Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist Part 35

3. [PAULINUS. CARM. XI. 1-5; X. 189-92.]

Obdurate still and tongue-tied, you accuse --Though yours is ever vocal--my dull muse; You blame my lazy, lurking life, and add I scorn your love, a calumny most sad; Then tell me, that I fear my wife, and dart Harsh, cutting words against my dearest heart.

Leave, learned father, leave this bitter course, My studies are not turn'd unto the worse; I am not mad, nor idle, nor deny Your great deserts, and my debt, nor have I A wife like Tanaquil, as wildly you Object, but a Lucretia, chaste and true.

4. [PAULINUS. CARM. x.x.xI. 581-2, 585-90, 601-2, 607-12.]

This pledge of your joint love, to heaven now fled, With honey-combs and milk of life is fed.

Or with the Bethlem babes--whom Herod's rage Kill'd in their tender, happy, holy age-- Doth walk the groves of Paradise, and make Garlands, which those young martyrs from him take.

With these his eyes on the mild Lamb are fix'd, A virgin-child with virgin-infants mix'd.

Such is my Celsus too, who soon as given, Was taken back--on the eighth day--to heaven To whom at Alcala I sadly gave Amongst the martyrs' tombs a little grave.

He now with yours--gone both the blessed way-- Amongst the trees of life doth smile and play; And this one drop of our mix'd blood may be A light for my Therasia, and for me.

5. [AUSONIUS. EPIST. XXV. 50, 56-7, 60-2.]

Sweet Paulinus, and is thy nature turn'd?

Have I so long in vain thy absence mourn'd?

Wilt thou, my glory, and great Rome's delight, The Senate's prop, their oracle, and light, In Bilbilis and Calagurris dwell, Changing thy ivory-chair for a dark cell?

Wilt bury there thy purple, and contemn All the great honours of thy n.o.ble stem?

6. [PAULINUS. CARM. X. 110-331.]

Shall I believe you can make me return, Who pour your fruitless prayers when you mourn, Not to your Maker? Who can hear you cry, But to the fabled nymphs of Castaly?

You never shall by such false G.o.ds bring me Either to Rome, or to your company.

As for those former things you once did know, And which you still call mine, I freely now Confess, I am not he, whom you knew then; I have died since, and have been born again.

Nor dare I think my sage instructor can Believe it error, for redeemed man To serve his great Redeemer. I grieve not But glory so to err. Let the wise knot Of worldlings call me fool; I slight their noise, And hear my G.o.d approving of my choice.

Man is but gla.s.s, a building of no trust, A moving shade, and, without Christ, mere dust.

His choice in life concerns the chooser much: For when he dies, his good or ill--just such As here it was--goes with him hence, and stays Still by him, his strict judge in the last days.

These serious thoughts take up my soul, and I, While yet 'tis daylight, fix my busy eye Upon His sacred rules, life's precious sum Who in the twilight of the world shall come To judge the lofty looks, and show mankind The diff'rence 'twixt the ill and well inclin'd.

This second coming of the world's great King Makes my heart tremble, and doth timely bring A saving care into my watchful soul, Lest in that day all vitiated and foul I should be found--that day, Time's utmost line, When all shall perish but what is divine; When the great trumpet's mighty blast shall shake The earth's foundations, till the hard rocks quake And melt like piles of snow; when lightnings move Like hail, and the white thrones are set above: That day, when sent in glory by the Father, The Prince of Life His blest elect shall gather; Millions of angels round about Him flying, While all the kindreds of the Earth are crying; And He enthron'd upon the clouds shall give His last just sentence, who must die, who live.

This is the fear, this is the saving care That makes me leave false honours, and that share Which fell to me of this frail world, lest by A frequent use of present pleasures I Should quite forget the future, and let in Foul atheism, or some presumptuous sin.

Now by their loss I have secur'd my life, And bought my peace ev'n with the cause of strife.

I live to Him Who gave me life and breath, And without fear expect the hour of death.

If you like this, bid joy to my rich state, If not, leave me to Christ at any rate.

7. [PAULINUS.]

And is the bargain thought too dear, To give for heaven our frail subsistence here?

To change our mortal with immortal homes, And purchase the bright stars with darksome stones?

Behold! my G.o.d--a rate great as His breath!-- On the sad cross bought me with bitter death, Did put on flesh, and suffer'd for our good, For ours--vile slaves!--the loss of His dear blood.

8. [EPITAPH ON MARCELLINA.]

Life, Marcellina, leaving thy fair frame, Thou didst contemn those tombs of costly fame, Built by thy Roman ancestors, and liest At Milan, where great Ambrose sleeps in Christ.

Hope, the dead's life, and faith, which never faints, Made thee rest here, that thou mayst rise with saints.

9. [PAULINUS. VERSUS APUD EPIST. x.x.xII. 3.]

You that to wash your flesh and souls draw near, Ponder these two examples set you here: Great Martin shows the holy life, and white, Paulinus to repentance doth invite; Martin's pure, harmless life, took heaven by force, Paulinus took it by tears and remorse; Martin leads through victorious palms and flow'rs, Paulinus leads you through the pools and show'rs; You that are sinners, on Paulinus look, You that are saints, great Martin is your book; The first example bright and holy is, The last, though sad and weeping, leads to bliss

10. [PAULINUS. VERSUS APUD EPIST. x.x.xII. 5.]

Here the great well-spring of wash'd souls with beams Of living light quickens the lively streams; The Dove descends, and stirs them with her wings, So weds these waters to the upper springs.

They straight conceive; a new birth doth proceed From the bright streams by an immortal seed.

O the rare love of G.o.d! sinners wash'd here Come forth pure saints, all justified and clear.

So blest in death and life, man dies to sins, And lives to G.o.d: sin dies, and life begins To be reviv'd: old Adam falls away And the new lives, born for eternal sway.

11. [PAULINUS. VERSUS APUD EPIST. x.x.xII. 12.]

Through pleasant green fields enter you the way To bliss; and well through shades and blossoms may The walks lead here, from whence directly lies The good man's path to sacred Paradise.

12. [PAULINUS. VERSUS APUD EPIST. x.x.xII. 14.]

The painful cross with flowers and palms is crown'd, Which prove, it springs; though all in blood 'tis drown'd; The doves above it show with one consent, Heaven opens only to the innocent.

13. [PAULINUS. CARM. XXVII. 387-92.]