The people of the earth wondered what made the sun so glorious, not knowing that he borrowed light from the utterance of a good man’s name.
A multitude of Rome’s children had gathered in S. Peter’s. The Pope was kneeling in the sanctuary; princes and merchants were kneeling together under the vast cupola, the poor were kneeling at the threshold; even a leper dared to kneel on the steps without, and was allowed the presence of his Lord. All souls were filled with longing, all hearts were striving for expression.
Then strains of music arose: O soul! cease your longing; O heart! cease your strife; now utterance is found.
Sadder grew the tones, till, like the dashing of waves, came the sigh: “Vainly I struggle to move onward. Have mercy, Father!” The lights flickered and died, a shadow passed over the worshippers, and the Tiber without stopped in its course to listen.
Sadder grew the tones, till the moan was heard: “Vainly I strive to escape these meshes. Have mercy, Father!” The shadow grew deeper, and a little bird without stopped in its flight to listen.
Still was the music sadder with the weight of the sob: “Vainly I flee from this loathsome burden. Have mercy, Father!” Vaster and darker grew the shadow, and the very breeze stopped in its course to listen.
And now the music mingled sigh and moan and sob in one vast despairing cry: “Vainly I struggle against this rock of doubt. Have mercy, Father! Vainly I strive to escape these meshes of sin. Have mercy, Father! Vainly I flee from this evil self. Have mercy, O Father! have mercy.” Darker and deeper and vaster grew the shadow, and all sin in those human hearts stopped in its triumph to listen.
All light was dead, all sound was dead. Was all hope dead? “No!” wept a thousand eyes. “No!” sobbed a thousand voices; for now high above the altar shone forth the promise of light in darkness, of help in tribulation—in sight of Pope and prince, in sight of rich and poor, and even in sight of the leper kneeling without, gleamed the starry figure of the cross.
“How was this Mass of Allegri so completely formed,” cry the three centuries that have passed since then, “that we have been able to add nothing to its perfection?”
The calm voice of nature answers: It is because his own love and mercy were universal; because he had learned that all creation needs the protecting watchfulness of the Maker; because he gave even the weakest creatures voice in his all embracing cry of Miserere.