The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw Volume II Part 30

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 l.u.s.trous 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 cli circ.u.m tonuit fragor: arma minasque Turbida c.u.m flammis mista ferebat hiems.

Exclamat Judaeus atrox: Venit ecce nefandis, Ecce venit meriti fulminis ira memor.

Verum ubi composito sedit fax blandior astro, Flammaque non laesas lambit amica comas; Judaeis, fulmen quia falsum apparuit esse, Hoc ipso verum nomine fulmen erat.

???a??? ??t?p?se ????? p??e?? ?a? ?pe????

??e t????? ??e?? s?? f???? se?da???.

??e? ???da???? ?a?? st??e??? t? ?????a ?f?ase t?? ????? t? p??p?? ???a????.

???? ?a???a?? ?te ?e?ta? ?s???? ?st??

F???a, ?a? ???t??? ?e??e f???? p???????, ???ae?. ?t? ??? ?e????? ??? ?e? ??????, ??? ?te?? d??t? t?de ?e?a???? ???.

_The descent of the Holy Spirit._

Booms the thunder through the sky, Flash the lightnings, threats the storm; Cries the Jew with vengeful eye: See SIN doom'd in fitting form!

But, lo, the lightning, paled to light Mild and calm as ev'ning's star, Binds their brows with nimbus bright, Playing softly i' their hair.

To the Jews it is not lightning, Yet the more the name's enlightening.[70] G.

CXXII.

_Sic dilexit mundum Deus, ut Filium morti traderet._ Joan. iii. 16.

Ah nimis est, illum nostrae vel tradere vitae: Guttula quod faceret, cur facit ocea.n.u.s?

Unde et luxuriare potest, habet hinc mea vita: Ample et magnifice mors habet unde mori.

_G.o.d 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, n.o.bis 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 wors.h.i.+pped by the Lystrians as Mercury._

What Tagus, what Pactolus here is rolled?

'Tis not man's voice: a G.o.d, a G.o.d 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 G.o.d e'en by thy tongue a.s.suredly art known.

The praise of eloquence for him was meet Who could persuade the lame to use swift feet. R. WI.

CXXV.

_In S. Columbam ad Christi caput sedentem._

Cui sacra siderea volueris suspenditur ala?

Hunc nive plus niveum cui dabit illa pedem?

Christe, tuo capiti totis se destinat auris, Qua ludit densae blandior umbra comae.

Illic arcano quid non tibi murmure narrat, Murmure mortales non imitante sonos?

Sola avis haec nido hoc non est indigna cubare: Solus nidus hic est hac bene dignus ave.[71]

?? ta??e???? ??e? pt????' ?ste??essa? ??et??; ? t??? ?e??a f??e? t?? p?da ???????; ???st?, te? ?efa?? p?sa?? pte???ess?? ?pe??e??

?? s??? t?? das???? pa??e ??a p???????.

???? s?? ????t? ??????sat? ?e??' ????e?e?; ????t', ??? ???? ?sa ?? ??d?????.

????a ?? ?d' ????? ?a???? ?st' ???a ta?t???

???a d' ??????? ???a ?? ? ?a???.

_To the sacred Dove alighting on the head of Christ._

On whom doth this blest Bird its wings outspread?

Where will it suffer its white feet to rest?

O Jesus, hovering o'er Thy hallow'd head, Within Thy hair's sweet shade it seeks a nest.

There does it breathe a mystic song to Thee, A melody unlike all earthly sound: That Bird alone to this pure nest may flee; This nest alone worthy the Bird is found. W.

CXXVI.