The Hymns of Prudentius Part 14

Veniant modo tempora iusta, c.u.m spem Deus inpleat omnem; reddas patefacta necesse est, qualem tibi trado figuram. 140

Non, si cariosa vetustas dissolverit ossa favillis, fueritque cinisculus arens minimi mensura pugilli.

Nec, si vaga flamina et aurae 145 vacuum per inane volantes tulerint c.u.m pulvere nervos, hominem periisse licebit.

Sed dum resolubile corpus revocas, Deus, atque reformas, 150 quanam regione iubebis animam requiescere puram?

Gremio senis addita sancti recubabit, ut est Eleazar, quem floribus undique septum 155 Dives procul adspicit ardens.

Sequimur tua dicta redemptor, quibus atra morte triumphans tua per vestigia mandas socium crucis ire latronem. 160

Patet ecce fidelibus ampli via lucida iam paradisi, licet et nemus illud adire, homini quod ademerat anguis.

Illic precor, optime ductor, 165 famulam tibi praecipe mentem genitali in sede sacrari, quam liquerat exul et errans.

Nos tecta fovebimus ossa violis et fronde frequenti, 170 t.i.tulumque et frigida saxa liquido spargemus odore.

X. HYMN FOR THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

Fountain of life, supernal Fire, Who didst unite in wondrous wise The soul that lives, the clay that dies, And mad'st them Man: eternal Sire,

Both elements Thy will obey, Thine is the bond that joins the twain, And, while united they remain, Spirit and body own Thy sway.

Yet they must one day disunite, Sunder in death this mortal frame; Dust to the dust from whence it came, The spirit to its heavenward flight.

For all created things must wane, And age must break the bond at last; The diverse web that Life held fast Death's fingers shall unweave again.

Yet, gracious G.o.d, Thou dost devise The death of Death for all Thine own; The path of safety Thou hast shown Whereby the doomed limbs may rise:

So that, while fragile bonds of earth Man's n.o.blest essence still enfold, That part may yet the sceptre hold Which from pure aether hath its birth.

For if the earthy will hold sway, By gross desires and aims possessed, The soul, too, by the weight oppressed, Follows the body's downward way.

But if she scorn the guilt that mars-- Still mindful of her fiery sphere-- She bears the flesh, her comrade here, Back to her home beyond the stars.

The lifeless body we restore To earth, must slumber free from pain A little while, that it may gain The spirit's fellows.h.i.+p once more.

The years will pa.s.s with rapid pace Till through these limbs the life shall flow, And the long-parted spirit go To seek her olden dwelling-place.

Then shall the body, that hath lain And turned to dust in slow decay, On airy wings be borne away And join its ancient soul again.

Therefore our tenderest care we spend Upon the grave: and mourners go With solemn dirge and footstep slow-- Love's last sad tribute to a friend.

With fair white linen we enfold The dear dead limbs, and richest store Of Eastern unguents duly pour Upon the body still and cold.

Why hew the rocky tomb so deep, Why raise the monument so fair, Save that the form we cherish there Is no dead thing, but laid to sleep?

This is the faithful ministry Of Christian men, who hold it true That all shall one day live anew Who now in icy slumber lie.

And he whose pitying hand shall lay Some friendless outcast 'neath the sod, E'en to the almighty Son of G.o.d Doth that benignant service pay.

For this same law doth bid us mourn Man's common fate, when strangers die, And pay the tribute of a sigh, As when our kin to rest are borne.

Of holy Tobit ye have read, (Grave father of a pious son), Who, though the feast was set, would run To do his duty by the dead.

Though waiting servants stood around, From meat and drink he turned away And girt himself in haste to lay The bones with weeping in the ground.

Soon Heaven his righteous zeal repays With rich reward; the eyes long blind In bitter gall strange virtue find And open to the sun's clear rays.

Thus hath our Heavenly Father shown How sharp and bitter is the smart When sudden on the purblind heart The Daystar's healing light is thrown.

He taught us, too, that none may gaze Upon the heavenly demesne Ere that in darkness and in pain His feet have trod the world's rough ways.

So unto death itself is given Strange bliss, when mortal agony Opens the way that leads on high And pain is but the path to Heaven.

Thus to a far serener day Our body from the grave returns; Eternal life within it burns That knows nor languor nor decay.

These faces now so pinched and pale, That marks of lingering sickness show, Then fairer than the rose shall glow And bloom with youth that ne'er shall fail.

Ne'er shall crabbed age their beauty dim With wrinkled brow and tresses grey, Nor arid leanness eat away The vigour of the rounded limb.

Racked with his own destroying pains Shall fell Disease, who now attacks Our aching frames, his force relax Fast fettered in a thousand chains:

While from its far celestial throne The immortal body, victor now, Shall watch its old tormentor bow And in eternal tortures groan.

Why do the clamorous mourners wail In bootless sorrow murmuring?

And why doth grief unreasoning G.o.d's righteous ordinance a.s.sail?

Hushed be your voices, ye that mourn; Ye weeping mothers, dry the tear; Let none lament for children dear, For man through Death to Life is born.

So do dry seeds grow green again, Now dead and buried in the earth, And rising to a second birth Clothe as of old the verdant plain.

Take now, O earth, the load we bear, And cherish in thy gentle breast This mortal frame we lay to rest, The poor remains that were so fair.

For they were once the soul's abode, That by G.o.d's breath created came; And in them, like a living flame, Christ's precious gift of wisdom glowed.

Guard thou the body we have laid Within thy care, till He demand The creature fas.h.i.+oned by His hand And after His own image made.

The appointed time soon may we see When G.o.d shall all our hopes fulfil, And thou must render to His will Unchanged the charge we give to thee.

For though consumed by mould and rust Man's body slowly fades away, And years of lingering decay Leave but a handful of dry dust;

Though wandering winds, that idly fly, Should his disparted ashes bear Through all the wide expanse of air, Man may not perish utterly.

Yet till Thou dost build up again This mortal structure by Thy hand, In what far world wilt Thou command The soul to rest, now free from stain?