With one eye! Ah! but rather to me give A hundred or a hundred-thousand, Lord. All Argus' eyes were no superlative To view the glories Thy three heavens afford.
Or, O my God, if unto those who die, It be Thy will only to give one eye, Grant my whole body that one eye to be, That thus I may forever gaze on Thee. G.
Ipse suum pelagus, morboque immersus aquoso Qui fuit, ut laetus nunc micat atque levis: Quippe in vina iterum Christus, puto, transtulit undas; Et nunc iste suis ebrius est ab aquis.
Himself is his own sea; Dropsy his malady In sad severity.
But Christ the Lord he sees, Who touching him him frees; Now joyous and at ease.
Again, as I opine, The Lord transmutes to wine By miracle divine;
And now, still more and more, His own wine-water store Pours mirth at ev'ry pore. G.
_Non erat iis in diversorio locus._ Luc. ii. 7.
Illi non locus est? Illum ergo pellitis? Illum? Ille Deus, quem sic pellitis; ille Deus. O furor! humani miracula saeva furoris! Illi non locus est, quo sine nec locus est.
No place for Him! So Him you drive away; You drive away your God, your God. O, stay! O height of human madness! wonders rare! No place for Him! without Whom no place were. G.
_In lacrymas Lazari spretas a Divite._ Luc. xvi.
Felix, ô, lacrymis, ô Lazare, ditior istis, Quam qui purpureas it gravis inter opes: Illum cum rutili nova purpura vestiet ignis, Ille tuas lacrymas quam volet esse suas.
Rich Lazarus, richer in those gems, thy teares, Than Dives in the roabes he weares: He scornes them now; but, O, they'l suit full well With th' purple he must weare in Hell! CR.
O happy Lazarus! richer in thy tears Than he who midst his riches purple wears. Hell's purple flames red-glowing shall be his: Ah, then how shall he count thy tears a bliss!
_Indignatur Caiphas Christo se confitenti._ Matt. xxvi. 65.
Tu Christum, Christum quod non negat esse lacessis: Ipsius hoc crimen, quod fuit ipse, fuit. Tene Sacerdotem credam? Novus ille Sacerdos Per quem impune Deo non licet esse Deum.
_Caiphas angry that Christ confesses He is the Christ._
Wroth that The Christ confesseth Christ He is! His fault that He is but Himself, I wis. Thee shall I reckon priest? Strange priest is he Who leaves not God His own Divinity! G.