The Hymns of Prudentius Part 6

Felices animae prata per herbida concentu parili suave sonantibus hymnorum modulis dulce canunt melos, calcant et pedibus lilia candidis.

Sunt et spiritibus saepe nocentibus 125 paenarum celebres sub Styge feriae illa nocte, sacer qua rediit Deus stagnis ad superos ex Acheronticis.

Non sicut tenebras de face fulgida surgens oceano Lucifer inbuit, 130 sed terris Domini de cruce tristibus maior sole novum rest.i.tuens diem.

Marcent suppliciis tartara mitibus, exultatque sui carceris otio functorum populus liber ab ignibus, 135 nec fervent solito flumina sulphure.

Nos festis trahimus per pia gaudia noctem conciliis votaque prospera certatim vigili congerimus prece extructoque agimus liba sacrario. 140

Pendent mobilibus lumina funibus, quae suffixa micant per laquearia, et de languidulis fota natatibus lucem perspicuo flamma iacit vitro.

Credas stelligeram desuper aream 145 ornatam geminis stare trionibus, et qua bosporeum temo regit iugum, pa.s.sim purpureos spargier hesperos.

O res digna, Pater, quam tibi roscidae noctis principio grex tuus offerat, 150 lucem, qua tribuis nil pretiosius, lucem, qua reliqua praemia cernimus.

Tu lux vera oculis, lux quoque sensibus, intus tu speculum, tu speculum foris, lumen, quod famulans offero, suscipe, 155 tinctum pacifici chrismatis unguine.

Per Christum genitum, summe Pater, tuum, in quo visibilis stat tibi gloria, qui noster Dominus, qui tuus unicus spirat de patrio corde parac.l.i.tum. 160

Per quem splendor, honos, laus, sapientia, maiestas, bonitas, et pietas tua regnum continuat numine triplici texens perpetuis secula seculis.

V. HYMN FOR THE LIGHTING OF THE LAMPS

Blest Lord, Creator of the glowing light, At Whose behest the hours successive move, The sun has set: black darkness broods above: Christ! light Thy faithful through the coming night.

Thy courts are lit with stars unnumbered, And in the cloudless vault the pale moon rides; Yet Thou dost bid us seek the fire that hides Till swift we strike it from its flinty bed.

So man may learn that in Christ's body came The hidden hope of light to mortals given: He is the Rock--'tis His own word--that riven Sends forth to all our race the eternal flame.

From lamps that brim with rich and fragrant oil, Or torches dry this heaven-sent fire we feed; Or make us rushlights from the flowering reed And wax, whereon the bees have spent their toil.

Bright glows the light, whether the resin thick Of pine-brand flares, or waxen tapers burn With melting radiance, or the hollow urn Yields its stored sweetness to the thirsty wick.

Beneath the might of fire, in slow decay The scented tears of glowing nectar fall; Lower and lower droops the candle tall And ever dwindling weeps itself away.

So by Thy gifts, great Father, hearth and hall Are all ablaze with points of twinkling light That vie with daylight spent; and vanquished Night Rends, as she flies away, her sable pall.

Who knoweth not that from high Heaven first came Our light, from G.o.d Himself the rushing fire?

For Moses erst, amid the p.r.i.c.kly brier, Saw G.o.d made manifest in lambent flame.

Ah, happy he! deemed worthy face to face To see heaven's Lord within that sacred brake; Bidden the sandals from his feet to take, Nor with his shoon defile that holy place.

The mighty children of the chosen name, Saved by the merits of their sires, and free After long years of savage tyranny, Through the drear desert followed still that flame.

Striking their camp beneath the silent night Where'er they went, to lead their darkling way, The cloud of glory lent its guiding ray And shone more splendid than the noonday light.

But, mad with jealous fury, Egypt's king Calls his great host to battle for their lord: Swiftly the cohorts gather at his word, And down the mail-clad lines the clarions ring.

Girding their trusty swords the warriors go To fill the ranks; hoa.r.s.e bugles rend the air; These seize their ma.s.sy javelins, these prepare The death-winged arrow and the Cretan bow.

The footmen throng in close battalions pressed; The chariots thunder; to the saddle spring The riders of the Nile, as forth they fling Egypt's proud banner with the serpent crest.

And now, forgetful of the bondage past, Thy children, tortured by the desert heat, Drag to the Red Sea's brink their weary feet, And on its sandy margin rest at last.

See! with their forsworn king the savage foe Draws nigh: the threatening squadrons nearer ride; But ever onward urged the intrepid guide And through the waves bade Israel fearless go.

Before that steadfast march the billows fall, Then raise on either hand their crystal ma.s.s, While through the sundered deep Thy people pa.s.s And ocean guards them with a liquid wall.

But, mad with baffled rage, the dusky horde Of Egypt, by their impious despot led, Athirst the hated Hebrews' blood to shed Pursued, all reckless of the o'er-arching flood.

Swift as the wind the royal squadrons ride, But swifter yet the crystal barriers break, The waves exultantly their bounds forsake And roll together in a roaring tide.

'Mid steeds and chariots and drifting mail The drowned lords of Egypt found a grave With all their swart retainers 'neath the wave; And in their haughty courts the mourners wail.

What tongue, O Christ, Thy glories can unfold?

Thine was the arm, outstretched in wrath, that made The stricken land of Pharaoh, sore afraid, Bow down before Thy minister of old.

Thy pathless deep did at the voice restrain Its surging billows, till with Thee for guide Thy host pa.s.sed scathless, and the refluent tide Swept down the wicked to the engulfing main.

At Thy command the desert, parched and dry, Breaks into laughing rills, and water clear Wells from the smitten rock Thy flock to cheer And quench their thirst beneath that brazen sky.

Then Marah's bitterness grew pa.s.sing sweet, Touched by the mystic tree; so by the grace Of Thine own Tree, O Christ, our sinful race Regains its lost hopes at Thy pierced feet.

Faster than icy hail the manna falls, Like snow down drifting from a wintry sky; The feast is set: they heap the tables high With that rich food from Thy celestial halls.

Fresh blow the breezes from the distant sh.o.r.e And bear a fluttering cloud that hides the light, Till the frail pinions, faltering in their flight, Sink in the wilderness to rise no more.

How great the love of G.o.d's own Son, that shed Such wondrous bounty on His chosen race!

And still to us He proffers in His grace The mystic Feast, wherewith our souls are fed.

Through the world's raging sea He bids us come, And 'twixt the sundered billows guides our path, Till, spent and wearied with the ocean's wrath, He calls His storm-tossed saints to Heaven and home.

There in His paradise red roses blow, With golden daffodils and lilies pale And gentle violets, and down the vale The murmuring rivulets for ever flow.

Sweet balsams, welling from the slender tree, And precious spices fill the fragrant air, And, hiding by the stream, that blossom rare Whose leaves the river hurries to the sea.

There the blest souls with one accord unite To hymn in dulcet song their Saviour's praise, And as the chanting quire their voices raise They tread with shining feet the lilies bright.

Yea, e'en the spirits of the lost, that dwell Where the black stream of sullen Acheron flows, Rest on that holy night when Christ arose, And for a while 'tis holiday in h.e.l.l.

No sun from ocean rising drives away Their darkness, with his flaming shafts far-hurled, But from the cross of Christ o'er that wan world There streams the radiance of a new-born day.

The sulphurous floods with lessened fury glow, The aching limbs find respite from their pain, While, in glad freedom from the galling chain, The tortured ghosts a short-lived solace know.

In holy gladness let this night be sped, As here we gather, Lord, to watch and pray; To Thee with one consent our vows we pay And on Thy altar set the sacred Bread.