Read Ebook: The Hymns of Prudentius by Prudentius Pope R Martin Robert Martin Translator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 817 lines and 51077 words, and 17 pages

THE HYMNS of PRUDENTIUS

TRANSLATED by R. MARTIN POPE.

MDCCCCV PUBLISHED BY J.M. DENT AND CO: ALDINE HOUSE LONDON W C

CATHEMERINON LIBER OF PRUDENTIUS

HYMNS FOR THE CHRISTIAN'S DAY

NEWLY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE

PRAEFATIO

Per quinquennia iam decem, ni fallor, fuimus: septimus insuper annum cardo rotat, dum fruimur sole volubili. Instat terminus et diem vicinum senio iam Deus adplicat. 5 Quid nos utile tanti spatio temporis egimus? Aetas prima crepantibus flevit sub ferulis: mox docuit toga infectum vitiis falsa loqui, non sine crimine. Tum lasciva protervitas, 10 et luxus petulans foedavit iuvenem nequitiae sordibus ac luto. Exin iurgia turbidos armarunt animos et male pertinax vincendi studium subiacuit casibus asperis. 15 Bis legum moderamine frenos nobilium reximus urbium, ius civile bonis reddidimus, terruimus reos. Tandem militiae gradu evectum pietas principis extulit 20 adsumptum propius stare iubens ordine proximo. Haec dum vita volans agit, inrepsit subito canities seni oblitum veteris me Saliae consulis arguens: ex quo prima dies mihi 25 quam multas hiemes volverit et rosas pratis post glaciem reddiderit, nix capitis probat. Numquid talia proderunt carnis post obitum vel bona vel mala, cum iam, quidquid id est, quod fueram, mors aboleverit? 30 Dicendum mihi; Quisquis es, mundum, quem coluit, mens tua perdidit: non sunt illa Dei, quae studuit, cuius habeberis. Atqui fine sub ultimo peccatrix anima stultitiam exuat: 35 saltem voce Deum concelebret, si meritis nequit: hymnis continuet dies, nec nox ulla vacet, quin Dominum canat: pugnet contra hereses, catholicam discutiat fidem, conculcet sacra gentium, 40 labem, Roma, tuis inferat idolis, carmen martyribus devoveat, laudet apostolos. Haec dum scribo vel eloquor, vinclis o utinam corporis emicem liber, quo tulerit lingua sono mobilis ultimo. 45

PREFACE

Full fifty years my span of life hath run, Unless I err, and seven revolving years Have further sped while I the sun enjoy. Yet now the end draws nigh, and by God's will Old age's bound is reached: how have I spent And with what fruit so wide a tract of days? I wept in boyhood 'neath the sounding rod: Youth's toga donned, the rhetorician's arts I plied and with deceitful pleadings sinned: Anon a wanton life and dalliance gross Fouled and polluted manhood's opening bloom: And then the forum's strife my restless wits Enthralled, and the keen lust of victory Drove me to many a bitterness and fall. Twice held I in fair cities of renown The reins of office, and administered To good men justice and to guilty doom. At length the Emperor's will beneficent Exalted me to military power And to the rank that borders on the throne. The years are speeding onward, and gray hairs Of old have mantled o'er my brows And Salia's consulship from memory dies. What frost-bound winters since that natal year Have fled, what vernal suns reclothed The meads with roses,--this white crown declares. Yet what avail the prizes or the blows Of fortune, when the body's spark is quenched And death annuls whatever state I held? This sentence I must hear: "Whate'er thou art, Thy mind hath lost the world it loved: not God's The things thou soughtest, Whose thou now shalt be." Yet now, ere hence I pass, my sinning soul Shall doff its folly and shall praise my Lord If not by deeds, at least with humble lips. Let each day link itself with grateful hymns And every night re-echo songs of God: Yea, be it mine to fight all heresies, Unfold the meanings of the Catholic faith, Trample on Gentile rites, thy gods, O Rome, Dethrone, the Martyrs laud, th' Apostles sing. O while such themes my pen and tongue employ, May death strike off these fetters of the flesh And bear me whither my last breath shall rise!

Ales diei nuntius lucem propinquam praecinit; nos excitator mentium iam Christus ad vitam vocat.

Auferte, clamat, lectulos 5 aegros, soporos, desides: castique recti ac sobrii vigilate, iam sum proximus.

Post solis ortum fulgidi serum est cubile spernere, 10 ni parte noctis addita tempus labori adieceris.

Vox ista, qua strepunt aves stantes sub ipso culmine paulo ante quam lux emicet, 15 nostri figura est iudicis.

Tectos tenebris horridis stratisque opertos segnibus suadet quietem linquere iam iamque venturo die. 20

Ut, cum coruscis flatibus aurora caelum sparserit, omnes labore exercitos confirmet ad spem luminis.

Hic somnus ad tempus datus 25 est forma mortis perpetis, peccata ceu nox horrida cogunt iacere ac stertere.

Sed vox ab alto culmine Christi docentis praemonet, 30 adesse iam lucem prope, ne mens sopori serviat:

Ne somnus usque ad terminos vitae socordis opprimat pectus sepultum crimine 35 et lucis oblitum suae.

Ferunt vagantes daemonas laetos tenebris noctium, gallo canente exterritos sparsim timere et cedere. 40

Invisa nam vicinitas lucis, salutis, numinis rupto tenebrarum situ noctis fugat satellites.

Hoc esse signum praescii 45 norunt repromissae spei, qua nos soporis liberi speramus adventum Dei.

Quae vis sit huius alitis, salvator ostendit Petro, 50 ter antequam gallus canat sese negandum praedicans.

Fit namque peccatum prius, quam praeco lucis proximae inlustret humanum genus 55 finemque peccandi ferat.

Flevit negator denique ex ore prolapsum nefas, cum mens maneret innocens, animusque servaret fidem. 60

Nec tale quidquam postea linguae locutus lubrico est, cantuque galli cognito peccare iustus destitit.

Inde est quod omnes credimus, 65 illo quietis tempore quo gallus exsultans canit Christum redisse ex inferis.

Tunc mortis oppressus vigor, tunc lex subacta est tartari, 70 tunc vis diei fortior noctem coegit cedere.

Iam iam quiescant inproba, iam culpa furva obdormiat, iam noxa letalis suum 75 perpessa somnum marceat.

Vigil vicissim spiritus quodcumque restat temporis, dum meta noctis clauditur, stans ac laborans excubet. 80

Iesum ciamus vocibus flentes, precantes, sobrii: intenta supplicatio dormire cor mundum vetat.

Sat convolutis artubus 85 sensum profunda oblivio pressit, gravavit, obruit vanis vagantem somniis.

Sunt nempe falsa et frivola, quae mundiali gloria 90 ceu dormientes egimus: vigilemus, hic est veritas.

Aurum, voluptas, gaudium, opes, honores, prospera, quaecumque nos inflant mala, 95 fit mane, nil sunt omnia.

Tu, Christe, somnum dissice, tu rumpe noctis vincula, tu solve peccatum vetus novumque lumen ingere. 100

Awake! the shining day is born! The herald cock proclaims the morn: And Christ, the soul's Awakener, cries, Bidding us back to life arise.

Away the sluggard's bed! away The slumber of the soul's decay! Ye chaste and just and temperate, Watch! I am standing at the gate.

After the sun hath risen red 'Tis late for men to scorn their bed, Unless a portion of the night They seize for labours of the light.

Mark ye, what time the dawn draws nigh, How 'neath the eaves the swallows cry? Know that by true similitude Their notes our Judge's voice prelude.

When hid by shades of dark malign On beds of softness we recline, They call us forth with music clear Warning us that the day is near.

When breezes bright of orient morn With rosy hues the heavens adorn, They cheer with hope of gladdening light The hearts that spend in toil their might.

Though sleep be but a passing guest 'Tis type of death's perpetual rest: Our sins are as a ghastly night, And seal with slumbers deep our sight.

But from the wide roof of the sky Christ's voice peals forth with urgent cry, Calling our sleep-bound hearts to rise And greet the dawn with wakeful eyes.

He bids us fear lest sensual ease Unto life's end the spirit seize And in the tomb of shame us bind, Till we are to the true light blind.

'Tis said that baleful spirits roam Abroad beneath the dark's vast dome; But, when the cock crows, take their flight Sudden dispersed in sore affright.

For the foul votaries of the night Abhor the coming of the light, And shamed before salvation's grace The hosts of darkness hide their face.

They know the cock doth prophesy Of Hope's long-promised morning sky, When comes the Majesty Divine Upon awakened worlds to shine.

The Lord to Peter once foretold What meaning that shrill strain should hold, How he before cock-crow would lie And thrice his Master dear deny.

For 'tis a law that sin is done Before the herald of the sun To humankind the dawn proclaims And with his cry the sinner shames.

Then wept he bitter tears aghast That from his lips the words had passed, Though guileless he his soul possessed And faith still reigned within his breast.

Nor ever reckless word he said Thereafter, by his tongue betrayed, But at the cock's familiar cry Humbled he turned from vanity.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet