COMMUNE DOCTORUM.

LXXXVIII.

HAIL, glorious Lights, kindled at God's own urn,
Salt of the nations-whence the soul imbue
Savours of Godhead, virtues pure and true,
So that all die not-whence serenely burn
In their bright Orbs sure Truth and Virtue bold,
Putting on virgin honours undefiled:
Bounteous by you the World's Deliverer mild
Of treasured Wisdom deals His stores untold.
Hail! channels where the living waters flow,
Whence the Redeemer's field shews fair, and glow
The golden harvests: ye from realms above

Bring meat for manly hearts, and milk for babes in

These bear, great God, Thy sword and shield;

These rear th' eternal Palace Hall;

Skill'd with one hand Thine arms to wield,

With one to build Thy Wall.

Ye in your bright celestial panoply

O'ercame dark Heresy :

And when her brood from Stygian night

Renew the fight,

We too may grasp your arrows bright,

E'en till this hour we combat in your mail,

And with no doubtful end,-we combat and prevail. Hail! Heavenly Truth, guiding the pen

Of wise and holy men;

To thee, though thou be voiceless, doth belong

A spirit's tongue,

Which, in the heart's deep home, uttereth a song.

LXXXIX.

THE GREEK FATHERS.

LET others sing thy heathen praise,
Fallen Greece! the thought of holier days

Per vos Relligio, tutaque Veritas
Per vos virgineis fulget honoribus:
Per vos Christus amat pandere divites
Thesauros Sapientiæ.

Vestris unda fluit pura canalibus;
Christi floret ager; munda nitet seges;
Lac aptum pueriset solidum viris
-Cauti sufficitis cibum.

Hi sunt, Summe Deus, qui tibi militant:
Hi sunt qui stabiles ædificant domos:

Una doeta cohors arma tenet manu,

Muros construit alterá.

Vicistis Stygias vos quibus Hæreses,
Hæc nos accipimus tela superstites:
His pugnamus adhuc, nec dubio exitu.
His armis quoque vincimus.

Sit suprema tibi gloria, Veritas,

Quæ per scripta Patrum, quando foris sonas,
Nullo, vocis egens, corda doces sono;

Et te mentibus inseris.

In my sad heart abides;

For sons of thine in Truth's first hour

Were tongues and weapons of His power,

Born of the Spirit's fiery shower,

Our fathers and our guides.

All thine is Clement's varied page;
And Dionysius, ruler sage,

In days of doubt and pain;
And Origen with eagle eye;
And saintly Basil's purpose high
To smite imperial heresy,

And cleanse the Altar's stain.

From thee the glorious Preacher came,
With soul of zeal and lips of flame,
A court's stern martyr-guest;

And thine, O inexhaustive race!
Was Nazianzen's heaven-taught grace;

And royal-hearted Athanase,

With Paul's own mantle blest.

XC.

CLEMENT.

METHOUGHT I saw a face divinely fair,

With nought of earthly passion; the mild beam Of whose bright eye did in mute converse seem With other countenances, and they were

Gazing on her made beautiful. Their theme Was One that had gone up the heavenly stair, And left a fragrance on this lower air,

The contemplation of His Love Supreme.
And that high form held forth to me a hand;
It was celestial Wisdom, whose calm brow
Did of those early Sciences inquire,

If they had of His glory ought retained ;—
Yes! I would be admitted to your choir,

That I may nothing love on earth below.

نه