ANOTHER VERSION.
Christ, the mute lips Thou bidst to speak; and lo,
Straightway words flow:
Thou mute wouldst have the speaking lips; but they
Thee disobey.
If, then, a single finger Thou didst use
Mute tongues to loose,
Thy whole hand now we need; for old and young
Have ceaseless tongue. G.
XXI.
Sacerdos quidam descendens eadem via vidit, et praeteriit. Luc. x. 32.
Spectasne, ah, placidisque oculis mea vulnera tractas?
O dolor! ô nostris vulnera vulneribus!
Pax oris quam torva tui est! quam triste serenum!
Tranquillus miserum qui videt, ipse facit.
And a certaine priest comming that way looked on him, and passed by.
Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
Handling and turning them with an unwounded eye?
The calm that cools thine eye does shipwrack mine; for O,
Unmov'd to see one wretched is to make him so. Cr.
ANOTHER RENDERING.
Dost look upon my wounds, serene-faced Priest?
Thy placid eyes give wounds more deep and sore.
O, thy calm stare avert! pass on, at least:
They who see woe unmov'd cause it, and more. G.
ANOTHER VERSION.