Immane rugit jam tonitru; fragor Tartara disjiciuntur antris. Heic strata passim vincula, et heic jacent Unci cruenti, tormina mentium Invisa, ploratuque vasto Spicula Mors sibi adempta plangit. En, ut resurgit victor ab ultimo Quanta angelorum gaudia jubilant, "Io triumphe," plectra seraphica, Astra repercutiunt triumphos. SUI IPSIUS INCREPATIO. EPIGRAMMA. CORFORE cur hæres, Wattsi! cur incola terræ ! Quid cupis indignum, mens, habitare lutum ! Te caro mille malis premit ; hinc juvenes gravat artus Languor, et hinc vegetus crimina sanguis alit: Cura, amor, ira, dolor, mentem male distrahit, auceps Undique adest Satanas retia sæva struens. Suspice ut æthereum signant tibi nutibus astra Tramitem, et aula vocat parta cruore Dei. Te manet Uriel dux, et tibi subjicit alas Stellatas seraphin officiosa cohors: Te superum chorus optat amans, te invitat Iesus, "Huc ades, et nostro tempora conde sinu.” Vere amat ille lutum quem nec dolor aut Satan arcet Inde, nec alliciunt angelus, astra, Deus. EXCITATIO CORDIS COLUM VERSUS. HEU! quot secla teris carcere corporis, Magni Patris anhelitat? Corpus vile creat mille molestias, Cæcas insidias struit. Non hoc grata tibi gaudia de solo Et picta astra perambulans. Coeli summa petas, nec jaculabitur. 1694. Pennas nunc homini datas.1 1 Vide Horat. Lib. i. Od. 3, [34, 35.] BREATHING TOWARD THE HEAVENLY COUNTRY. CASIMIRE, BOOK I. OD. 19, IMITATED. "Urit me patriæ decor," &c. THE beauty of my native land Immortal love inspires; I burn, I burn with strong desires, And sigh, and wait the high command. There glides the moon her shining way, And shoots my heart through with a silver ray; Upward my heart aspires: A thousand lamps of golden light, Hung high in vaulted azure, charm my sight, And wink and beckon with their amorous fires. O ye fair glories of my heavenly home, Bright sentinels, who guard my Father's court, Where all the happy minds resort, When will my Father's chariot come? Must ye for ever walk the ethereal round? For ever see the mourner lie An exile of the sky, A prisoner of the ground? Descend, some shining servants from on high, Build me a hasty tomb; A grassy turf will raise my head, The neighbouring lilies dress my bed, Here I put off the chains of death, Raphael, behold me, all undress'd, Then mount, and lead the path unknown; Swift I pursue thee, flaming guide, on pinions of my own. CASIMIRI EPIGRAMMA C. In Sanctum Ardalionem, qui, ex mimo Christianus factus, martyrium passus est. ARDALIO sacros deridet carmine ritus, "hiulco Fulmine; tam facilem, Gratia, vince virum." Deserit illa polos, et deserit iste theatrum, Et tereti sacrum volvit in ense caput: "Sic, sic," inquit, "abit nostræ comœdia vitæ ; Terra vale cœlum, plaude! tyranne, feri!" |