Chapter 102
_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 tec.u.m, in natique tuique salutem?
Qui petis; ah nescis, credo, quod ales Amor.
Ille ut eat tec.u.m? quam se tua vota morantur!
Ille ut eat? tanto serius esset ibi.
Ne tardus veniat, Christus tec.u.m 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,
_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 c.u.m 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?