Hastes Nature to its second day of birth,

And a new life in Thee crowns a new earth.

Dear Sun, from Thy life all things draw life's breath ;
Nought thence is forced to die, save only Death.
Nor is Death forced-since in Thy grave to lie,
Death will itself, O Christ, be glad to die.

CXII.

Aliqui vero dubitabant. Matt. xxviii. 17.

R. WI.

Scilicet et tellus dubitat, tremebunda: sed ipsum hoe,

Quod tellus dubitat, vos dubitare vetat.

Ipsi custodes vobis, si quaeritis, illud

Hoc ipse dicunt, dicere quod nequeunt.

But some doubted.

Earth, quaking, wavers: if that fact be true,
The wavering earth forbids you waver too.
The very keepers, if their voice you seek,
Though speechless, even by their silence speak. R. W1.

CXIII.

In vulnerum vestigia quae ostendit Dominus, ad firmandam suorum fidem. Joan. xx. 20.

His oculis, nec adhuc clausis coïere fenestris,

Invigilans nobis est tuus usus amor.

His oculis nos cernit amor tuus: his et amorem,
Christe, tuum gaudet cernere nostra fides.

1 Ver. 2. σεισμὸς ἐγένετο μέγας. CR.

3 Ver. 4, ἐπείσθησαν οἱ τηροῦντες, καὶ ἐγένοντο ώσει νεκροί, Cr.

The scars of the wounds which the Lord showed to the strength

ening of His disciples' faith.

Thy love these eyes did open;

They're watching for us still:

These eyes, of love the token,

Our faith with love do fill.

CXIV.

G.

Mittit Joannes qui quaerant a Christo, an is sit. Luc. vii. 19.
Tu qui adeo impatiens properasti agnoscere Christum,
Tunc cum claustra uteri te tenuere tui,

Tu, quis sit Christus, rogitas? et quaeris ab ipso?
Hoc tibi vel mutus dicere quisque potest.1

John sends to Jesus . . . saying, Art Thou He that should come?
or look we for another?

And dost thou ask, who in thy mother's womb

So eager wast to hail Messiah come?

Thou ask, and of Himself, if Christ He be?
Why, even the very dumb can answer thee.

CXV.

In Petrum auricidam. Joan. xviii. 10.

CL.

Quantumcunque ferox tuus hic, Petre, fulminat ensis,
Tu tibi jam pugnas, ô bone, non Domino.
Scilicet in miseram furis implacidissimus aurem,
Perfidiae testis ne queat esse tuae.

1 Barksdale, as before, renders the closing couplet thus:

'Is He the Christ? And the inquiry is

Of Himself? Why, the dumb can answer this.'

lauram. Matt. xxvii. 24.

lavar un la tuas, vanissime judex :

Ah non illa suolus non lavat unda tuum! dus lavet da tuum ; vel si lavet ulla, lis illa venire tuis.

Barksdale, as before, renders the latter couplet. G.

To Pontius washing his hands.

Thy hands are washt; but, O, the water's spilt
That labour'd to have washt thy guilt:

The flood, if any can, that can suffice,

Must have its fountaine in thine eyes.

CR.

ANOTHER VERSION.

The unjust judge washt his hands at the time:

Ah, but no water can wash out thy crime.

No water washt it out: if any will,

'Tis that which must from thy owne eyes distil. B.

CXVIII.

In piscem dotatum. Matt. xvii. 27.

Tu piscem si, Christe, velis, venit ecce, suumque
Fert pretium tanti est vel periisse tibi.
Christe, foro tibi non opus est; addicere nummos
Non opus est ipsum se tibi piscis emet.

The stater-giving fish.

A fish Thou wishest, Lord;
And without e'er a word,
Behold, it swims to Thee,
Fetching its own cost, free.
Thou needest not to go

In markets to and fro;

Nor need'st Thou price to bring

The fish owns Thee its king.

G.

Tu contra mun lum dux es meus, optime Jesu!

At tu, me miserum dux meus ipse jaces. Si tu. dux meus, ipse jaces, spes ulla salutis ? Immɔ, ni jaleas tu, mihi nulla salus.

I have overccpu the world.

Jesus, my Captain, give me victories!
Alas, Jesus Himself, my Captain, dies.

An if my Captain fall, what hope have I!
No hope at all, unless my Captain die.

ANOTHER VERSION.

Art Thou my Chief, best Lord, against the foe?
But Thou, my Chief, me wretched! liest low.
If Thou, my Chief, liest low, what help for me?
Nay, if Thou liest not low, no help can be.

CXX.

In ascensionem Dominicam. Act. i. 10.

Vadit, io, per aperta sui penetralia coeli :

It coelo, et coelum fundit ab ore novum.
Spargitur ante pedes, et toto sidere pronus
Jam propius solis sol bibit ora sui.
At fratri debere negans sua lumina Phoebe,
Aurea de Phoebo jam meliore redit.

Hos, de te victo, tu das, Pater, ipse triumphos:
Unde triumphares, quis satis alter erat?

B.

A.