« السابقةمتابعة »
Then these bodies dull and moldering,
Thus the seeds though dried and shriveled,
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, Likenesses of His own face.
Soon shall come the times of justice,
And laid open thou must render
Back this form I to thee lend.
DE SANCTIS INNOCENTIBUS
Salvete, flores martyrum!
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,
Tender flock so soon cut down, Simple, 'neath the very altar
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;