CHAP. XX

AN HYMN ON THE AFORESAID HOLY VIRGIN

I THINK it proper to insert in this history a hymn of virginity, which I composed in elegiac verse several years ago, in praise and honour of the same queen and spouse of Christ; and therefore truly a queen, because the spouse of Christ; and to imitate the method of the Holy Scripture, in whose history many poetical pieces are inserted which are known to be composed in metre.

Hail, triune power, who rulest every age,

Assist the numbers which my pen engage.

Let Maro wars in loftier numbers sing,

I sound the praises of our heavenly King.

Chaste is my verse, nor Helen’s rape I write;

Light tales like these, but prove the mind as light.

See! from on high the God descends, confined

In Mary’s womb, to rescue lost mankind.

Behold! a spotless maid a God brings forth,

A God is born, who gave e’en nature birth!

The virgin-choir the mother-maid resound,

And chaste themselves, her praises shout around.

Her bright example numerous vot’ries raise,

Tread spotless paths, and imitate her ways.

The blessed Agatha and Eulalia trust

Sooner to flames, than far more dangerous lust.

Tecla and chaste Euphemia overcame

The fear of beasts to save a virgin name.

Agnes and sweet Cecilia, joyful maids,

Smile while the pointed sword their breasts invades.

Triumphing joy attends the peaceful soul,

Where heat, nor rain, nor wishes mean control.

Thus Etheldrida, pure from sensual crime,

Bright shining star! arose to bless our time.

Born of a regal race, her sire a king,

More noble honour to her lord shall bring.

A queen her name, her hand a sceptre rears,

But greater glories wait above the spheres.

What man wouldst thou desire? See Christ is made

Her spouse, her bless’d Redeemer weds the maid.

While you attend the heavenly Mother’s train,

Thou shalt be mother of a heavenly reign.

The holy maid who twelve years sat a queen,

A cloister’d nun devote to God was seen.

Noted for pious deeds, her spotless soul

Left the vile world, and soar’d above the pole.

Sixteen Novembers since was the blest maid

Entomb’d, whose flesh no putrid damps invade.

Thy grace, O Christ! for in the coffin’s found

No tainted vest wrapping the corpse around.

The swelling dropsy, and dire atrophy,

A pale disease from the blest vestments fly.

Rage fires the fiend, who whilome Eve betray’d,

While shouting angels hail the glorious maid.

See! wedded to her God, what joy remains,

In earth, or heaven, see! with her God she reigns!

Behold! the spouse, the festal torches shine,

He comes! behold! what joyful gifts are thine!

Thou a new song on the sweet harp shalt sing,

A hymn of praise to thy celestial King.

None from the flock of the throned Lamb shall move,

Whom grateful passion bind, and heavenly love.