[A Latin poem by THOMAS OF CELANO (a Neapolitan village), about A. D. 1250. Perhaps no poem has been more frequently translated. A German collector published eighty-seven versions in German. Dr. Coles, of Newark, N. J., has made thirteen. Seven are given in the "Seven Great Hymns of the Mediaeval Church," Randolph & Co., N. Y. The version here given preserves the measure of the original.] Death and Nature, mazed, are quaking, On the written Volume's pages, Sits the Judge, the raised arraigning, What shall I then say, unfriended, King of majesty tremendous, Holy JESUS, meek, forbearing, Worn and weary, thou hast sought me ; Righteous Judge of retribution, As a guilty culprit groaning, Thou to Mary gav'st remission, In my prayers no grace discerning, Give me, when thy sheep confiding When the wicked are confounded, Prostrate, all my guilt discerning, Day of weeping, when from ashes JOHN A. DIX. STABAT MATER DOLOROSA. [A Latin poem, written in the thirteenth century by JACOPONE, a Franciscan friar, of Umbria. Of this and the two preceding poems Dr. Neale says: "The De Contemptu is the most lovely, the Dies Ira the most sublime, and the Stabat Mater the most pathetic, of medieval poems."] STOOD the afflicted mother weeping, Near the cross her station keeping Whereon hung her Son and Lord; Through whose spirit sympathizing, Sorrowing and agonizing, Also passed the cruel sword. Oh! how mournful and distressed Who the man, who, called a brother, Would not weep, saw he Christ's mother In such deep distress and wild? Who could not sad tribute render Witnessing that mother tender Agonizing with her child? For his people's sins atoning, Yield his spirit up to God. Make me feel thy sorrow's power, Holy mother, this be granted, Firmly in my heart to bide. Of him wounded, all astounded All the pangs with me divide. Make me weep with thee in union; In his grief and suffering give; Maid of maidens, all excelling! Make thou me a mourner too; |