« السابقةمتابعة »
Then these bodies dull and moldering,
Sleeping in the graves before,
Shall be borne on airy pinions,
Joined unto their souls of yore.
Thus the seeds though dried and shriveled,
And from 'neath the sod returning
Now, O earth, receive, to cherish,
This was once a spirit's dwelling,
Shelter Thou this body laid here!
His own works who formed and framed them,
Soon shall come the times of justice,
When shall God each hope transcend;
And laid open thou must render
Back this form I to thee lend.
DE SANCTIS INNOCENTIBUS
Salvete, flores martyrum!
Quos saevus ensis messuit,
Vos, prima Christi victima, Grex immolatorum tener, Aram sub ipsam simplices Palma et coronis luditis.
Quid proficit tantum nefas; Quid crimen Herodem iuvat? Unus tot inter funera Impune Christus tollitur.
Cunae redundant sanguine; Sed in Deum frustra furit: Unum petit tot mortibus, Mortes tot unus effugit.
OF THE HOLY INNOCENTS
Hail, ye blossoms of the martyrs!
Ye, of Christ the earliest victims,
Sport ye now with palm and crown.
What avails so great a horror;
What doth profit Herod's act? 'Mid so many trains funereal Christ is borne away intact.
Reek with gore full many cradles;