Sweet restoration! by new joys outweigh'd, Brief sorrow is exil'd, And the lorn widow is a mother made Twice in her only child.

O happy mother! then a mother most When all her hopes seem'd vain: Happy, who wept beside a dear son lost, And found him born again. CL.

XXVI.

_Bonum intrare in coelos c.u.m uno oculo, &c._ Matt. xviii. 9.

Uno oculo? ah centum potius mihi, millia centum: Nam quis ibi, in coelo, quis satis Argus erit?

Aut si oculus mihi tantum unus conceditur, unus Iste oculus fiam totus et omnis ego.

_It is better to go into heaven with one eye, &c._

One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more, To fix those full-fac't glories. O, he's poore Of eyes that has but Argus' store!

Yet, if thou'lt fill one poore eye with Thy Heaven and Thee, O grant, sweet Goodnesse, that one eye may be All and every whit of me. CR.

ANOTHER VERSION.

With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord.

All Argus' eyes were no superlative To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.

Or, O my G.o.d, if unto those who die, It be Thy will only to give one eye, Grant my whole body that one eye to be, That thus I may forever gaze on Thee. G.

XXVII.

_Hydropicus sanatur._ Luc. xiv. 2-4.

Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis: Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas; Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.

Himself is his own sea; Dropsy his malady In sad severity.

But Christ the Lord he sees, Who touching him him frees; Now joyous and at ease.

Again, as I opine, The Lord trans.m.u.tes to wine By miracle divine;

And now, still more and more, His own wine-water store Pours mirth at ev'ry pore. G.

XXVIII.

_Non erat iis in diversorio locus._ Luc. ii. 7.

Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum?

Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus.

O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris!

Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.

_There was no room for them in the inn._

No place for Him! So Him you drive away; You drive away your G.o.d, your G.o.d. O, stay!

O height of human madness! wonders rare!

No place for Him! without Whom no place were. G.

XXIX.

_In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite._ Luc. xvi.

Felix, o, lacrymis, o Lazare, ditior istis, Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes: Illum c.u.m rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis, Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.

_Upon Lazarus his teares._

Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares, Than Dives in the roabes he weares: He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well With th' purple he must weare in h.e.l.l! CR.

ANOTHER RENDERING.

O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears Than he who midst his riches purple wears.

h.e.l.l's purple flames red-glowing shall be his: Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!

x.x.x.

_Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti._ Matt. xxvi. 65.

Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis: Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit.

Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.

_Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ._

Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is!

His fault that He is but Himself, I wis.

Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he Who leaves not G.o.d His own Divinity! G.

x.x.xI.

_c.u.m tot signa edidisset, non credebant in eum._ Joan. xii. 37.

Non tibi, Christe, fidem tua tot miracula praestant; O verbi, o dextrae dulcia regna tuae!

Non praestant? neque te post tot miracula credunt?

Mirac'lum qui non credidit, ipse fuit.[49]

_But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on Him._

For all Thy signs they still refuse Thee, Lord; Those signs, blest symbols of Thy reign and word.

Such signs, and not believe? Sure, who did thus Made unbelief itself miraculous. CL.