis o nitere sordes.
+    Sordes o tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+    Si non hic natibus procax malignis
+    Foedo fulmine turpis intonasset,
+    Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex,
+    Docto et murmure carminis severi
+    Dulces fortiter aggregaret iras?
+    Ipsae o te faciunt nitere sordes:
+    Sordes o tibi gratulamur ipsas.
+      Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene!
+    Turpi quam bene degener parenti!
+    Foedi filia tam serena fontis.
+    Has de stercore quis putaret undas?
+    Sic o lactea surge, Musa, surge;
+    Surge inter medias serena sordes.
+    Spumis qualiter in suis Dione,
+    Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primas
+    Ortu purpureo movebat undas.
+    Sic o lactea surge, Musa, surge:
+    Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT
+
+PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, WHICH IS CALLED
+'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'
+
+    On this vile theme thee we congratulate,
+    O golden Muse, pleasing and delicate;
+    This fair white vileness, Muse, which by its own
+    Or name or face is now no longer known.
+    For, charm'd by thy poetic sacred strain,
+    It knows not, happily, itself again;
+    But with new face wonders at its new splendour--
+    For splendid e'en a vile theme thou canst render:
+    Congratulations for vile theme we tender.
+    For had not _he_,[114] with headlong buttocks base,
+    Gone flashing foully on with thunderous pace,
+    From whence would this avenging plant have sprung,
+    This solemn strain with polish'd music rung?
+    And whence had gather'd these brave angers tender?
+    O Muse, the vilest theme can bring thee splendour,
+    For which congratulations now we render.
+      Thy Hippocrene comes with a fair face,
+    Finely unworthy of its father base;
+    Of a foul fountain so serene a daughter:
+    From dunghill, who would dream such crystal water?
+      Thus rise, O Muse, O rise, a milk-white queen,
+    Out of the midst of vileness rise serene.
+    Even as Venus rising from her spray,
+    When she discover'd to the light of day
+    Her golden limbs, the billowy waves surprising
+    With the first glory of her purple rising;
+    So rise, O Muse, thy milk-white grace unfold;
+    Ennius' dunghill will be Virgil's gold!           R. WI.
+
+
+MELIUS PURGATUR STOMACHUS PER
+
+VOMITUM QUAM PER SECESSUM.
+
+    Dum vires refero vomitus et nobile munus,
+      Da mini de vomitu, grandis Homere, tuo.
+    Nempe olim, multi cum carminis anxia moles
+      Vexabat stomachum, magne Poeta, tuum;
+    Aegraque jejuno tenuebat pectora morsu,
+      Jussit et in crudam semper hiare famem:
+    Phoebus, ut est medicus, vomitoria pocula praebens,
+      Morbum omnem longos expulit in vomitus.
+    Protinus et centum incumbunt toto ore Poetae,
+      Certantes sacras lambere relliquias.
+    Quod vix fecissent, scio, si medicamen ineptum
+      Venisset misere posteriore via.
+    Quippe per anfractus caecique volumina ventris
+      Sacra, putas, hostem vult medicina sequi?
+    Tam turpes tenebras haec non dignatur, at ipsum
+      Sedibus ex imis imperiosa trahit.
+
+    ERGO:
+
+    Per vomitum stomachus melius purgabitur, alvus
+      Quam qua secretis exit opaca viis.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    While we do not deem it expedient to translate this somewhat coarse
+    _jeu d'esprit_, 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:
+
+    Old Homer in his time made a great feast,
+    And every Poet was thereat a guest:
+    All had their welcome, yet not all one fare;
+    To them above the salt (his chiefest care)
+    He spread a banquet of choice Poesie,
+    Whereon they fed even to satietie.
+    The lower end had from that end their cates;
+    For Homer, setting open his dung-gates,
+    Delivered from that dresser excrement,
+    Whereon they glutted, and returned in print.
+    Let no man wonder that I this rehearse;
+    Nought came from Homer but it turned to verse.
+    Now where our Author was, at this good cheere,
+    Where was his place, or whether he were there;
+    Whether he waited, or he tooke away,
+    Of this same point I cannot soothly say.
+    But this I ghesse: being then a dandiprat,
+    Some witty Poet took him on his lap,
+    And fed him, from above, with some choice bit.
+    Hence his acumen, and a ready wit.
+    But prayers from a friendly pen ill thrive,
+    And truth's scarce truth, spoke by a relative.
+    Let envy, therefore, give her vote herein:
+    Envy and th' Author sure are nought akin.
+    He personate bad Envy; yet say so,
+    He lickt at Homer's mouth, not from below.      R[ALPH] H[UTTON].
+
+    Percy Society edit. (Rimbault), 1842. Both Hutton and Crashaw remind
+    us of the like sportiveness (rough) in Dryden and Byron. G.
+
+
+CUM HORUM ALIQUA DEDICARAM
+
+PRAECEPTORI MEO COLENDISSIMO, AMICO AMICISSIMO, R. BROOKE.[115]
+
+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.
+
+    Qualiter e nido multa jam floridus ala
+    Astra sibi meditatur avis, pulchrosque meatus
+    Aerios inter proceres, licet aethera nunquam
+    Expertus, rudibusque illi sit in ardua pennis
+    Prima fides, micat ire tamen, quatiensque decora
+    Veste leves humeros, querulumque per aera ludens
+    Nil dubitat vel in astra vagos suspendere nisus,
+    At vero simul immensum per inane profundis
+    Exhaustus spatiis, vacuoque sub aethere pendens,
+    Arva procul sylvasque suas, procul omnia cernit,
+    Cernere quae solitus: tum vero victa cadit mens,
+    Spesque suas, et tanta timens conamina, totus
+    Respicit ad matrem, pronisque revertitur auris.
+
+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 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.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+WHEN I HAD DEDICATED CERTAIN OF MY POEMS
+
+TO MY MOST ESTIMABLE PRECEPTOR AND MOST FRIENDLY FRIEND, R. BROOKE.
+
+'Well done, Muse!' was thy encouraging word, most estimable Praeceptor;
+'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.
+
+      Like as a nestling, feather'd gaily o'er,
+    Is meditating towards the stars to soar,
+    And in ambitious flights already vies
+    With the wing'd chiefs that skim along the skies:
+    What though he never has essay'd the air,
+    And needs must trust in plumes untried to bear
+    Unwonted burden heavenward? yet he quivers
+    To stretch his wings, and his fair plumage shivers
+    Round his light shoulders till he flits away,
+    While whispering airs against his pinions play;
+    Nor dreams he will suspend his wandering flight
+    Anywhere short of regions starry bright.
+    But when exhausted by the spaces high
+    And the immeasurable void of sky,
+    Hovering in empty air, far off he sees
+    The fields and hedges and familiar trees--
+    O, how far off!--which used his sight to please;
+    Then sudden overpower'd behold him sink,
+    And from his hopes and lofty soarings shrink:
+    To his dear mother his whole soul looks back,
+    And down he flutters on the homeward track.
+
+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.
+
+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. R. WI.
+
+
+IN OBITUM REV. V. D^{ris} MANSELL,
+
+COLL. REGIN. M^{ri} QUI VEN. D^{s} BROOKE [M^{ri} COLL. TRIN.],
+INTERITUM PROXIME SECUTUS EST.[116]
+
+    Ergo iterum in lacrymas et saevi murmura planctus
+      Ire jubet tragica mors iterata manu;
+    Scilicet illa novas quae jam fert dextra sagittas,
+      Dextra priore recens sanguine stillat adhuc.
+    Vos o, quos socia Lachesis prope miscuit urna,
+      Et vicina colus vix sinit esse duos;
+    Ite o, quos nostri jungunt consortia damni;
+      Per nostras lacrymas o nimis ite pares;
+    Ite per Elysias felici tramite valles,
+      Et sociis animos conciliate viis.
+    Illic ingentes ultro confundite manes,
+      Noscat et aeternam mutua dextra fidem.
+    Communes eadem spargantur in otia curae,
+      Atque idem felix poscat utrumque labor.
+    Nectarae simul ite vagis sermonibus horae;
+      Nox trahat alternas continuata vices.
+    Una cibos ferat, una suas vocet arbor in umbras;
+      Ambobus faciles herba det una toros.
+    Certum erit interea quanto sit major habenda
+      Quam quae per vitam est, mortis amicitia.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE DEATH OF REV. DR. MANSELL,
+
+MASTER OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE, WHICH FOLLOWED VERY CLOSELY THE DECEASE OF
+REV. DR. BROOKE.[117]
+
+    In tears once more and sighs of cruel woe
+    Death's tragic stroke repeated bids us go;
+    That fatal hand, which now bears arrows new,
+    Still freshly drips with former crimson dew.
+    Ye whom Fate almost mingl'd in one urn,
+    Whom to be two, close threads forbid discern;
+    Go ye, who equally our sorrows share,
+    By reason of our tears too much a pair;
+    Go where Elysian vales your steps invite,
+    In social paths your happy souls unite;
+    There mix your mighty shades with willing mind,
+    Eternal faith your blended right-hands find.
+    Let common cares be lost in the same joys,
+    While the same happy labour both employs;
+    Through nectar'd hours in talk together range,
+    And night continue the sweet interchange:
+    One tree bear fruit for both, one tree yield shade,
+    On the same turf your pleasant couch be made;
+    Thus how much better will be plainly seen
+    Friendship of Death than that of life, I ween.    R. WI.
+
+
+HONORATISSIMO DR. ROBERTO HEATH,
+
+SUMMO JUSTIT. DE COM. BANCO, GRATULATIO.[118]
+
+    Ignitum latus et sacrum tibi gratulor ostrum,
+      O amor atque tuae gloria magna togae:
+    Nam video Themis ecce humeris, Themis ardet in istis,
+      Inque tuos gaudet tota venire sinus.
+    O ibi purpureo quam se bene porrigit astro,
+      Et docet hic radios luxuriare suos.
+    Imo eat aeterna sic o Themis aurea pompa;
+      Hic velit o sidus semper habere suum.
+    Sic flagret, et nunquam tua purpura palleat intus;
+      O nunquam in vultus digna sit ire tuos.
+    Sanguine ab innocuo nullos bibat illa rubores;
+      Nec tam crudeli murice proficiat.
+    Quaeque tibi est (nam quae non est tibi?) candida virtus
+      Fortunam placide ducat in alta tuam.
+    Nullius viduae lacrymas tua marmora sudent;
+      Nec sit, quae inclamet te, tibi facta domus.
+    Non gemat ulla suam pinus tibi scissa ruinam,
+      Ceu cadat in domini murmure maesta sui.
+    Fama suas subter pennas tibi sternat eunti;
+      Illa tubae faciat te melioris opus.
+    Thura tuo, quacunque meat, cum nomine migrent;
+      Quaeque vehit felix te, vehat aura rosas.
+    Vive tuis, nec enim non sunt aequissima, votis
+      Aequalis, quae te sidera cunque vocant.
+    Haec donec niveae cedat tua purpura pallae,
+      Lilium ibi fuerit, quae rosa vestis erat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD ROBERT HEATH,
+
+ON HIS BEING MADE A JUDGE: A CONGRATULATION.[119]
+
+    Upon thy sacred purple, barr'd with fire,
+    I gratulate thee--glorious, lov'd attire!
+    For on those shoulders I see Justice shine,
+    And glad to hide within those folds of thine.
+    O finely there she shoots her purple beam,
+    And teaches here her rays brightly to gleam.
+    May Justice thus in pomp eternal go,
+    Here always wish her golden star to glow!
+    Thus blaze, and ne'er thy purple pale its blush,
+    And never need into thy face to flush.
+    From innocent blood ne'er drink a deeper dye,
+    And turn more crimson from such cruelty.
+    Let all fair virtues--for thou ownest all--
+    Calmly to heaven above thy footsteps call.
+    No widows' tears thy marble halls distil,
+    No house cry out against thee, built by ill;
+    No timber cut for thee its downfall groan,
+    'Mid its lord's murmurs sadly overthrown.
+    May Fame spread out her wings beneath thy feet,
+    And thee with loud applause her trumpet greet!
+    May incense waft thy name where'er it goes,
+    The happy gale which bears thee bear the rose!
+    Live equal to thy prayers, most just are they,
+    Whatever stars direct thee on thy way,
+    Till this thy purple turn to robe of snow,
+    And where the rose had been, the lily glow!       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+HORATII ODE,
+
+Ille et nefasto te posuit die, &c. Lib. ii. 13.
+
+
+{hellenisti.}
+
+    {Hora se keinos theken apophradi
+    Ho protos hostis cheiri te bomaki
+      Ethrepse, dendron, tes te komes
+        Aition, essomenon t' elenchos.
+    Keinos tokeos thrypse kai auchena,
+    Keinos ge, phaien, haimati xeinio
+      Mychotaton koitona rhaine
+        Nyktios, amphaphaase keinos
+    Ta deta Kolchon pharmaka, kai kakou
+    Pan chrema, dosas moi epichorion
+      Se stygnon ernos, despotou se
+        Empeson es kephalen aeikos.
+    Pases men hores pan epikindynon
+    Tis oide pheugein? deidie Bosphoron
+      Libys ho ploten, oud' anaiker
+        Ten kryphien heterothen oknei.
+    Parthon machemon Rhomaikos phygen,
+    Kai toxa; Parthos Rhomaiken bian,
+      Kai desma; laous alla moiras
+        Balle, balei t' adoketos horme.
+    Schedon schedon pos Persephones idon
+    Aulen melainen, kai krisin Aiakou,
+      Kalen t' apostasin makairon
+        Aioliais kinyren te chordais
+    Sappho patridos memphomenen korais,
+    Echounta kai se pleion epichryso,
+      Alkaie, plektro sklera neos,
+        Sklera phyges, polemou te sklera
+    Euphemeousai d' amphoteron skiai
+    Klyousi thambei, tas de machas pleon,
+      Anastatous te men tyrannous
+        Omias ekpien osi laos.
+    Ti thaum'? ekeinais ther hote trikranos
+    Aken aoidais, ouata kabbale,
+      Erinnyon th' hedypathousi
+        Bostryches, hesychion echidnon.
+    Kai de Prometheus, kai Pelopos pater
+    Heudousin echei to lathikedei;
+      Agein leontas Orion de
+        Ou phileei, phoberas te lynkas.}
+
+
+
+
+Latin Poems.
+
+PART SECOND. SECULAR.
+
+III.
+
+ROYAL AND ACADEMICAL.
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+    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.
+
+    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 Serenissimae Reginae' &c. the heading is
+    'Senerissimae;' l. 14, 'tuos' for 'tuus;' l. 41, 'Namque' for 'Nam
+    quae;' 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, 'tenerae' 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.' G.
+
+
+
+
+AD CAROLUM PRIMUM:
+
+REX REDUX.[120]
+
+
+    Ille redit, redit. Hoc populi bona murmura volvunt;
+      Publicus hoc, audin'? plausus ad astra refert:
+    Hoc omni sedet in vultu commune serenum;
+      Omnibus hinc una est laetitiae facies.
+    Rex noster, lux nostra redit; redeuntis ad ora
+      Arridet totis Anglia laeta genis:
+    Quisque suos oculos oculis accendit ab istis;
+      Atque novum sacro sumit ab ore diem.
+    Forte roges tanto quae digna pericula plausu
+      Evadat Carolus, quae mala quosve metus:
+    Anne pererrati male fida volumina ponti
+      Ausa illum terris pene negare suis:
+    Hospitis an nimii rursus sibi conscia tellus
+      Vix bene speratum reddat Ibera caput.
+    Nil horum; nec enim male fida volumina ponti
+      Aut sacrum tellus vidit Ibera caput.
+    Verus amor tamen haec sibi falsa pericula fingit--
+      Falsa peric'la solet fingere verus amor;
+    At Carolo qui falsa timet, nec vera timeret--
+      Vera peric'la solet temnere verus amor;
+    Illi falsa timens, sibi vera pericula temnens,
+      Non solum est fidus, sed quoque fortis amor.
+    Interea nostri satis ille est causa triumphi:
+      Et satis, ah, nostri causa doloris erat.
+    Causa doloris erat Carolus, sospes licet esset;
+      Anglia quod saltem dicere posset, abest.
+    Et satis est nostri Carolus nunc causa triumphi:
+      Dicere quod saltem possumus: Ille redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE RETURN OF THE KING.
+
+    'The King returns!' the people cry;
+    And shouts of greeting scale the sky.
+    The news sits in each look serene;
+    In each a common joy is seen.
+    Our King! our light! she laughs once more,
+    Glad Anglia, as he gains her shore.
+    Each at the King's eyes lights his eyes;
+    Sees new day with his face arise.
+    You'll ask, what fears beset his way,
+    What ills, what dangers,--we're so gay:
+    If 'gainst his bark, that sail'd for home,
+    The faithless billows dar'd to foam;
+    Or if, so seldom blest, you plann'd
+    To keep him still, Iberian land.
+    Nor waves have wrong'd his saintly head,
+    Nor green Iberia felt his tread.
+    Yet think such fancies true love will--
+    True love, that feigns false perils still:
+    Us such fears vex, whose hearts are stout--
+    True perils still true love will scout:
+    Thus fear false perils, scorn the true,
+    Will trusty love and brave in you.
+    O fitly we kept cloudy brow,
+    Because of him, as laughter now.
+    When we could say, 'Our King's not here,'
+    We griev'd for him, no danger near:
+    Now our hearts can no least joy lack,
+    When we say, laughing, 'He's come back.'              A.
+
+
+AD PRINCIPEM NONDUM NATUM,
+
+REGINA GRAVIDA.[121]
+
+    Nascere nunc, o nunc; quid enim, puer alme, moraris?
+      Nulla tibi dederit dulcior hora diem.
+    Ergone tot tardos, o lente, morabere menses?
+      Rex redit; ipse veni, et dic, bone, gratus ades.
+    Nam quid ave nostrum? quid nostri verba triumphi?
+      Vagitu melius dixeris ista tuo.
+    At maneas tamen, et nobis nova causa triumphi:
+      Sic demum fueris; nec nova causa tamen:
+    Nam quoties Carolo novus aut nova nascitur infans,
+      Revera toties Carolus ipse redit.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE ROYAL INFANT NOT YET BORN,
+
+THE QUEEN BEING WITH CHILD.
+
+    Be born, O, now; for why, fair child, delay?
+    No sweeter hour will bring to thee the day.
+    So many months wilt linger on the wing?
+    The King returns; come thou, and welcome bring.
+    What is our hail? our voice of triumph high?
+    Thou wilt have said these better with thy cry.
+    But stay; and soon new cause of triumph be;
+    And yet in thee no new cause shall we see:
+    Oft as to Charles is born new girl, new boy,
+    Sure Charles himself returns, and brings us joy.  R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+IN FACIEM AUGUSTISSIMI REGIS
+
+A MORBILLIS INTEGRAM.[122]
+
+
+    Musa redi, vocat alma parens Aeademia: noster
+      En redit, ore suo noster Apollo redit;
+    Vultus adhuc suus, et vultu sua purpura tantum
+      Vivit, et admixtas pergit amare nives.
+    Tune illas violare genas? tune illa profanis,
+      Morbe ferox, tentas ire per ora notis?
+    Tu Phoebi faciem tentas, vanissime? Nostra
+      Nec Phoebe maculas novit habere suas.
+    Ipsa sui vindex facies morbum indignatur;
+      Ipsa sedet radiis o bene tuta suis:
+    Quippe illic Deus est. coelumque et sanctius astrum:
+      Quippe sub his totus ridet Apollo genis.
+    Quod facie Rex tutus erat, quod caetera tactus:
+      Hinc hominem Rex est fassus, et inde Deum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE FACE OF THE MOST AUGUST KING.
+
+UNINJURED BY SMALL-POX.
+
+    Come, Muse, at call of thy Academy:
+    With his own face our Phoebus here we see;
+    His face his own yet, with its own red dyed,
+    Which with its whiteness loves to be allied.
+    O fierce disease, dost thou, with marks profane,
+    Attempt these cheeks, that countenance, to stain?
+    Most futile! Dost attempt our Phoebus' face?
+    Not in our Phoebe her own spots canst trace.
+    His self-asserting face disdains disease;
+    'Mid its own rays it sits, O well at ease.
+    Sure God and heaven and holiest star are here;
+    Sure 'neath these cheeks smiles Phoebus full and clear.
+    Our King being safe in face, but touch'd elsewhere,
+    Proves he was here a god, though a man there.     R. WI.
+
+
+IN SERENISSIMAE REGINAE
+
+PARTUM HIEMALEM.[123]
+
+    Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non praebeat hortus?
+      Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer.
+    Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres
+      Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.
+    Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras;
+      Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.
+    Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem,
+      Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur.
+    Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis
+      Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis?
+    Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis?
+      Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas?
+    O Maria, o divum soboles, genitrixque deorum,
+      Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?
+    Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumae
+      Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos?
+    Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma,
+      Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives?
+    Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris,
+      Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?
+    O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto
+      Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis;
+    O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi
+      Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes;
+    Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis;
+      Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos.
+    Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri;
+      Inque uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui.
+    Sit nobis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras
+      Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis.
+    Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres,
+      Has per te roseas saepe videre nives.
+    Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum,
+      Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies:
+    Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?
+      Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?
+    Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum:
+      In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.
+    Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni:
+      Tempus et in titulos transeat omne tuos.
+    Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?
+      Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga?
+    Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroque:
+      Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.
+    Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum
+      Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam.
+    O bona sors anni, cum cuncti ex ordine menses
+      Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN WINTER.
+
+    Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now
+    Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou
+    Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,--snow?
+    Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know.
+    Winter upon our shores, and snow? the thing
+    Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring:
+    Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear
+    Beatings of wild December, Spring is here.
+    See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine
+    Spreads forth, what clusters on her boughs incline?
+    Say, when like this was Winter ever seen
+    To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen,
+    Offspring of gods, and mother! do we see
+    The seasons thus a plaything made for thee?
+    Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain,
+    That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain.
+    And do the lilies by thy grace alone
+    Spring up, and know no snows except their own?
+    In spite of all that Winter may oppose,
+    Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose?
+    O thou most blest disturber of the year,
+    Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here
+    To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind
+    Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind
+    All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare
+    We pray thee, thus to force our calendar
+    With thy fair violence; continue still
+    The months to number at thine own sweet will;
+    Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome,
+    Make all things subject to thy royal womb.
+    So, by thy grace, may it be often ours
+    To see dethroned Winter deck'd in flowers;
+    On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze,
+    Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays!
+    Let others by the stars compute their year,
+    And count their days as wandering signs appear:
+    Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm
+    With cruel change our seasons dare deform;
+    To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign,
+    O spend it all i' those rich births of thine!
+    So the whole year shall own thy womb to be
+    Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee
+    Merge all its titles. Where's the month could bear
+    A more delicious name, or ever wear
+    More whiteness? Janus, for his double crown,
+    Covets this laurel; Maius for his own
+    Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost.
+    Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost
+    His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite
+    To take their empire. O blest year, how bright
+    Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim
+    From Mary or from Charles its mighty name!            G.
+
+
+AD REGINAM
+
+ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.[124]
+
+    Huc o sacris circumflua coetibus,
+    Huc o frequentem, Musa, choris pedem
+    Fer, annuo doctum labore
+              Purpureas agitare cunas.
+    Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam
+    Maria partu nobilis altero,
+    Prolemque Musarum ministram
+              Egregius sibi poscit infans.
+    Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici
+    Sibive soli facta puerpera est:
+    Partu repercusso, vel absens,
+              Perpetuos procreat gemellos.
+    Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit,
+    Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit,
+    Quae spiritum vitamque donat
+              Principibus simul et Camaenis.
+    Possit Camaenas, non sine numine,
+    Lassare nostras diva puerpera,
+    Et gaudiis siccare totam
+              Perpetuis Heliconis undam.
+    Quin experiri pergat, et in vices
+    Certare sanctis conditionibus:
+    Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro
+              Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci.
+    Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras,
+      Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens.
+    Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas--
+      Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!--vices.
+    Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni:
+      Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    Hither, Muse, and bring again
+    Thy august surrounding train;
+    With measur'd tread of practis'd feet
+    Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet
+    With the voice of loyal cheer
+    A princely cradle year by year.
+    Lo, our noble Queen on thee
+    Calls in fruitful rivalry
+    By another birth; and he,
+    Illustrious infant, needs must have
+    The Muses' offspring for his slave.
+    Never has she yet been known
+    A mother for herself alone,
+    But by a reflected might
+    Even in absence doth delight
+    In twins ever, and while she
+    Thus augments her progeny,
+    And gives vigour to the lyre,
+    She doth at once with life inspire
+    Young princes, and the Muses' quire.
+    These, though not untouch'd they be
+    With the sacred flame, may she
+    Tire in her fruitful deity,
+    And with joys that theirs outrun,
+    Dry at last all Helicon!
+    Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove
+    Her powers, she deigns by rule to move;
+    Nor an unbecoming stain
+    Is the dust that they must gain,
+    Who in such contest can but fight in vain.
+    Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming,
+      Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair:
+    On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming,
+      A better Nature, with a rule how rare!
+    Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way;
+    A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of
+              Day.                                       CL.
+
+
+SERENISSIMAE REGINAE LIBRUM SUUM
+
+COMMENDAT ACADEMIA.
+
+    Hunc quoque materna, nimium nisi magna rogamus,
+      Aut aviae saltem sume, Maria, manu.
+    Est Musa de matre recens rubicundulus infans,
+      Cui pater est partus--quis putet?--ille tuus.
+    Usque adeo impatiens amor est in virgine Musa:
+      Jam nunc ex illo non negat esse parens.
+    De nato quot habes olim sperare nepotes,
+      Qui simul et pater est, et facit esse patrem!
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO HER MOST SERENE MAJESTY
+
+THE UNIVERSITY COMMENDS ITS BOOK.
+
+    Deign, Queen, to this, unless we ask too much,
+    A mother's, or at least grandmother's, touch.
+    It is the Muse's rosy infant fine;
+    Its father--who would think?--this Child of thine.
+    So unrestrain'd the love of virgin Muse,
+    To be a mother thus she can't refuse.
+    From _him_ what grandsons round thee soon will gather,
+    Who at once father is, and makes a father!        R. WI.
+
+
+PRINCIPI RECENS NATAE
+
+OMEN MATERNAE INDOLIS.[125]
+
+    Cresce, o dulcibus imputanda divis;
+    O cresce, et propera, puella princeps,
+    In matris propera venire partes.
+    Et cum par breve fulminum minorum,
+    Illinc Carolus, et Jacobus inde,
+    In patris faciles subire famam,
+    Ducent fata furoribus decoris;
+    Cum terror sacer Anglicique magnum
+    Murmur nominis increpabit omnem
+    Late Bosporon Ottomanicasque
+    Non picto quatiet tremore Lunas;
+    Te tunc altera nec timenda paci
+    Poscent praelia; tu potens pudici
+    Vibratrix oculi, pios in hostes
+    Late dulcia fata dissipabis.
+    O eum flos tener ille, qui recenti
+    Pressus sidere jam sub ora ludit,
+    Olim fortior omne cuspidatos
+    Evolvet latus aureum per ignes;
+    Quique imbellis adhuc, adultus olim,
+    Puris expatiabitur genarum
+    Campis imperiosior Cupido;
+    O quam certa superbiore penna
+    Ibunt spicula melleaeque mortes,
+    Exultantibus hinc et inde turmis,
+    Quoquo jusseris, impigre volabunt!
+    O quot corda calentium deorum
+    De te vulnera delicata discent!
+    O quot pectora principum magistris
+    Fient molle negotium sagittis!
+    Nam quae non poteris per arma ferri,
+    Cui matris sinus atque utrumque sidus
+    Magnorum patet officina amorum?
+    Hinc sumas licet, o puella princeps,
+    Quantacunque opus est tibi pharetra.
+    Centum sume Cupidines ab uno
+    Matris lumine Gratiasque centum
+    Et centum Veneres: adhuc manebunt
+    Centum mille Cupidines; manebunt
+    Tercentum Veneresque Gratiaeque
+    Puro fonte superstites per aevum.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Grow, maiden Princess, and increase,
+    Thou who with the sweet goddesses
+    Thy place shalt have; O haste to be
+    Thy mother's own epitome;
+    And when that pair of minor flames,
+    Thy princely brothers Charles and James,
+    Apt in the footsteps of their sire,
+    Lead on the Fates in glorious ire;
+    When o'er the Bosphorus shall creep
+    A thrill of dread, as rolls full deep
+    The murmur of the British name,
+    And with no feign'd alarm shall shame
+    The Turkish Crescent--other wars,
+    And such as bring sweet Peace no tears
+    Shall call thee forth; and from on high
+    The flashing of thy modest eye
+    Shall scatter o'er adoring foes
+    Thick volleys of delicious woes.
+    O, when that tender bloom which now
+    Plays, lately born, beneath thy brow,
+    In time to come with mightier blaze
+    Shall dart around its pointed rays;
+    When he, the Cupid now so mild,
+    No longer but a harmless child,
+    Shall range in youth's imperious pride
+    Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,--
+    O then with what unerring skill,
+    Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,
+    While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow
+    Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!
+    How many god-like breasts shall learn
+    From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!
+    How often shall thy mastering darts
+    Work their sweet will on princely hearts!
+    For what may she not do in war,
+    Whose mother's breast--with each bright star
+    That rul'd her birth--to her but proves
+    A storehouse of all-conquering loves?
+      Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,
+    Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.
+    A hundred Cupids be thy prize,
+    From one of thy bright mother's eyes;
+    A hundred graces add to these,
+    And then a hundred Venuses:
+    A hundred-thousand Cupids still
+    Are hers; three hundred Graces will,
+    With Venuses in equal store,
+    Haunt that pure fount for evermore.                CL.
+
+
+
+
+IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS.[126]
+
+
+    Parce tuo jam, bruma ferox, o parce furori,
+    Pone animos; o pacatae da spiritus aurae,
+    Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum.
+    Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster
+    Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat;
+    Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis;
+    Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares,
+    Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster.
+    Scilicet hoc decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum
+    Attollit series, adeo commune serenum
+    Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas;
+    Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras
+    Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis?
+    Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae
+    Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu
+    Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes
+    Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis
+    Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata
+    Luxurie, tanta o circum cunabula surgat,
+    Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus.
+      Quippe venit, sacris iterum vagitibus ingens
+    Aula sonat, venit en roseo decus addita fratri
+    Blanda soror. Tibi se brevibus, tibi porrigit ulnis,
+    Magne puer, facili tibi torquet hiantia risu
+    Ora; tibi molles lacrymas et nobile murmur
+    Temperat, inque tuo ponit se pendula collo.
+    Tale decus juncto veluti sub stemmate cum quis
+    Dat sociis lucere rosis sua lilia. Talis
+    Fulget honos medio cum se duo sidera mundo
+    Dulcibus intexunt radiis: nec dignior olim
+    Flagrabat nitidae felix consortio formae,
+    Tunc cum sidereos inter pulcherrima fratres
+    Erubuit primum, et Laedaeo cortice rupto
+    Tyndarida explicuit tenerae nova gaudia frontis.
+      Sic socium o miscete jubar, tu candide frater,
+    Tuque serena soror. Sic o date gaudia patri,
+    Sic matri cumque ille olim subeuntibus annis,
+    Ire inter proprios magna cervice triumphos.
+    Egregius volet, atque sua se discere dextra;
+    Te quoque tum pleno mulcebit sidere, et alto
+    Flore tui dulcesque oculos maturior ignis
+    Indole divina, et radiis intinget honoris.
+    Tunc o te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa,
+    Esse suam Phoeben fulsus jurabit Apollo;
+    Tunc o te quoties, nisi quod tu castior illa,
+    Esse suam Venerem Mavors jurabit inanis.
+    Felix, ah, et cui se non Mars, non aureus ipse
+    Credet Apollo parem; tanta cui conjuge celsus
+    In pulchros properare sinus, et carpere sacras
+    Delicias oculosque tuos, tua basia solus
+    Tum poterit dixisse sua; et se nectare tanto
+    Dum probat esse Deum, superas contemnere mensas.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCESS MARY.
+
+    Forbear thy fury, Winter fierce, forbear;
+    Lay down thy wrath, and let the tranquil air
+    With inspiration mild soothe the stern year:
+    This time deserves it, and occasion dear.
+    The wild North-wind may rage and wildly bluster;
+    The gusty South its rainy clouds may muster;
+    Yet here at least, if thou but will it so,
+    Neither wild North nor gusty South will blow.
+    For were it seemly, when events so bright
+    Exalt us, and the universal light
+    Of joy and vernal pleasure thrills the soul,
+    Grim lines of battling tempest-clouds should roll
+    Through all the air, and drown the year with rain?
+    Better old Winter should bright youth regain,
+    And turn at once to Spring; with tumult sweet
+    Hasten his purple stores, and joyful greet
+    With all his outpour'd heart this shining Day,
+    And bid its fragrant hours for ever stay;
+    Making a radiant wealth of flowers abound
+    Where in her cradle that sweet Child is found,
+    Her tender limbs caress and softly compass round.
+      She comes! Once more are heard those blessed cries
+    Within the palace. See a glory rise--
+    A star-like glory added to the other,
+    A charming sister to a rosy brother!
+    To this she stretches out her tiny arms,
+    Fair Boy--for thee displays the winsome charms
+    Of her sweet smiles, and checks her gentle tears,
+    And coos and prattles to delight thine ears,
+    Or fondly hangs upon thy neck. Such grace
+    Pleases the eye, when, their stalks joined, you place
+    Lilies with roses to combine their splendour.
+    And then appears such lustrous glory tender,
+    When in the midst of heaven, at dewy eve,
+    Two stars their gentle radiance interweave.
+    Nor loftier grace that beauteous union show'd
+    When from her egg the fairest Helen glow'd
+    Betwixt her starry brothers, and display'd
+    Her tender brow with new delights array'd.
+      So mix your common beam, thou brother fair
+    And sister mild. Such joys your father share
+    And mother dear! And when, as seasons roll,
+    He moves with head erect and princely soul
+    Amid his proper triumphs, and shall learn
+    Himself by his own deeds, thou shalt discern
+    A riper flame within thee, heavenly dower,
+    And star full-orb'd shalt shine, and full-grown flower;
+    While a soft beauty bathes thy lustrous eyes,
+    And rays of majesty the world surprise.
+      Then O how oft, but that thou art more fair,
+    Will some imaginary Phoebus swear
+    That thou art his own Phoebe! or again
+    But that thou art more chaste, some Mars in vain
+    Will swear thou art his Venus, love's soft strain!
+      Ah, happy he, to whom nor Mars will dream
+    Nor golden Phoebus he can equal seem,
+    Who with a wife so sweet, so fair is blest,
+    And all the fond affection of thy breast,
+    And tender, pure endearments; who alone
+    Can call thy eyes and kisses all his own;
+    And while he quaffs such nectar'd wine of love,
+    Feels like a god, and scorns the feasts above.    R. WI.
+
+
+AD REGINAM.[127]
+
+    Et vero jam tempus erat tibi, maxima mater,
+      Dulcibus his oculis accelerare diem:
+    Tempus erat, ne qua tibi basia blanda vacarent;
+      Sarcina ne collo sit minus apta tuo.
+    Scilicet ille tuus, timor et spes ille suorum,                  5
+      Quo primum es felix pignore facta parens,
+    Ille ferox iras jam nunc meditatur et enses,
+      Jam patris magis est, jam magis ille suus.
+    Indolis o stimulos; vix dum illi transiit infans,
+      Jamque sibi impatiens arripit ille virum.                    10
+    Improbus ille suis adeo negat ire sub annis:
+      Jam nondum puer est, major et est puero.
+    Si quis in aulaeis pictas animatus in iras
+      Stat leo, quem docta cuspide lusit acus,
+    Hostis, io, est; neque enim ille alium dignabitur hostem;      15
+      Nempe decet tantas non minor ira manus.
+    Tunc hasta gravis adversum furit; hasta bacillum est;
+      Mox falsum vero vulnere pectus hiat.
+    Stat leo, ceu stupeat tali bene fixus ab hoste,
+      Ceu quid in his oculis vel timeat vel amet,                  20
+    Tam torvum, tam dulce micant: nescire fatetur
+      Mars ne sub his oculis esset, an esset amor.
+    Quippe illic Mars est, sed qui bene possit amari;
+      Est et amor certe, sed metuendus amor:
+    Talis amor, talis Mars est ibi cernere; qualis                 25
+      Seu puer hic esset, sive vir ille Deus.
+    Hic tibi jam scitus succedit in oscula fratris;
+      Res, ecce, in lusus non operosa tuos.
+    Basia jam veniant tua quantacunque caterva;
+      Jam quocunque tuus murmure ludat amor.                       30
+    En, tibi materies tenera et tractabilis hic est;
+      Hic ad blanditias est tibi cera satis.
+    Salve infans, tot basiolis, molle argumentum,
+      Maternis labiis dulce negotiolum;
+    O salve; nam te nato, puer auree, natus                        35
+      Et Carolo et Mariae tertius est oculus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE QUEEN.
+
+    'Twas now the time for thee, Mother most great,
+    With these sweet eyes the day to accelerate;
+    Time thy soft kisses should not idle be,
+    Or from fit burden thy fair neck be free.
+    For he, his parents' fear and hope confest,
+    With whom thou first wast made a mother blest,
+    He wraths and swords designs, courageous grown;
+    Now more his father's is, and more his own.
+    O spurs of nature! yet an infant, see
+    He catches at the man impatiently,
+    The rogue declines to keep in his own years;
+    Not yet a child, he more than child appears.
+    If on the tapestry, with feign'd anger fraught,
+    A lion stands, by skilful needle wrought,
+    A foe behold; such foe to fight he deigns;
+    A lesser wrath his mighty hand disdains.
+    Fierce spear he brandishes; a wand his spear:
+    Soon in false breast behold true wound appear.
+    The lion stands, maz'd by such enemy,
+    Fearing or loving something in his eye,
+    So sternly, sweetly bright; nor can he tell
+    Whether beneath that eye Mars or Love dwell.
+    In sooth, a Mars who may be lov'd is here;
+    And Love indeed, but Love deserving fear.
+    Such Love, such Mars, 'tis easy here to scan;
+    This god or that, as he is boy or man.
+      Thy babe now comes to take the endearing place,
+    A creature not beyond thy fond embrace.
+    Now let thy troops of kisses have their way,
+    Now let thy love with brooding murmur play;
+    Here is material tractable and tender,
+    Which waxen surface to soft touch shall render.
+    Hail, infant! gentle subject for caresses,
+    Employment sweet a mother's lips which blesses;
+    O hail; for with thy birth, thou golden boy,
+    Lo, to thy parents a third eye brings joy!        R. WI.
+
+
+VOTIVA DOMUS PETRENSIS
+
+PRO DOMO DEI.[128]
+
+    Ut magis in mundi votis aviumque querelis
+    Jam veniens solet esse dies, ubi cuspide prima
+    Palpitat, et roseo lux praevia ludit ab ortu;
+    Cum nec abest Phoebus, nec Eois laetus habenis
+    Totus adest, volucrumque procul vaga murmura mulcet:
+      Nos ita; quos nuper radiis afflavit honestis              6
+    Relligiosa dies; nostrique per atria coeli--
+    Sacra domus nostrum est coelum--jam luce tenella
+    Libat adhuc trepidae fax nondum firma diei:
+    Nos ita jam exercet nimii impatientia voti,                 10
+    Speque sui propiore premit.
+                                Quis pectora tanti
+    Tendit amor coepti, desiderio quam longo
+    Lentae spes inhiant, domus o dulcissima rerum,
+    Plena Deo domus! Ah, quis erit, quis, dicimus, ille--
+    O bonus, o ingens meritis, o proximus ipsi,                 16
+    Quem vocat in sua dona, Deo--quo vindice totas
+    Excutiant tenebras haec sancta crepuscula?
+                                                Quando,
+    Quando erit, ut tremulae flos heu tener ille diei,          20
+    Qui velut ex oriente suo jam altaria circum
+    Lambit, et ambiguo nobis procul anuit astro,
+    Plenis se pandat foliis, et lampade tota
+    Laetus, ut e medio cum sol micat aureus axe,
+    Attonitam penetrare domum bene possit adulto                25
+    Sidere, nec dubio pia moenia mulceat ore?
+      Quando erit, ut convexa suo quoque pulchra sereno
+    Florescant, roseoque tremant laquearia risu?
+    Quae nimium informis tanquam sibi conscia frontis
+    Perpetuis jam se lustrant lacrymantia guttis?               30
+      Quando erit, ut claris meliori luce fenestris
+    Plurima per vitreos vivat pia pagina vultus?
+      Quando erit, ut sacrum nobis celebrantibus hymnum
+    Organicos facili et nunquam fallente susurro
+    Nobile murmur agat nervos; pulmonis iniqui                  35
+    Fistula nec monitus faciat malefida sinistros?
+      Denique, quicquid id est quod res hic sacra requirit,
+    Fausta illa et felix--sitque o tua--dextra, suam cui
+    Debeat haec Aurora diem. Tibi supplicat ipsa,
+    Ipsa tibi facit ara preces. Tu jam illius audi,             40
+    Audiet illa tuas. Dubium est, modo porrige dextram,
+    Des magis, an capias: audi tantum esse beatus,
+    Et damnum hoc lucrare tibi.
+                                  Scis ipse volucres
+    Quae rota volvat opes; has ergo, hic fige perennis          45
+    Fundamenta Domus Petrensi in rupe, suamque
+    Fortunae sic deme rotam. Scis ipse procaces
+    Divitias quam prona vagos vehat ala per Euros;
+    Divitiis illas, age, deme volucribus alas,
+    Facque suus nostras illis sit nidus ad aras:                50
+    Remigii ut tandem pennas melioris adeptae,
+    Se rapiant, dominumque suum super aethera secum.
+      Felix o qui sic potuit bene providus uti
+    Fortunae pennis et opum levitate suarum,
+    Divitiisque suis aquilae sic addidit alas.                  55
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+THE PRAYER OF PETERHOUSE FOR THE HOUSE OF GOD [=ITS CHAPEL].
+
+    As bids the Day a keener longing stir
+    The waking world, and warblings cheerier
+    To birds inspires, when comes she o'er the hills,
+    As quivering dart the streaks of Morn, and thrills
+    Through lattic'd sky from roseate East the light
+    Presaging his approach; nor absent quite,
+    Nor glorying in his slacken'd reins, the Sun
+    Is present all; and birds, to music won
+    By gentle touch, are murmuring far and near,--
+    So we, on whom with radiance severe
+    A solemn day begins to dawn; whose eye
+    Now sees glide through the heavenly courts which lie,
+    With portals wide--God's house is heaven, we say--
+    The flame unsteady of still wavering Day
+    Slenderly stealing in; the prospect nigher,
+    Our hearts too labour with extreme desire,
+    And throb with hopes impatient of their end.
+      How love of such a work our heart doth rend!
+    How long desire makes hopes in leash restrain'd
+    To pant! O sweetest House, on which has rain'd
+    The torrent of God's fulness. Ah, who is he,
+    Ah, who--O good, O huge in charity,
+    O nigh to God Himself,--Whom to descend
+    On His own gracious gifts he prays--shall lend
+    This sacred twilight power to drive away
+    All gloom, and shake her raiment into day?
+    Ah, when, thou pitifully trem'lous bloom
+    Of glimmering Day, that as from bridal room
+    In the Orient cam'st to kiss our altar-stone,
+    And beckonest to us from a star alone,
+    In yonder distance shining doubtfully,--
+    Ah, when wilt thou expand to Day, and, free
+    In conscious joy of thy full splendour, pour
+    A flood of light, as when the Sun doth soar
+    In golden mid-day, and, to full age grown,
+    Shine through and through the pile, and make it own
+    With awe thy sway, nor let the sacred walls
+    Doubt thy embrace?
+                        Blest he to whom befalls
+    To see the vaulted roofs span their fair sky,
+    And break in flowers, while fretted ceilings lie
+    Trembling with rosy laughter; which do now,
+    As wearing of their shame a conscious brow,
+    Bedew their formless face with dropping tear.
+    When shall it be? the window growing clear
+    With better light, that many a page devout
+    May live, and life from glassy face breathe out.
+    Ah, when, as hymn of praise we celebrate,
+    Shall solemn-breathing murmur make vibrate
+    The organ's nerves with graceful ceaseless hum;
+    Nor pipe of lung unjust intruding come,
+    Each harsh, uncertain note for ever dumb?
+      Whatever else, in fine, this Sanctuary
+    May need, that right-hand bless'd and happy be,
+    And be it thine! to which the Dawn shall owe
+    Its day. The altar kneels to thee. Do thou
+    List to her prayer, and she will thine allow;
+    Stretch out thy laden hand, and doubtful live
+    Whether thou dost not more receive than give;
+    That thou art happy do thou only hear,
+    And turn thy loss to gain in yonder sphere.
+    Thou know'st what wheel makes riches fly away;
+    These riches therefore here securely lay,
+    Fountains of a House perennial,
+    On the Petrensian rock; from Fortune shall
+    Her own wheel thus be wrench'd. Thou knowest how prone
+    A wing bears up unconstant riches, blown
+    On vagrant, veering winds. Come, take away
+    These wings from fleeting riches, make them stay
+    At these our altars, and build here their nest;
+    Till arm'd with wings to better flight redress'd,
+    They may transport themselves to the home of rest,
+    Bearing their master with them.
+                                      Blest that man
+    Who knowing prudently the times to scan,
+    The airiness of wealth to profit brings,
+    And him on Fortune's pinions deftly flings,
+    And to his riches adds an eagle's wings.            S.S.
+
+
+
+
+IN CAETERORUM OPERUM
+
+DIFFICILI PARTURITIONE GEMITUS.[129]
+
+
+    O felix nimis illa, et nostrae nobile nomen
+    Invidiae volucris, facili quae funere surgens
+    Mater odora sui, nitidae nova fila juventae,
+    Et festinatos peragit sibi fata per ignes.
+    Illa, haud natales tot tardis mensibus horas                   5
+    Tam miseris tenuata moris, saltu velut uno
+    In nova secla rapit sese, et caput omne decoras
+    Explicat in frondes, roseoque repullulat ortu.
+    Cinnameos simul illa rogos conscenderit, omnem
+    Laeta bibit Phoebum, et jam jam victricibus alis              10
+    Plaudit humum cineresque suos.
+                              Heu, dispare fato
+    Nos ferimur; seniorque suo sub Apolline phoenix
+    Petrensis mater, dubias librata per auras
+    Pendet adhuc, quaeritque sinum in quo ponat inertes           15
+    Exuvias, spoliisque suae reparata senectae
+    Ore pari surgat, similique per omnia vultu.
+    At nunc heu nixu secli melioris in ipso
+    Deliquium patitur!
+    At nunc heu lentae longo in molimine vitae                    20
+    Interea moritur! Dubio stant moenia vultu
+    Parte sui pulchra, et fratres in foedera muros
+    Invitant frustra, nec respondentia saxis
+    Saxa suis; moerent opera intermissa, manusque
+    Implorant.                                                    25
+                  Succurre piae, succurre parenti,
+    O quisquis pius es. Illi succurre parenti,
+    Quam sibi tot sanctae matres habuere parentem.
+    Quisquis es, o tibi, crede, tibi tot hiantia ruptis
+    Moenibus ora loqui. Matrem tibi, crede verendam               30
+    Muros tam longo laceros senioque situque
+    Ceu canos monstrare suos. Succurre roganti.
+    Per tibi plena olim, per jam sibi sicca precatur
+    Ubera, ne desis senio. Sic longa juventus
+    Te foveat, querulae nunquam cessura senectae.                 35
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+A GROAN
+
+ON OCCASION OF THE DIFFICULT PARTURITION OF THE REMAINING WORKS OF
+PETERHOUSE.
+
+    O bird too fortunate, whose glorious name
+    Fills us with envy of her happy fame,
+    Which by an easy death on soaring wing,
+    Sweet mother of herself, doth upwards spring,
+    Assumes afresh her shining youth's attire,
+    And wins new lease of life through hasten'd fire!
+    She--not through slow-revolving natal days
+    To a thin shadow worn by sad delays--
+    Transports herself into another round
+    Of centuries, as by a single bound;
+    With beauteous leaves her head she covers o'er,
+    And with a rosy birth shoots forth once more.
+    Soon as she climbs the spicy funeral pyre
+    Joyful she drinks the sun, and mounting higher,
+    Now, now the ground her wings victorious strike,
+    And her own ashes.
+                          But, alas, we follow
+    No such example. 'Neath her own Apollo,
+    Our Mother Peterhouse, now ancient grown,
+    Our aged Phoenix, hither, thither blown,
+    And balancing herself on doubtful air,
+    Hovers with wing uncertain, seeking where
+    Her relics she may lay, worn out with toils,
+    As in a nest, and from the very spoils
+    Of her own age renew'd, she may arise
+    In perfect comeliness of face and eyes,
+    As in the days of old, to mount the skies.
+      But now, alas, e'en in the very throes
+    Of her reviving age our Phoenix knows
+    And keenly feels a sad deficiency.
+    Alas, in life's long lingering effort she
+    Now in the mean while dies. Of doubtful face,
+    Her buildings seem in part bedeck'd with grace;
+    But elsewhere, heedless of inviting calls
+    To union, stand the unfinish'd brother walls.
+    On unresponsive ears the summons falls;
+    As stones to fellow-stones appealing turn,
+    The interrupted works together mourn,
+    And beg a helping hand. O, succour bring,
+    Whoe'er is pious, to the parent wing
+    Which shelter'd thee beneath its holy shade,
+    And gave so many mother churches[130] aid
+    Parental; O, be now thy help display'd.
+    Whoe'er thou art, the ruin'd courts to thee
+    With gaping mouths are speaking audibly.
+    Thy reverend mother would thine eyes engage
+    To view thy walls, dismantled long with age
+    And base neglect, and ponder her gray hair.
+    By the full breasts which once she offer'd thee,
+    By the dry breasts which she is doom'd to see
+    Now for herself, she cries imploringly:
+    'My age to help, O fail not to appear;
+    So may long-lasting youth thy bosom cheer,
+    Youth which complaining age shall never fear.'    R. WI.
+
+
+TRANSLATION (_more freely_).
+
+A LAMENT
+
+OVER THE SLOW RESTORATION OF PETERHOUSE-COLLEGE BUILDINGS.
+
+    O Phoenix, all-too-happy bird,
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Thou, thine own mother, from the pyre--
+    Spices mix'd with flickering fire--
+    Sweetly didst thy breath suspire;
+    Then rose again, and thy age gone
+    In a swift resurrection--
+    Gone! by wondrous mystic skill
+    Wearing a richer plumage still,
+    Youth renew'd from feet to bill,--
+    Thou didst not linger in thine age,
+    Nor a slow weary struggle wage,
+    With changing cures and long delay
+    Searching for life in every way.
+    No; but a quick fate self-choosing,
+    All hindering self-ruth refusing,
+    Thou didst raise thy funeral pyre,
+    Thou didst hovering i' the fire,
+    From amidst the perfum'd flame
+    Spring up, immortal as thy fame.
+    Thou didst lift thy comely head,
+    Ev'ry moulting feather shed;
+    Thou didst raise thy radiant breast
+    Blazing to the blazing West.
+    O Phoenix, thou'rt an awful bird;
+    Who enviless thy fame has heard?
+    Climbing to thy funeral pyre,
+    Climbing self-martyr'd to the fire,
+    Sweetly there to bear thine ire;
+    Fetching down from the great sun
+    To piled nest of cinnamon
+    Rays intense; then upward winging,
+    Sudden from thine ashes springing;
+    Victorious by this quaint mewing,
+    Life strangely out of death renewing;
+    Now i' the red fire consuming,
+    Next at the sun thine eyes reluming.
+      Alas, how different is the fate
+    In this our later age, ingrate,
+    Of her, my mother-college, lying
+    All desolate and slowly dying;
+    Lifting but a feeble wing,
+    Though once, as Phoenix of the fire,
+    Springing immortal from its pyre;
+    When Apollo and the Graces
+    Reign'd where Ruin now defaces,
+    Gave her, when she shone in splendour,
+    Orator, sage, and poet tender;
+    Gave her sons, noble and good,
+    Better than the bluest blood:
+    O how chang'd, since those days olden
+    Such as in the ages golden,
+    I behold her, smitten, lorn,
+    And by every Fury torn,
+    Hanging in uncertain strife
+    As it were 'twixt death and life;
+    Doubting whether e'en she shall
+    Have so much as funeral;
+    Her corpse laid in some quiet bay,
+    Where the sea-waves softly play;
+    Willing they should take her bones--
+    Her time-stain'd, rent, and shatter'd stones;
+    If only thus but once again
+    Rebuilded, she might yet attain
+    To something of her old renown
+    By such resurrection,
+    And, phoenix-like, herself out-do
+    In her best days when she was new.
+    O ye sons, your mother own
+    In her desolation;
+    Own her, though in aging years
+    She shows few and thin gray hairs,
+    Where once,--ah--in brave times of old--
+    Flash'd her proud locks with sheen of gold.
+    Ah, Peter nam'd, thou art denied,
+    Thus is thy name verified.
+    'Tis a spectacle for tears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for fears;
+    'Tis a spectacle for wonder;
+    'Tis a crime deserves the thunder,
+    That from base to gold-touch'd ceiling
+    Day by day her halls are reeling;
+    Mullion'd window torn and rent,
+    And destruction imminent;
+    Everywhere such gaping wounds
+    As a stranger e'en astounds;
+    And what was in faith begun
+    Left in desolation;
+    Stone to stone in mute appealing,
+    Cold neglect and scorn revealing,
+    And the font of tears unsealing.
+    Sons of my Mother-College lying
+    All in ruins and slow dying,
+    If ye have aught of piety
+    Or least touch of charity,
+    Look on these broken walls, and see
+    Your mother in her misery;
+    Holding up, in vain appealing,
+    Wither'd hands, her woes revealing;
+    And in the rank growths tangled there
+    See her dishonoured gray hair.
+      Woe is me, her genial breast,
+    Which so many sons has blest,
+    Each all welcoming that came,
+    Drawn by her renowned name,
+    Wither'd, shrunk, can quench no thirst,
+    Ah, my heart with grief will burst.
+    To my dim eye there rises clear
+    The full tide that once roll'd here;
+    Now shingle, sand, and fest'ring mud
+    Tell of the far-refluent flood.
+      O, pity her, ye sons, and vow
+    Once more to crown your mother's brow;
+    Once more to rear her crumbling walls;
+    Once more to gather in her halls
+    The young, the brave, the true, the good,
+    The wise, the noble; and the Rood
+    Over all shall bless and keep;
+    So in old age ye shall not weep,
+    Nor ever shall your fair fame sleep.                  G.
+
+
+VENERABILI VIRO MAGISTRO TOURNAY,
+
+TUTORI SUO SUMME OBSERVANDO.
+
+    Messis inauravit Cereri jam quarta capillos,
+      Vitis habet Bacchum quarta corona suae,
+    Nostra ex quo, primis plumae vix alba pruinis,
+      Ausa tuo Musa est nidificare sinu.
+    Hic nemus, hic soles, et coelum mitius illi;                  5
+      Hic sua quod Musis umbra vel aura dedit.
+    Sedit ibi secura malus quid moverit Auster,
+      Quae gravis hibernum vexerit ala Jovem.
+    Nescio quo interea multum tibi murmure nota est:
+      Nempe sed hoc poteras murmur amare tamen.                  10
+    Tandem ecce, heu simili de prole puerpera! tandem
+      Hoc tenero tenera est pignore facta parens.
+    Jamque meam hanc sobolem, rogo, quis sinus alter haberet?
+      Quis mihi tam noti nempe teporis erat?
+    Sed quoque et ipsa meus, de te, meus, improba, tutor,        15
+      Quam primum potuit dicere, dixit, erit.
+    Has ego legitimae, nec laevo sidere natae
+      Non puto degeneres indolis esse notas;
+    Nempe quod illa suo patri tam semper apertos,
+      Tam semper faciles norit adire sinus.                      20
+    Ergo tuam tibi sume: tuas eat illa sub alas:
+      Hoc quoque de nostro, quod tuearis, habe.
+    Sic quae Suada tuo fontem sibi fecit in ore,
+      Sancto et securo melle perennis eat.
+    Sic tua, sic nullas Siren non mulceat aures,                 25
+      Aula cui plausus et sua serta dedit.
+    Sic tuus ille, precor, Tagus aut eat obice nullo,
+      Aut omni, quod adhuc, obice major eat.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THE VENERABLE MAN MASTER TOURNAY,
+
+MY TUTOR MOST REVERED.[131]
+
+    A fourth time now our glebe for Ceres bears
+    The golden locks of harvest; Bacchus wears
+    Now the fourth season his bright vine-leaf crown,
+    Since, scant'ly hoar as yet with the soft down
+    Of her first plumage, in thy gentle breast
+    My young Muse dar'd to build herself a nest.
+    Here found she sun and shade and gentler heaven,
+    And what with these is by the Muses given
+    Were hers. Here sat she careless how the skies
+    Might darken, or the blasts of winter rise;
+    And here her voice reach'd thee, but by what move
+    Of fate I know not, only that thy love
+    Her voice did win; and now at length behold--
+    And ah, how much the child her arms enfold
+    Is like the mother!--she in tender years
+    The parent of a tender babe appears.
+    What lap, then, for this infant shall I find
+    Fitter than thine, or known by me so kind?
+    Yea, soon as she could speak, the wanton, she
+    Said, 'He shall be my guardian,' meaning thee;
+    And no ill forecast I would deem is this
+    Of Genius true and favouring deities,
+    That she so early should a sire divine
+    Always so open, always so benign.
+    Take, then, thine own--she is beneath thy wing--
+    And of this gift accept the offering.
+    So may Persuasion, who her fount has made
+    Upon thy lips, still pour from thence unstay'd
+    Her sacred honey; so be at the Court,
+    Whereto with plausive wreaths she doth resort,
+    No ears thy Siren move not; so, I pray,
+    No hindering bar thy Tagus strive to stay,
+    Or only such as erst thy stream has swept away.      CL.
+
+
+
+
+ORNATISSIMO VIRO PRAECEPTORI SUO
+
+COLENDISSIMO MAGISTRO BROOK.
+
+
+    O mihi qui nunquam nomen non dulce fuisti,
+      Tunc quoque cum domini fronte timendus eras;
+    Ille ego pars vestri quondam intactissima regni,
+      De nullo virgae nota labore tuae,
+    Do tibi quod de te per secula longa queretur,
+      Quod de me nimium non metuendus eras:
+    Quod tibi turpis ego torpentis inertia sceptri
+      Tam ferulae tulerim mitia jura tuae.
+    Scilicet in foliis quicquid peccabitur istis,
+      Quod tua virga statim vapulet, illud erit;
+    Ergo tibi haec poenas pro me mea pagina pendat.
+      Hic agitur virgae res tibi multa tuae.
+    In me igitur quicquid nimis illa pepercerit olim,
+      Id licet in foetu vindicet omne meo.
+    Hic tuus inveniet satis in quo saeviat unguis,
+      Quodque veru docto trans obeliscus eat:
+    Scilicet haec mea sunt; haec quas mala scilicet: o si,
+      Quae tua nempe forent, hic meliora forent!
+    Qualiacunque, suum norunt haec flumina fontem--
+      Nilus ab ignoto fonte superbus eat--
+    Nec certe nihil est qua quis sit origine. Fontes
+      Esse solent fluvii nomen honorque sui.
+    Hic quoque tam parvus, de me mea secula dicant,
+      Non parvi soboles hic quoque fontis erat.
+    Hoc modo et ipse velis de me dixisse: Meorum
+      Ille fuit minimus--sed fuit ille meus.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+TO THAT MOST CULTURED MAN,
+
+HIS MOST ESTIMABLE TUTOR MASTER BROOK.[132]
+
+    O thou, whose name to me was still endear'd
+    E'en when the master's brow was justly fear'd;
+    I, of thy realm the most inviolate part,
+    By touch of thy birch-rod ne'er taught to smart,
+    Give thee what through long years complains of thee
+    That thou wast not enough a fear to me;
+    That I, base subject of thy sceptre slow,
+    Thy ferule's milder sway should only know.
+    Sooth, in these leaves what faults soe'er thou see,
+    Thy rod in every case should punish'd be.
+    Then let this page for me the suffering pay;
+    Here certainly thy rod may have full play;
+    Howe'er that rod to me was once too mild,
+    It may revenge it all on this my child;
+    Here will thy nail discover where to rage,
+    And scratch a learned blot across the page.
+    These which are bad, forsooth, these things are mine;
+    Would they were better, that they might be thine!
+    Whate'er they are, these streams their fountain know,
+    Nile from an unknown fount may proudly go.
+    Not lightly what one's source may be we deem;
+    Fountains give name and honour to their stream.
+    So small--my times perhaps may say of me--
+    An offspring of no fountain small was he.
+    Only to say of me may it be thine:
+    'He was my least indeed--but he was mine!'        R. WI.
+
+
+IN REV. DRE. BROOKE EPITAPHIUM.[133]
+
+    Posuit sub ista, non gravi, caput terra
+    Ille, ipsa quem mors arrogare vix ausa
+    Didicit vereri, plurimumque suspenso
+    Dubitavit ictu, lucidos procul vultus,
+    Et sidus oris acre procul prospectans.
+    Cui literarum fama cum dedit lumen,
+    Accepit, atque est ditior suis donis.
+    Cujus serena gravitas faciles mores
+    Muliere novit; cujus in senectute
+    Famaeque riguit, et juventa fortunae.
+    Ita brevis aevi, ut nec videri festinus;
+    Ita longus, ut nec fessus. Et hunc mori credis?
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH ON REV. DR. BROOK.
+
+    Beneath this earth, strew'd lightly, lies the head
+    Of one whom Death himself had learnt to dread,
+    Scarce venturing to claim; and falter'd much
+    Ere he allow'd his threatening stroke to touch
+    That sacred presence. These bright eyes from far
+    He view'd; from far that face ray'd like a star.
+    On whom when fame of letters lustre drew,
+    He took it as his right, and richer grew
+    By his own gifts to learning; whose serene
+    Severity of manners seem'd to have been
+    Temper'd by woman's softness; whose good name,
+    In later as in early years the same,
+    Stood firm; his fortune equal to his fame.
+    His life so short, that not in haste he seem'd;
+    So long, that weary he might not be deem'd:
+    That such a one is dead, can it be dream'd?       R. WI.
+
+
+
+
+EPITAPHIUM IN GULIELMUM HERRISIUM.[134]
+
+
+    Siste te paulum, viator, ubi longum sisti
+    Necesse erit, huc nempe properare te scias quocunque properas.
+                  Morae pretium erit
+                  Et lacrymae,
+                  Si jacere hic scias
+                  Gulielmum
+              Splendidae Herrisiorum familiae
+                  Splendorem maximum:
+              Quem cum talem vixisse intellexeris,
+                  Et vixisse tantum;
+                  Discas licet
+                  In quantas spes possit
+                  Assurgere mortalitas,
+                  De quantis cadere.
+                { Infantem    Essexia     }
+          Quem  { Juvenem     Cantabrigia } vidit
+                  Senem, ah infelix utraque
+                  Quod non vidit.
+                    Qui
+                  Collegii Christi Alumnus
+                  Aulae Pembrokianae socius,
+              Utrique ingens amoris certamen fuit,
+                    Donec
+                  Dulciss. lites elusit Deus,
+                  Eumque coelestis collegii,
+                  Cujus semper alumnus fuit,
+                    socium fecit;
+              Qui et ipse collegium fuit,
+                    In quo
+              Musae omnes et Gratiae,
+                  Nullibi magis sorores,
+                  Sub praeside religione,
+              In tenacissimum sodalitium coaluere.
+               { Oratoria      Oratorem    }
+               { Poetica       Poetam      }
+          Quem { Utraque       Philosophum } agnovere.
+               { Christianum   Omnes       }
+
+               { Fide          Mundum      }
+               { Spe           Coelum      }
+          Qui  { Charitate     Proximum    } superavit.
+               { Humilitate    Seipsum     }
+                            Cujus
+              Sub verna fronte senilis animus,
+              Sub morum facilitate, severitas virtutis;
+        Sub plurima indole, pauci anni;
+        Sub majore modestia, maxima indoles
+              adeo se occuluerunt
+                  ut vitam ejus
+    Pulchram dixeris et pudicam dissimulationem:
+        Imo vero et mortem,
+        Ecce enim in ipso funere
+        Dissimulari se passus est,
+    Sub tantillo marmore tantum hospitem,
+        Eo nimirum majore monumento quo minore tumulo.
+    Eo ipso die occubuit quo Ecclesia
+        Anglicana ad vesperas legit,
+    Raptus est ne malitia mutaret intellectum ejus;
+        Scilicet Id. Octobris anno S. 1631.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+EPITAPH FOR WILLIAM HARRIS.
+
+    Stay thee a short space here, good passer-by,
+                            Upon thy way;
+    Wherein a little while thou too must lie,
+                            Haste as thou may.
+    Certes thou knowest that thy life-long quest
+    Leads hither--to the long, long sleep and rest:
+    Grudge thee not, then, the tribute of a tear,
+    Whilst, ling'ring, to this stone thou drawest near.
+                  It will reward thy stay,
+                It will thy tears repay,
+                        To know
+                        Below
+                        lies
+                        William,
+                Of the family of Harris,
+                The most splendid name
+                Where all have fame.
+    Knowing that such an one did live,
+      And how he liv'd--great, noble, wise--
+    Know how all mortal hopes are fugitive;
+      Height gauging depth with 'Here he lies.'
+               { As infant     Essex     }
+          Whom { As youth      Cambridge } saw.
+    Ah, miserable and lamenting both, that they
+    See not his golden locks in years grow gray!
+                            He was
+                  A student of Christ College,
+                  A fellow of Pembroke Hall:
+                          To have him
+    The two Colleges did strive
+                    In rivalry of love:
+    But the great God put in His negative,
+                    Calling him Above,
+                To gain ampler knowledge
+                In the Heavenly College,
+    Of which he was on earth a student consecrate;
+    So, when Death summon'd him, he went elate.
+                So wise his wit,
+                By genius lit,
+                In himself alone
+                Many in one,
+            You had a College, where
+            Graces and Muses fair
+            With Religion, you might see
+            Twin'd hand in hand in amity.
+
+          { Eloquence as an   Orator      }
+          { Poetry as a       Poet        }
+    Whom  { Each as a         Philosopher } owned:
+          { All as a          Christian   }
+
+          { By faith the      world       }
+          { By hope           Heaven      }
+      Who { By love his       fellow-men  } conquered;
+          { By himself        himself     }
+
+                      Of whom
+    The ripen'd mind under a youthful face;
+    Severest virtue under courtliest grace;
+    Few years his, yet mellow'd as in age;
+    A modesty that did all hearts engage:
+    These self-reveal'd and self-revealing,
+    That all his life seem'd but a fine concealing.
+
+      Yea, ev'n in his death 'twas so;
+      For being thus at length laid low,
+      He chose no boastful tomb to tell
+      How good the life that in him fell:
+        By so much greater is the guest,
+        Smaller the mound where he doth rest:
+        Yea, in his death there was diminution:
+      Great was the guest, but see how small the stone.
+      On that very day he died in which the
+      Church of England reads its even-song:
+      He was snatch'd away, lest the wickedness
+    of the times should contaminate his understanding,
+                viz. 15th October A.S. 1631.[135]
+
+
+IN EUNDEM SCAZON.[136]
+
+    Huc, hospes, oculos flecte, sed lacrimis caecos,
+    Legit optime haec, quem legere non sinit fletus.
+    Ars nuper et natura, forma, virtusque
+    Aemulatione fervidae, paciscuntur
+    Probare uno juvene quid queant omnes,
+    Fuere tantae terra nuper fuit liti,
+    Ergo huc ab ipso Judicem manent coelo.
+
+
+TRANSLATION.
+
+    Stranger, bend here thine eyes, but dim with tears;
+    Whom weeping blinds, best reader here appears.
+    Art, Nature, Beauty, Virtue, all agree,
+    Contending late with a warm rivalry,
+    To show what in one youth all join'd would be.
+    So great the strife they caus'd on earth of late,
+    That here from heaven itself the Judge they wait.  R. WI.
+
+
+IN PICTURAM REVERENDISSIMI EPISCOPI
+
+D. ANDREWS.[137]
+
+    Haec charta monstrat, fama quem monstrat magis,
+    Sed et ipsa necdum fama quem monstrat satis;
+    Ille, ille totam solus implevit tubam,
+    Tot ora solus domuit, et famam quoque
+    Fecit modestam: mentis igneae pater
+    Agilique radio lucis aeternae vigil,
+    Per alta rerum pondera indomito vagus
+    Cucurrit animo, quippe naturam ferox
+    Exhausit ipsam mille foetus artibus,
+    Et mille linguis ipse se in gentes procul
+    Variavit omnes, fuitque toti simul
+    Cognatus orbi, sic sacrum et solidum jubar
+    Saturumque coelo pectus ad patrios libens
+    Porrexit ignes: hac eum, lector, vides
+    Hac, ecce, charta o utinam et audires quoque.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARIAL INDEX.
+
+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. G.
+
+
+A.
+
+Acidalian, ii. 22.
+
+Adult'rous, ii. 144.
+
+Alas, i. 181.
+
+All-Hallow, ii. 59.
+
+All-mischiefe, ii. 59.
+
+Alps, ii. 32.
+
+Ambush, i. 90.
+
+Apricockes, i. 269.
+
+Archer [badly misprinted 'anchor'], i. 176.
+
+Assyrian, ii. 30.
+
+
+B.
+
+Baal-zebub, i. 133.
+
+Bilbilician, ii. 26.
+
+Black-fac'd, ii. 41.
+
+Blossome, i. 28, 207.
+
+Bottles, i. 15.
+
+Brag, ii. 35.
+
+Breakfast, i. 15.
+
+Brisk, i. 15.
+
+Bud, i. 93.
+
+Bulla, ii. 245, 251.
+
+Buried, ii. 72.
+
+
+C.
+
+Cadence, i. 17.
+
+Calls 't, i. 16.
+
+Canary scribblers, i. xlviii.
+
+Case, i. 15.
+
+Cast, ii. 184.
+
+Cast away, ii. 43.
+
+Ceaze, i. 214.
+
+Chaplaine [of Virgin], i. xv.
+
+Cherrimock, i. 267.
+
+Child, ii. 28-9.
+
+Clouds [mortal], i. 90.
+
+Crawles, i. 14.
+
+Cruzzle, i. 15.
+
+
+D.
+
+Deaw, i. 15.
+
+Deliquium, i. 89.
+
+Devil, speaking and dumbe, ii. 140.
+
+Divident, i. 24.
+
+Doome, i. xvi.
+
+
+E.
+
+Ease, i. 15.
+
+Epigram, sacred, ii. 13.
+
+
+F.
+
+Faithful, i. 16.
+
+Fides, ii. 101.
+
+Flight, i. 258.
+
+Fly, i. 175.
+
+Food, ii. 41.
+
+Forlorne, ii. 41.
+
+Forswearing, i. 133.
+
+Fragrant, i. 157.
+
+Fries, i. 118.
+
+Frighted, ii. 144.
+
+Froward, ii. 137.
+
+Full-fac't, ii. 53.
+
+
+G.
+
+Gaie, ii. 43.
+
+Gloomy, ii. 41.
+
+Gold, i. 16.
+
+Golden, ii. 45.
+
+Groves, i. 93.
+
+
+H.
+
+Heaven-burthen'd, ii. 36.
+
+Horn [guilded], i. 89.
+
+Husband-showrs, i. 74.
+
+
+I.
+
+Illustrious, i. 239.
+
+Indifferent, i. 89.
+
+Ite, i. 169.
+
+
+K.
+
+Kist, i. 89.
+
+
+L.
+
+Laces, i. 78.
+
+Large-look't, i. 233.
+
+Least and last, i. 89.
+
+Legible, i. 89.
+
+Lightness, ii. 46.
+
+Lin'age, i. 119.
+
+Looke up, looke downe, ii. 69.
+
+
+M.
+
+May balsame, i. 15.
+
+Med'cinable, i. 15.
+
+Mint, i. 16.
+
+
+N.
+
+Negotiate, i. 90.
+
+Nest, i. 78.
+
+Nightening, i. 43.
+
+Nuzzeld, i. 15.
+
+
+O.
+
+Oblique, i. 90.
+
+Officious, i. 75.
+
+One-mouth'd, ii. 46.
+
+One, owne, i. 24.
+
+
+P.
+
+Paire, i. 17.
+
+Paradise, bird of, i. xv.
+
+Paramours, i. 78.
+
+Pearle-tipt, ii. 79.
+
+Pharian, i. 54.
+
+Phosporos, i. 118.
+
+Points, i. 75.
+
+Posts, i. 123.
+
+Precocious, ii. 12.
+
+Price=prize, i. 90.
+
+Prouoke, i. 16.
+
+Purple, ii. 164.
+
+Pyx, ii. 27.
+
+
+R.
+
+Rampart, i. 253.
+
+Rape, ii. 144.
+
+Rub, i. 68.
+
+
+S.
+
+Sages [sue], i. 92-3.
+
+Sanite, i. 13.
+
+Score, ii. 123.
+
+Seized, i. xlv.
+
+Send, ii. 35.
+
+Seven shares and a half, i. xlvi.
+
+Shadow ['brighter'], i. 91.
+
+Shipwrack, ii. 49.
+
+Silver-forded, footed, i. 14.
+
+Silver-tipt, ii. 144.
+
+Simpering, i. 17.
+
+Sixpenny soule, suburb sinner, i. xlvii.
+
+Sluttish, i. 18.
+
+Staine, ii. 99.
+
+Steely, i. 227.
+
+Stooped, i. 240.
+
+Strings, i. 140.
+
+Subtracts, ii. 12.
+
+Sugar, i. 179.
+
+Sydnaean, i. 256.
+
+
+T.
+
+Then=than, i. 24, _et frequenter_.
+
+Thinne, i. 177.
+
+Threasure, i. 9.
+
+Tree=cross, i. 24, 46.
+
+Trims't, ii. 123.
+
+Twin'd, i. 242.
+
+
+U.
+
+Uncontrouled, i. 242.
+
+Unpearcht, i. 68.
+
+Unwounded, ii. 49.
+
+
+V.
+
+Veronian, ii. 25.
+
+Violls, i. 5. 15.
+
+
+W.
+
+Washt, ii. 81.
+
+Wayd, i. 46.
+
+Wee, i. 14.
+
+White, i. 149; ii. 41, 165.
+
+Wine, i. 28.
+
+Worm, i. 119.
+
+Wrack, ii. 137.
+
+  END OF VOL. II.
+
+
+  Finis.
+
+
+  LONDON:
+
+  ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Crashaw's version is inadvertently inserted here instead of at p.
+201. G.
+
+[2] 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).
+
+[3] Not to be confounded with Handsworth in Staffordshire, or Hensworth
+near Doncaster.
+
+[4] 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.
+
+[5] Mr. Hunter cannot have gone about his inquiries at Handsworth with
+his usual persistence, for he says (as _supra_), '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.
+
+[6] 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.
+
+[7] His Will, as before.
+
+[8] 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.
+
+[9] Communicated to me by Professor Mayor, of Cambridge.
+
+[10] On Alvey, see Brook's Puritans, ii. 85-6.
+
+[11] 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 _of her husband's elder sonne_. 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.'
+
+[12] 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:
+
+    'Her time was short, the longer is her rest;
+    God takes them soonest whom He loveth best;
+    For he that's borne to-day and dyes to-morrow
+    Looseth some dayes of ioy, but yeares of sorrow.'
+
+A fragment of it is in the Dr. Farmer Chetham MS. (as edited by us).
+
+[13] 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.
+
+[14] 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.
+
+[15] 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.'
+
+[16] 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 Reformatae, quam
+Filius ejus Ric. Crashaw, injuriis vexatus, pressus inopia, Patria
+extorris, et complexu Matris Ecclesiae avulsus, abjuravit.'
+
+[17] The passage occurs in his Sermon before 'Lord Lawarre' on setting
+out for Virginia (see its title-page _ante_). 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,' Sec, 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, _and that God
+accounts it abomination for a man to put on woman's apparel_, 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.
+
+[18] 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.
+
+[19] 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.
+
+[20] '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 MS.
+
+[21] 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.
+
+[22] 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.
+
+[23] 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.e._ 20 Oct. 1627] titulum obtinet eodem anno. An. 1632
+Praedicator Academiae. An. 1634, Thesaurarius Junior et S. Theologiae
+Baccalaureus. Thesaurarius Senior an. 1635, et Attornatus Collegii cum
+Mro Vaughan in negotiis collegium quocunque modo spectantibus.'
+
+[24] 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 Plumtrae Scholae publicae de
+Brentwood Archididasculo, admissus Mar. 2, 1623, aetatis 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. Optimae spei
+juvenis.' He may have died of the plague (cf. Cooper's 'Annals of
+Cambridge,' iii. 243). (From Mr. Wright, as before.)
+
+[25] 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.
+
+[26] The whole Sec,, pp. 34-37, is full of anecdote and of rare interest,
+and sorrowfully confirmatory of Crashaw's words.
+
+[27] I find I cannot spare room for Cowley's own separate poem on Hope.
+It is in all the editions of his Poems.
+
+[28] 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, _s.n._). Buckingham's mother was
+a fervent Catholic, and here his 'sister,' _i.e._ 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 _supra_).
+
+[29] 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.'
+
+[30] 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: _e.g._ '_Dread Sweet_' (l. 236), and the
+superb 'Something a _brighter shadow_, 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:
+
+    'Awake, my soul, and come away!
+          Put on thy best array;
+          Least if thou longer stay,
+    Thou lose some minitts of so blest a day.
+          Goe run,
+    And bid good-morrow to the sun;
+    Welcome his safe return
+          To Capricorn;
+    And that great Morne
+    Wherein a God was borne,
+    Whose story none can tell,
+    But He whose every word's a miracle.'
+
+  (Our ed. of Bp. Taylor's Poems, pp. 22-3.)
+
+_En passant_, 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.
+
+[31] Cf. vol. i. p. 143.
+
+[32] Like Macaulay in his History of England (1st edition), Dr.
+Macdonald by an oversight speaks of Crashaw as 'expelled from _Oxford_,'
+instead of Cambridge (cf. our vol. i. p. 32).
+
+[33] The Letter of Pope to Mr. Henry Cromwell is in all the editions of
+his Correspondence. Willmott (as before) also gives it _in extenso_. 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.
+
+[34] He also quotes, as complete in themselves and 'best alone,' these
+two lines from No. LI.:
+
+    'This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given;
+    Twas once _look up_, 'tis now look down to heaven.'
+
+Dr. Robert Wilde in his Epitaph upon E.T. has the same idea, and puts it
+quaintly:
+
+    'Reader, didst thou but know what sacred dust
+    Thou tread'st upon, thou'dst judge thyself unjust
+    Shouldst thou neglect a shower of tears to pay,
+    To wash the sin of thy own feet away.
+    That actor in the play, who, looking down
+    When he should cry 'O heaven!' was thought a clown
+    And guilty of a solecism, might have
+    Applause for such an action o'er this grave.
+    Here lies a piece of Heaven; and Heaven one day
+    Will send the best in heaven to fetch't away.'
+
+  (Hunt's edition, p. 30.)
+
+[35] 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:
+
+    La nymphe de ces eaux apercut Jesus-Christ,
+    Et son pudique front de rougeur se couvrit.'
+
+    The nymph of these waters perceived Jesus Christ,
+    And her modest brow was dyed with shame.
+
+(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
+
+    'Vidit et erubuit nympha pudica Deum.'
+
+'Lympha' is inferior, and a (mis)reading for 'nympha.'
+
+[36] From _Prolusiones_ of Strada.
+
+[37] 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.
+
+[38] 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.
+
+    'They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch.'
+
+(N. and Q. 2d S. v. 449-52.)
+
+[39] 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.'
+
+[40] See our Essay for notice of Lany. G.
+
+[41] See our Essay in the present volume for notices of Lany. G.
+
+[42] Perhaps a virgin-priestess being dedicated is intended. G.
+
+[43] Balaami asinus. CR.
+
+[44] By a singular misprint Barksdale thus reads:
+
+    'The thief which bless'd upon the Cross with Me,' &c. G.
+
+[45] Barksdale thus renders the first couplet:
+
+    'Magdalen! thou prevent'st the morning light; =anticipatest
+    But thy Sun was already in thy sight.'                G.
+
+[46] Phil. i. 23, {ten epithymian echon eis to analysai}.
+
+[47] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'All things subside by their own weight: I think
+    Thy lightness only, Peter, makes thee sink.'
+
+[48] Christi scilicet. C. [The reference is to a runaway slave, whose
+punishment would be crucifixion. G.]
+
+[49] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'After so many miracles done well,
+    He that believes not is a miracle.'
+
+[50] Query: Is there a punning-play on Judas' 'All Hail' (_i.e._ All
+Hallow) before the Betrayal? G.
+
+[51] Cf. Crashaw's own hitherto unpublished poem, amplifying the
+epigram, in 'Airelles,' vol. i. pp. 185-6. G.
+
+[52] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Thou receiv'st and receiv'st not Christ; for He
+    Comes not into thy house, but into thee.'
+
+[53] Barksdale, as before, translates the last couplet thus:
+
+    'Enough! I have seen, have seen my Saviour:
+    Beside Thee, Christ, I would see nothing more.'
+
+[54] Joan. vii. 46.
+
+[55] Cf. our vol. i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[56] See vol. i. pp. 47-8, for Crashaw's own poem enlarging the
+epigram.  G.
+
+[57] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'That Saul was blind, I will not say:
+    Sure Saul was _captus lumine_.'
+
+[58] Ver. 24. Non enim mortua est puella, sed dormit. CR.
+
+[59] For Crashaw's own full rendering of this epigram, see our vol. i.
+pp. 48-9. G.
+
+[60] Barksdale thus renders one couplet:
+
+    'See, O my guests, a Deity is here:
+    The chast nymph saw a God, and blusht for fear.'
+
+For Dryden's and others, see our Essay in this volume. G.
+
+[61] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'To see Christ was first in my desire:
+    Next, having seen Thee, forthwith to expire.'
+
+[62] Barksdale, as before, inserts an anonymous epigram on the same
+subject as _supra_, being the only one not by Crashaw in the volume. It
+is as follows: '40. Mulier Canaanitis. Matt. 15. _Femina tam fortis,
+&c._
+
+    'O woman, how great is that faith of thine!
+    _Fides_ more than a grammar's feminine.'
+
+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: _Hic mulier_ ere long will be good Latin'
+(pp. 5, 6). G.
+
+[63] For Crashaw's own rendering of this epigram or poem, see our vol.
+i. pp. 50-1. G.
+
+[64] Cf. St. Matt. iv. 3. G.
+
+[65] Joan. xix. 41. {en ho oudepo oudeis etethe} CR.
+
+[66] Ver. 2. {seismos egeneto megas.} CR.
+
+[67] Ver. 4. {eseisthesan hoi terountes, kai egenonto hosei nekroi.} CR.
+
+[68] Barksdale, as before, renders the closing couplet thus:
+
+    'Is He the Christ? And the inquiry is
+    Of Himself? Why, the dumb can answer this.'
+
+[69] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[70]
+
+    Or--To the Jews it is not fire,
+        Yet the name best tells Heav'n's ire.    G.
+
+[71] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the last couplet:
+
+    'Most worthy nest this for the Bird above;
+    Most worthy of this nest is th' holy Dove.' G.
+
+[72] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[73] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'These loaves of Christ are well bestow'd: if fed
+    With these, they hunger after living bread.' G.
+
+[74] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'By your opposing force, Greeks, what is meant?
+    That you have no convincing argument.' G.
+
+[75] Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.
+
+[76] Barksdale, as before, renders the opening couplet. G.
+
+[77] = reckoning or debt to be paid. G.
+
+[78] By an oversight Willmott renders _ora_ 'regions' instead of
+'eyes.'  G.
+
+[79] Barksdale thus renders the second couplet:
+
+    'This house a stable! No: Thy blessed birth,
+    Jesus, converts it to a heaven on earth.'      G.
+
+[80] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'John is Christ's flame; Domitian, in thine ire,
+    Canst thou e'er hope with oil to extinguish fire?'    G.
+
+[81] Barksdale thus renders the latter couplet:
+
+    'Do, Dragon, do, thy snakes together call,
+    That by Christ's virtue they may perish all.'      G.
+
+[82] Barksdale, as before, thus renders the closing couplet:
+
+    'Shine forth, my Sun: soon as Thy beams are felt,
+    Thy gracious healing beams, my snow will melt.'      G.
+
+[83] Ver. 31. Sustulerunt lapides. CR.
+
+[84] ... Et continuo exivit sanguis et aqua. CR.
+
+[85] Act. i. Nubes susceptum eum abstulit. CR.
+
+[86] Crashaw must have stopped short in his Greek version of the present
+and succeeding epigram. G.
+
+[87] Rev. i. 16. CR.
+
+[88] Is the allusion to Peter's following 'afar off,' and after-denial
+of the Lord? G.
+
+[89] The allusion in l. 5 is to wrestlers anointing themselves to
+prevent their adversaries grasping them. R. WI.
+
+[90] 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.
+
+[91] This was overlooked in its proper place as Crashaw's own rendering
+of Epigram VI. p. 39. G.
+
+[92] LVI. and LVII. from Tanner MSS., as before. G.
+
+[93] Ecclesia. CR.
+
+[94] Cf. Wordsworth's 'A faculty for storms' ('Happy Warrior'). G.
+
+[95] MS. 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 MS. G.
+
+[96] I have ventured to supply a connecting line in place of the
+pentameter here dropt out; which might have been something like this:
+
+    'Inque brevi vita splendida facta micent.' R. WI.
+
+[97] From 'The Recommendation' illustration in 'Carmen D. nostro'
+(Paris, 1652). See vol. i. in 4to, p. 43. G.
+
+[98] See Illustration (in 4to) by Mrs. Blackburn to ll. 13-14 as
+vignette in Essay. G.
+
+[99] Query, in the heading (Latin), 'In Apolline_m_'? but 'Apolline_a_'
+is in all the texts. G.
+
+[100] 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.
+
+[101] In agro Sudovolgorum.
+
+[102] Nomen Elda (_Cancrorum idiomate_) [backwards].
+
+[103] Pretium annuum haud invidendum, XX_s._
+
+[104] Patibulo, quod tribus constat lignis, arrectariis binis, et trabe
+transversa.
+
+[105] Quattuor, quia equus quadrupes videbatur in eam sententiam quasi
+pedibus ire.
+
+[106] Vulgo acquietantia.
+
+[107] Organum est librite hydrobapticum ad omnium ripas situm, linguae
+fervore refrigerando.
+
+[108] The Common Pleas in Westminster Hall.
+
+[109] A writ.
+
+[110] The return of the writ [the morrow of All Souls].
+
+[111] The plaintiff.
+
+[112] 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!
+
+[113] It is not easy to bring-out the play on _terga dabit_--'terga
+dare' being equivalent to 'fugere'--and yet indicative of the boy's
+punishment on the back of the whipping-horse.
+
+[114] Alluding to Pegasus, and the fountain caused by stroke of hoof.
+
+[115] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i., and our Essay in the present
+Volume, for notices of Brooke. G.
+
+[116] 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.
+
+[117] '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, _John Mansel_, Doctor of Divinitie, and a generall schollare
+in all good literature." (Weever, _Fun. Mon._ 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
+(MS. 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.
+
+[118] See notice of Heath in note to the translation. G.
+
+[119] '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 '_Lord_ 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.
+
+[120] 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.
+
+[121] The following is a note of Charles I.'s family:
+
+Charles James, born May 13, 1628; died same day.
+
+Charles, born May 29, 1630; afterwards Charles II.
+
+Mary, born November 4, 1631; afterwards mother of William III.
+
+James, born October 14, 1633; afterwards James II., probably the unborn
+child of this poem.
+
+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,
+_s.n._).
+
+Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; died December 8, 1640.
+
+Henry, born July 8, 1640; afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of
+Cambridge.
+
+Henrietta-Anne, born June 16, 1644. G.
+
+[122] 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.
+
+[123] See note to preceding poem. From Voces Votivae &c. (see Preface to
+this volume). G.
+
+[124] From 'Delights of the Muses,' 1648, pp. 47-8; not in Turnbull. G.
+
+[125] Turnbull gives simply as the heading 'Natales Principis Mariae.'
+The date is Nov. 4, 1631. This Princess was born Nov. 4, 1631. G.
+
+[126] From Tanner MS., as before; hitherto unprinted. See note to
+preceding poem. G.
+
+[127] 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.
+
+[128] On 'Peterhouse' see our Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and Essay
+in the present volume. G.
+
+[129] See Memorial-Introd. vol. i., and Essay in the present vol. as
+below. G.
+
+[130] Apparently the churches in the gift of the College. W.
+
+[131] 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.
+
+[132] See Memorial-Introduction, vol. i. and our Essay, for notices of
+Brooke; also present volume for other poems, &c. addressed to him. G.
+
+[133] 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 _ante_. G.
+
+[134] 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.
+
+[135] 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.
+
+[136] From 'Delights of the Muses,' after 'Upon the Death of Mr. Herrys'
+(of vol. i. pp. 220-1). Not given by Turnbull. G.
+
+[137] For Crashaw's own translation of this see vol. i. p. 217. G.
+
+
+
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