Όσοι βεβῶτες πόντιοι νεῶν ἔπι ἐν εὐρυνώτῳ χρήματα σπεύδουσ ̓ ἁλί, τούτοις πάρεστιν εἰσορᾶν τὸν Κύριον ὁποῖα θαύματ ̓ ἐν βυθοῖς ἐργάζεται. κείνου γὰρ ἐντέλλοντος εὐθὺς ὄρνυται τυφὼς ἀείρων οἶδμ ̓ ἁλὸς μετάρσιον. οἱ δ' οὖν ἐς αἰθέρ', ἄλλοτ ̓ ἐς πόντου βάθη χωροῦσ ̓ ἄνω τε καὶ κάτω φορούμενοι· καὶ πᾶς τις ἔνδον τήκεται λύπης ὕπο. βίᾳ γὰρ ἄλλοτ ̓ ἄλλοσ ̓, ὡς οἰνωμένοι, σκιρτῶσιν εἱλίσσουσι παράφορον πόδα, ἤδη παραλλάσσοντες ἔξεδροι φρενῶν. ὅταν δ ̓ ἀμηχανοῦντες εὔχωνται Θεῷ, ἐκρύεται σφᾶς τοῦ ταλαιπώρου πάθους. κοιμᾷ γὰρ οὖν ἄελλαν, ὥστ ̓ ἀκύμονα θάλασσαν εὕδειν· οἱ δ ̓ ὁρῶντες εἰδίαν χαίρουσ ̓ ὁ δ ̓ ὅρμον ὃν ποθοῦσιν εἰσάγει.
Ardua prima Via est.
Dixi saepe preces, egi ieiunia, vinxi
Mollia saetoso tegmine membra, Deus: Utqve animum turpi purgarem adspergine, saepe Est temptata mihi nox vigil, aegra fames. Dic, Pater, humanos semper miserate labores, Cur me sic fugiens sic tamen ipse seqvor? Corpora saetosum confirmat fortia tegmen, Hoc igitur circa pectus, ut ante, liga: Saepe fuere cibo superis ieiunia turbis ;
Christo in deliciis frigora noctis erant. Sed ne crede preces, ne tu ieiunia crede,
Ilicet ad superos qvae ferat, esse viam.
I hear thee speak of the better land,
Thou callest its children a happy band:
Mother, oh where is that radiant shore;
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the orange blows,
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle-boughs?—
Not there, not there, my child.
Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies;
Or midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds on their starry wings
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?-
Not there, not there, my child.
Is it far away in some region old,
Where the river wanders o'er sands of gold,
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand;
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?—
Not there, not there, my child.
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy;
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom;
For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child.
Arva beata Petamus Arva.
Narras de meliore, mater, ora;
Felices ibi credis esse coetus:
Dic o dic ubi sit; licetne terram
Fulgentem petere et carere fletu?
An qva flore citri renidet aestas,
Et musca saliunt flagrante myrti?-
Terram qvam cupis haud ibi est, puelle.-
An qva sub face laetiore fructus
Alatae properat tumere palmae,
Qva splendor maris insulis inerrat
Silvosis, zephyrosqve odorat arbor,
Stellatisqve avium caterva pennis
Rerum mille novos rapit colores ?—
Terram qvam cupis haud ibi est, puelle.-
An mundo procul abditur vetusto,
Qva flumen ruit aureis arenis,
Qva secreta vibrant per antra lucem
Gemmae multicolore fulgurantes
Scintilla, niveisqve margaritis
Albet curalium micantis actae ?--
Terram qvam cupis haud ibi est, puelle.
Nulli visa oculo, tenelle, nulla
Laetos succinuit modos in aure:
Numqvam mens ita liberam creavit
Luctuqve et lacrimis serenitatem.
Nam, qva nescit edax nocere tempus,
Trans nubes radiat nigras, sepulcri
Vernat trans hiemem beata tellus.
Dov'è, Signor, la tua grandezza antica,
E l'ammanto di luce, e l' aureo trono?
Dove il fulmin tremendo, il lampo, il tuono,
E l'atra nube che al tuo piè s' implica?
Parmi che turba rea m' insulti e dica:
Questi è il tuo Nume? e quel vagito è il suono Scotitor de la terra? e quelle sono
Le man' ch' arser Gomorra empia impudica?
Esci, gran Dio, da l' umil cuna, e in tempio
Cangiato il vil presepio, al primo onore
Torna del soglio, e sì favella a l'empio:
Vedrai, vedrai del giusto mio furore
La forza immensa a tuo gran danno e scempio, Tu che non sai quanto in me possa amore.
The Restitution of Man.
O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight,
Son of my bosom, Son who art alone.
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might,
All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all
As my eternal purpose hath decreed:
Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will;
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me
Freely vouchsafed; once more I will renew
His lapsed powers, though forfeit, and enthralled
By sin to foul exorbitant desires;
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand
On even ground against his mortal foe;
By me upheld, that he may know how frail
His fallen condition is, and to me owe
All his deliverance, and to none but me.
Nunc ubi maiestas? Ubi nunc, Deus, aurea sedes?
Circumfusa tibi taenia lucis ubi?
Fulgur ubi tonitruqve tuum fulmenqve tremendum,
Qvaeqve obducta tuos implicat umbra pedes?
Impia gens risu me provocat: Hoc tibi numen
Scilicet, et mundum vox qvatit ista suum?
Haene manus, qvibus ultricem iaculantibus ignem
Neqvitiae poenas foeda Gomorra dedit?
Qvo potes usqve pati? Templum praesepia fiant ;
Surge tuis cunis, maxime, surge, Deus:
Surge potens soliiqve tui reparatus honore
Protere terribili voce rebelle caput:
Qvi qvid amor valeat nescis meus, in tua damna
Qvid valeat disces vindicis ira Dei.
Sceleris Vestigia nostri irrita.
Ὦ Τέκνον, ἀμῆς καρδίας τὰ φίλτατα,
ἀγαπητὲ Τέκνον, ὃς μόνος πάντων ἔφυς
Σοφία Λόγος τε παντελής τ ̓ ἰσχὺς ἐμή,
προσῳδὰ μὲν πάντ ̓ εἶπας οἷς ἐφρόντισα
ξύμφωνα δ' οἷς ἔγνωκ ̓ ἀπ ̓ αἰώνων ἐπὶ
αἰῶνας άνθρωπος γὰρ οὐ πανώλεθρος
πέπτωκεν, ἢν δέ τις θέλῃ σωθήσεται
οὐ μὴν θέλων μὲν κεῖνος, ἀλλ ̓ ἐμοῦ χάριν
δωρουμένου σφιν. ἐξανορθώσω δ' ἔτι
κείνου μάλ ̓ αὖθις τὴν παλίρροπον φύσιν.
κεἰ νῦν πέπραται πᾶσα κἀπιθυμιῶν
κλύει περισσῶν, ἀνομίας ἡσσωμένη,
ἐμεῖς ἀρωγαῖς κεῖνος ἀντιστήσεται
ἤδη μάλ' αὖθις ἴσος ἴσῳ τῷ δυσμενεῖ
ἐμεῖς γ ̓ ἀρωγαῖς, ὡς ἂν ἐξειδῇ μαθὼν
εἰς ἣν μεθέστηκ οἰζύν, ὡς ἀμήχανος,
καμοί γ ̓ ὀφείλῃ παντελῆ τὰ ῥύσια.
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