ALTITUDO, QUID HIC JACES? Oh, what marvels hast Thou lavished, Exiles from the bliss of Eden, Yet Thy heart hath loved again. Might divine becometh weakness; Oh, what marvels hast Thou lavished, Exiles from the bliss of Eden, Yet Thy heart hath loved again. Thou with childish lips wast clinging Oh, what marvels hast Thou lavished, Jesu, upon sinful men! Exiles from the bliss of Eden, Yet Thy heart hath loved again. WASHBURN. 64 253 WHY feedest thou on husks so coarse and rude? How camest thou companion to the swine? I loathed the courts of heaven, the choir divine. THE PRODIGAL. 255 Who bade thee crouch in hovel dark and drear? Harsh tyrant's slave who made thee, once so free? A father's rule too heavy seemed to me. What sordid rags hang round thee on the breeze? I laid immortal robes aside for these. An exile through the world who bade thee roam? None; but I wearied of a happy home. Why must thou dweller in a desert be? Why sue a beggar at the mean world's door? What has thy forehead so to earthward brought? TRENCH. MATIN HYMN OF ST. AMBROSE, FOURTH CENTURY. ALL-GLORIOUS Giver of the light, In Whose unclouded ray, After the shadows of the night, Blooms the new-risen day! Thou art the world's true morning star; Not he, that lesser one, Twinkling a feeble speck afar, Pale herald of the sun. LUCIS LARGITOR SPLENDIDE. O brighter than the noontide gleam; Builder of living worlds, draw nigh!. Smile of the Father's face! Our happy souls wide open lie Filled with Thy Spirit, may we keep Amid thick-coming cares, that fill The hours of daily time, Our conscience clear of crime! With virgin shame may the chaste mind. Thy Holy Ghost remain. Be this glad hope our matin song, O morning light, through midnight long Watch with unsleeping eyes! WASHBURN. 257 |