Part 36 (1/2)
You see what splendour through the s.p.a.cious aisle, As if the Church were glorified, doth smile.
The ivory-wrought beams seem to the sight Engraven, while the carv'd roof looks curl'd and bright.
On bra.s.s hoops to the upmost vaults we tie The hovering lamps, which nod and tremble by The yielding cords; fresh oil doth still repair The waving flames, vex'd with the fleeting air.
14. [PAULINUS. VERSUS APUD EPIST. x.x.xII. 17.]
The pains of Saints and Saints' rewards are twins, The sad cross, and the crown which the cross wins.
Here Christ, the Prince both of the cross and crown, Amongst fresh groves and lilies fully blown Stands, a white Lamb bearing the purple cross: White shows His pureness, red His blood's dear loss.
To ease His sorrows the chaste turtle sings, And fans Him, sweating blood, with her bright wings; While from a s.h.i.+ning cloud the Father eyes His Son's sad conflict with His enemies, And on His blessed head lets gently down Eternal glory made into a crown.
About Him stand two flocks of diff'ring notes, One of white sheep, and one of speckled goats; The first possess His right hand, and the last Stand on His left; the spotted goats are cast All into thick, deep shades, while from His right The white sheep pa.s.s into a whiter light.
15. [PAULINUS.]
Those sacred days by tedious Time delay'd, While the slow years' bright line about is laid, I patiently expect, though much distrest By busy longing and a love-sick breast.
I wish they may outs.h.i.+ne all other days; Or, when they come, so recompense delays As to outlast the summer hours' bright length; Or that fam'd day, when stopp'd by divine strength The sun did tire the world with his long light, Doubling men's labours, and adjourning night.
As the bright sky with stars, the field with flow'rs, The years with diff'ring seasons, months and hours, G.o.d hath distinguished and mark'd, so He With sacred feasts did ease and beautify The working days: because that mixture may Make men--loth to be holy ev'ry day-- After long labours, with a freer will, Adore their Maker, and keep mindful still Of holiness, by keeping holy days: For otherwise they would dislike the ways Of piety as too severe. To cast Old customs quite off, and from sin to fast Is a great work. To run which way we will, On plains is easy, not so up a hill.
Hence 'tis our good G.o.d--Who would all men bring Under the covert of His saving wing-- Appointed at set times His solemn feasts, That by mean services men might at least Take hold of Christ as by the hem, and steal Help from His lowest skirts, their souls to heal.
For the first step to heaven is to live well All our life long, and each day to excel In holiness; but since that tares are found In the best corn, and thistles will confound And p.r.i.c.k my heart with vain cares, I will strive To weed them out on feast-days, and so thrive By handfuls, 'till I may full life obtain, And not be swallow'd of eternal pain.
16. [PAULINUS (?). CARM. APP. I.]
Come, my true consort in my joys and care!
Let this uncertain and still wasting share Of our frail life be giv'n to G.o.d. You see How the swift days drive hence incessantly, And the frail, drooping world--though still thought gay[69]-- In secret, slow consumption wears away.
All that we have pa.s.s from us, and once past Return no more; like clouds, they seem to last, And so delude loose, greedy minds. But where Are now those trim deceits? to what dark sphere Are all those false fires sunk, which once so s.h.i.+n'd, They captivated souls, and rul'd mankind?
He that with fifty ploughs his lands did sow, Will scarce be trusted for two oxen now; His rich, loud coach, known to each crowded street, Is sold, and he quite tir'd walks on his feet.
Merchants that--like the sun--their voyage made From East to West, and by wholesale did trade, Are now turn'd sculler-men, or sadly sweat In a poor fisher's boat, with line and net.
Kingdoms and cities to a period tend; Earth nothing hath, but what must have an end; Mankind by plagues, distempers, dearth and war, Tortures and prisons, die both near and far; Fury and hate rage in each living breast, Princes with princes, States with States contest; An universal discord mads each land, Peace is quite lost, the last times are at hand.
But were these days from the Last Day secure, So that the world might for more years endure, Yet we--like hirelings--should our term expect, And on our day of death each day reflect.
For what--Therasia--doth it us avail That s.p.a.cious streams shall flow and never fail, That aged forests hie to tire the winds, And flow'rs each Spring return and keep their kinds!
Those still remain: but all our fathers died, And we ourselves but for few days abide.
This short time then was not giv'n us in vain, To whom Time dies, in which we dying gain, But that in time eternal life should be Our care, and endless rest our industry.
And yet this task, which the rebellious deem Too harsh, who G.o.d's mild laws for chains esteem, Suits with the meek and harmless heart so right That 'tis all ease, all comfort and delight.
”To love our G.o.d with all our strength and will; To covet nothing; to devise no ill Against our neighbours; to procure or do Nothing to others, which we would not to Our very selves; not to revenge our wrong; To be content with little, not to long For wealth and greatness; to despise or jeer No man, and if we be despised, to bear; To feed the hungry; to hold fast our crown; To take from others naught; to give our own,”
--These are His precepts: and--alas!--in these What is so hard, but faith can do with ease?
He that the holy prophets doth believe, And on G.o.d's words relies, words that still live And cannot die; that in his heart hath writ His Saviour's death and triumph, and doth yet With constant care, admitting no neglect, His second, dreadful coming still expect: To such a liver earthy things are dead, With Heav'n alone, and hopes of Heav'n, he's fed, He is no va.s.sal unto worldly trash, Nor that black knowledge which pretends to wash, But doth defile: a knowledge, by which men With studied care lose Paradise again.