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.