Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
'Twere little they should leave one light below:
Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky. R. Wi.
CLXXIX.
Caecus implorat Christum. Marc. x. 46-52.
Improba turba, tace. Mihi tam mea vota propinquant,
Et linguam de me vis tacuisse meam?
Tunc ego tunc taceam, mihi cum meus ille loquetur:
Si nescis, oculos vox habet ista meos.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
In te quae primo riserit ore, diem.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
Quae, nisi te videat, nox velit esse, diem.
O noctis miserere meae, miserere; per illam
In te quam fidei nox habet ipsa, diem.
Haec animi tam clara dies rogat illam oculorum:
Illam, oro, dederis; hanc mihi ne rapias.
Νύκτ' ἐλέησον ἐμὴν, ἐλέησον. ναί τοι ἐκεῖνο,
Χριστὲ, ἐμοῦ ἦμαρ, νὺξ ὅδ' ἐμεῖο ἔχει.
Ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἐκεῖνο, Θεὸς, δέεται τόδε γνώμης·
Μή μοι τοῦτ' αἴρῃς, δός μοι ἐκεῖνο φάος.[86]
The blind man implores Christ.
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 addresses?
Know, then, that voice of His my eyes possesses.
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which smiled on me in Thee with earliest ray:
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which if it sees Thee not, for night would pray:
Pity my night, Lord, pity; by that day
Which in faith's dimness fades not quite away.
My mind's clear day bids my eyes' day awake:
This grant, O Lord, nor the other from me take. R. Wi.
CLXXX.
Quis ex vobis si habeat centum oves, et perdiderit unam ex illis, &c. Luc. xv. 4.
O ut ego angelicis fiam bona gaudia turmis!
Me quoque solicito quaere per arva gradu.
Mille tibi tutis ludunt in montibus agni,
Quos potes haud dubia dicere voce tuos.
Unus ego erravi, quo me meus error agebat;
Unus ego fuerim gaudia plura tibi.
Gaudia non faciunt, quae nec fecere timorem;
Et plus quae donant ipsa peric'la placent.
Horum quos retines fuerit tibi latior usus:
De me quem recipis dulcior usus erit.