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Kitobni o'qish: «Hymns of the Early Church», sahifa 5

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LUSTRA SEX QUI JAM PEREGIT

By some attributed to St. Ambrose, but generally and with greater probability to Fortunatus. There is an imitation of this hymn in English by Bishop Mant, beginning, “See the destined day arise!” one of the Passion hymns in “Hymns Ancient and Modern” (No. 99).

I

Thirty years by God appointed,
And there dawns the woeful day,
When the great Redeemer girds Him
For the tumult of the fray;
And upon the cross uplifted,
Bears our load of guilt away.

II

Ah! ’tis bitter gall He drinketh,
When His heart in anguish fails; —
From the thorns His life-blood trickles,
From the spear wound and the nails;
But that crimson stream for cleansing,
O’er creation wide prevails.

III

Faithful Cross! in all the woodland,
Standeth not a nobler tree;
In thy leaf, and flower, and fruitage,
None can e’er thy equal be;
Sweet the wood, and sweet the iron,
Sweet the load that hung on thee.

IV

Noble tree! unbend thy branches,
Let thy stubborn fibres bend,
Cast thy native rigour from thee,
Be a gentle, loving friend;
Bear Him in thine arms, and softly,
Christ, the King eternal, tend.

V

Only thou could’st bear the burden
Of the ransom of our race;
Only thou could’st be a refuge,
Like the ark, a hiding-place,
By the sacred blood anointed,
Of the Covenant of Grace.

VI

Blessing, blessing everlasting,
To the glorious Trinity;
To the Father, Son, and Spirit,
Equal glory let there be;
Universal praise be given,
To the Blessed One in Three.

CRUX AVE BENEDICTA

This little poem, which he pronounces “perfect in its kind,” is taken by Trench from Daniel’s Thesaurus, without any note of author or of date.

I

Hail, thou Blessed Cross, all hail!
Death no longer can prevail.
On those arms extended high,
Did my King and Saviour die.

II

Queen of all the trees that grow,
Medicine when health is low,
Solace to the cumbered heart,
Comfort thou when sorrows smart.

III

O! most sacred wood, the sign
That eternal life is mine;
On the fruit thy branches give,
Feeds the human heart to live.

IV

When, around the Judgment-seat,
Friends of thine and foes shall meet,
Be my prayer, O Christ, to Thee,
And in love remember me.

HORÆ DE PASSIONE D. N. JESU CHRISTI

From a fourteenth-century MS., where it bears the title, “Hours of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, compiled from the Prophets and the New Testament by the Blessed Pope Urban” (b. 1302, d. 1370).

(AD PRIMAM)

(Tu qui velatus facie)

I

Veiled was the glory of Thy face,
O Jesus, Lord of heavenly grace,
When mocking knees were bent in scorn,
And bitter stripes were meekly borne.

II

To Thee the prayer of faith we send,
In Thee we hope: O Lord, attend,
And in Thy mercy lead the way
To where Thy glory shines as day.

III

To Thee be highest honours paid,
O Christ, who wast by man betrayed,
Who on the cross of anguish sore
Didst die, that we might die no more.

(AD TERTIAM)

(Hora qui ductus tertia)

IV

O Christ, who in that hour of dread
Forth as a sacrifice wast led;
Who, to retrieve our grievous loss,
Didst bear the burden of the cross.

V

O may Thy Love our hearts inflame;
Be Thy pure life our constant aim;
That we may win the heavenly rest,
And share the glories of the blest.

VI

To Thee be highest honours paid,
O Christ, who wast by man betrayed;
Who on the cross of anguish sore
Didst die, that we might die no more.

(AD SEXTAM)

(Crucem pro nobis subiit)

VII

For us the cruel cross He bare,
Endured the thirst while hanging there —
O Jesus! Thou hast anguish borne,
Thy hands and feet with nails were torn.

VIII

Honour and blessing be to Thee,
O Christ, who hung upon the tree,
Who, by the offering of Thy grace,
Didst save from death our fallen race.

(AD NONAM)

(Beata Christi passio)

IX

Thy blessed Passion, Christ, be ours,
To set us free from Satan’s powers;
To aid our fainting souls to rise
To joys prepared in Paradise.

X

To Christ the Lord all glory be,
Who, hanging on the shameful tree,
Gave up His life with bitter cry,
And saved a world prepared to die.

XI

To Thee be highest honours paid,
O Christ, who wast by man betrayed,
Who, on the cross of anguish sore,
Didst die, that we might die no more.

(AD COMPLETORIUM)

(Qui jacuisti mortuus)

XII

O spotless King, who shared its gloom,
And lay at peace within the tomb,
Teach us to find our rest in Thee,
And sing Thy praise eternally.

XIII

Come to our help, O Lord, who gave
Thy precious blood our souls to save;
Lead us to Thine eternal peace,
Whose sweetest joys shall never cease.

Easter

FINITA JAM SUNT PRÆLIA

Of unknown date and authorship. It has not been traced further back than the Hymnodia Sacra, Munster, 1753.

I

Alleluia! Alleluia!
The din of battle now is dead,
And glory crowns the Victor’s head;
Let mirth abound,
And songs resound – Alleluia!

II

Alleluia! alleluia!
The bitter pangs of death are past,
And Christ hath vanquished hell at last;
Cheers are ringing,
Psalms are singing – Alleluia!

III

Alleluia! alleluia!
And when the morn appointed broke,
All decked with beauty Christ awoke;
O shout with glee,
Sing merrily – Alleluia!

IV

Alleluia! Alleluia!
Hell hath He closed with His own hand,
The gates of heaven wide open stand;
Let mirth abound,
And songs resound – Alleluia!

V

Alleluia! Alleluia!
’Tis Thy wounds, O Blessed Jesus —
’Tis Thy death from dying frees us,
That living, we
May sing with glee – Alleluia!

PLAUDITE, CŒLI!

A Jesuit hymn, taken by Walraff, in 1806, out of the Psalteriolum Cantiorum Catholicarum a Patribus Societati Jesu.

I

Shout praises, ye heavens,
And sigh them, soft air;
From highest to lowest,
Sing, sing everywhere;
For black clouds of tempest
Are banished from sight;
And spring, crowned with glory,
Is pouring her light.

II

Come forth with the spring-time,
Sweet flow’rets, and spread
Your rich hues around us
Where nature lay dead;
Come, violets modest,
And roses so gay,
With lilies and marigolds,
Spangle the way.

III

Flow joy song in fulness,
Flow higher and higher;
Pour forth thy sweet measures,
Thou murmuring lyre;
O sing, for He liveth,
As truly He said,
Yea, Jesus hath risen
Unharmed from the dead.

IV

Shout praises, ye mountains,
Vales catch the refrain;
Frisk gaily, ye fountains;
Hills, tell it again —
He liveth, He liveth,
As truly He said;
Yea, Jesus hath risen
Unharmed from the dead.

MORTIS PORTIS FRACTIS

By Peter of St. Maurice, sometimes styled Peter of Cluny, but best known as Peter the Venerable. Born in Auvergne, 1092 or 1094; began life as a soldier; afterwards became a Benedictine monk; elected abbot of the monastery of his order at Cluny in Burgundy; died there in 1156 or 1157. The greater part of his literary activity was given to the controversy between the Clugnian and Cistercian, or “black” and “white” monks. This Resurrection hymn is taken from “Some Rhythms, Proses, Sequences, Verses, and Hymns,” contained in the Bibliotheca Cluniacencis, 1623.

I

Burst are the iron gates of death —
A stronger power prevails;
For, by the cross, the cruel king
Before the Victor quails,
O clear the light that shines afar,
Where darkness held its sway,
For God, who made the light at first,
Restores its gladdening ray.

II

That sinners might for ever live,
The great Creator dies,
And by His death to new estate
Our souls enraptured rise.
There, Satan groaned in baffled hate,
Where Christ our triumph won —
For what to Him was deathly loss,
To man was life begun.

III

He grasps the envied prize, but fails,
And while he wounds, he dies;
But calmly, and with mighty power,
The King secures the prize;
And, leaving earth, His triumph won,
He seeks His native skies.

IV

And now triumphant o’er the grave,
The Lord to earth returns;
To new create our fallen race,
His soul with ardour burns;
Down to the dwellings of the lost,
To dwell with man He came;
And hearts in grievous bondage held,
Receive Him with acclaim.

ALLELUIA, DULCE CARMEN

Found in three MSS. of the eleventh century in the British Museum Library, and published by the Surtees Society in the “Latin Hymns of the Anglo-Saxon Church,” from a MS. of the eleventh century, in Durham Library.

I

Alleluia, hymn of sweetness,
Joyful voice of ceaseless praise;
Alleluia, pleasant anthem,
Choirs celestial sweetly raise:
This the song of those abiding
In the house of God always.

II

Alleluia, Mother Salem,
All Thy people joy in song;
Alleluia, walls and bulwarks
Evermore the notes prolong:
Ah! beside the streams of Babel,
Exiled, weep we o’er our wrong.

III

Alleluia, ’tis befitting
That our song should falter here;
Alleluia, can we sing it
When the clouds of wrath appear?
To bemoan our sin with weeping,
Now the time is drawing near.

IV

Trinity, for ever blessed!
May we sing the gladsome lay,
When from sin our souls are severed,
And the clouds have passed away,
And we share the Easter glory,
In the realms of endless day?

Ascension

ÆTERNE REX ALTISSIME

A hymn of complex authorship and of frequently altered text.

I

Eternal King, enthroned on high,
Redeemer, strong Thy folk to save;
Thee, powerful death, by death o’ercome,
A royal crown of triumph gave.

II

Ascending to the throne of God,
Beyond the glittering host of heaven,
More power than human hand could give
To Thee, victorious King, is given.

III

Three kingdoms bow before Thee now —
The heavens above, the earth below,
Hell’s dark abode – and to their Lord,
On bended knee, submission show.

IV

All awe inspired, the angel host
Behold man’s changed estate, amazed;
Our sinful flesh, by flesh renewed,
And man, true God, to Godhead raised.

V

O Christ, with God who dwell’st on high,
Be Thou to us, we humbly pray,
A lasting joy while here we wait,
Our great reward in heaven for aye.

VI

In earnest prayer we come to Thee;
O may our sins be all forgiven,
And lift our hearts by Thy rich grace,
To where Thou art Thyself, in heaven.

VII

That when in clouds of Judgment dire,
Thou com’st with Thine angelic host,
We may escape the avenger’s power,
And wear anew the crowns we lost.

VIII

To Thee, O Christ, all glory be,
Victor returning now to heaven;
To Father, and to Holy Ghost,
Let praise through endless years be given.

POSTQUAM HOSTEM ET INFERNA

By Adam of St. Victor. (See p. 49.)

I

Broken are the bands that bound us,
Spoiled are Satan’s realms around us,
And to joys supernal now,
Christ returns with hosts attending,
And, as when at first descending,
Angel guards their homage bow.

II

Far above the stars ascending,
Faith alone His course attending,
Passing now from mortal sight;
To His hand all power is given,
One with God He rules in heaven,
One in honour and in might.

III

Victor on His throne uplifted,
See all rule to Him is gifted,
O’er Creation’s wide domain.
Now for evermore He liveth,
Nevermore His life He giveth —
Once the sacrifice was slain.

IV

Once He wore our flesh in weakness,
Once He suffered, once in meekness
Gave Himself for sin to die.
Now no longer pain He knoweth:
Perfect peace for ever floweth,
Perfect joy is ever nigh.

CŒLOS ASCENDIT HODIE

Of unknown date and authorship. The text is in Daniel’s Thesaurus, with “Alleluia” as a refrain. Dr. Neale gives it in his “Mediæval Hymns and Sequences” as “apparently of the twelfth century.”