Lines.

Unthinking, idle, wild, and young,

I laughed and danced, and talked and sung;
And fond of health, of freedom vain,
Dreamed not of sorrow, care, or pain;
Concluding in those hours of glee
That all the world was made for me.

But when the hour of trial came,

And sickness shook this trembling frame;
When folly's gay pursuits were o'er,
And I could dance or sing no more;
It then occurred, how sad 'twould be,
Were this world only made for me.

PRINCESS AMELIA OF ENGLAND.

Sweet are the uses of Adversity.

I have been honoured and obeyed,
I have met scorn and slight;
And my heart loves earth's sober shade
More than her laughing light.

For what is rule but a sad weight

Of duty, and a snare?

What meanness, but with happier fate

The Saviour's cross to share?

This my hid choice, though not from heaven, Moves on the heavenward line;

Cleanse it, good Lord, from sinful leaven,

And make it simply thine.

LYRA APOSTOLICA.

Mutata Sententia.

Inconstans, hilaris, procax, vacabam
Choris, cantubus, omnibus cachinnis.
Libertatis amans, vigore laeta, et
Maerori medium nigrisqve curis
Ostentans digitum, superba dixi:
Haec est tota mihi creata tellus.

Sed qvom maestior ingruebat hora,
Qvom morbus tremulos gravabat artus,
Nec vano poteram vacare ludo,

Nec cantus renovare nec choreas,

Tum dixi fore triste, si creatum

Nil esset mihi, ni caduca tellus.

K.

Res Adversae.

Imperio qvondam, qvondam dignatus honore,
Mox idem opprobrio ludibrioqve fui:
Seriaqve in terris potior mihi vesperis umbra est
Qvam liqvida ridens ebria luce dies.
Qvid regnare tulit nisi pondus triste laboris
Retiaqve occultis insidiosa dolis?

Et qvid pauperies? Christi suspiria, Christi
Sortiri luctu cum leviore crucem.

Haec igitur, si non caelo demissa, voluntas

Me tamen haud dubia ducit ad astra via. Hanc tu labe, Deus, turpiqve adspergine purga, Et tibi qvae placeant omnia velle iube.

K.

Psalm cxxxix. 1-7.

O Lord, thou hast searched me out, and known me:
Thou knowest my down-sitting and mine up-rising;
Thou understandest my thoughts long before.
Thou art about my path and about my bed,

And spiest out all my ways.

For lo there is not a word in my tongue,

But thou, O Lord, knowest it altogether.

Thou hast fashioned me behind and before,

And laid thine hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me:
I cannot attain unto it.

Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit,
Or whither shall I go from thy presence?
If I climb up into heaven, thou art there:
If I go down to hell, thou art there also.

Grace.

The misty clouds that fall sometime

And overcast the skies

Are like to troubles of our time,
Which do but dim our eyes.

But as such dews are dried up quite
When Phoebus shews his face,
So are sad fancies put to flight
When God doth guide by grace.

GASCOIGNE.

Praesens Deus.

Ὦ Κύρι', οἶσθά μ' ἐξερευνήσας τορῶς,
εὐνῆς τ' ἐπαντέλλοντα κἀπιδέμνιον

πίτνονθ ̓ ὁμοίως ἐννοεῖ μ'· ἃ δ ̓ ἂν φρονῶ,
καὶ πρὶν φρονεῖν με προὐξεπίστασαι πάλαι.
σὺ δ ̓ ἀμφὶ μὲν πόδ', ἀμφὶ δ ̓ εὐναστήριον
ἀεὶ πάρει μοι, πάντας ἐξιχνοσκοπῶν
τρόπους· ἐπεί τοι κοὐ διὰ γλώσσης ἔχω
οὐδέν τι φωνεῖν, μὴ οὐ σάφ ̓ εἰδότος σέθεν.
σύ τοι δέμας μου τά τ' ὀπίσω ξυνήρμοσας
καὶ τἀπίπροσθεν, ἐπιβαλὼν σὴν δεξιάν.
τοιαῦτ ̓ ἐμοὶ σοφώτερ ̓ ἢ ξυνιέναι,
γνώμην ὑπερβάλλοντα. ποῖ μὲν γὰρ λάθω
σὸν πνεῦμα, ποῖ δὲ σὴν παρουσίαν ἰών;
πτηνὸν γὰρ ἄρας σῶμ ̓ ἐς αἰθέρος βάθη
ὁρῶ σ ̓ ἐκεῖ παρόντα, καὶ κατὰ χθονὸς
μολὼν ὁρῶ σ ̓ ἐνόντα κὰν Αιδου δόμοις.

Gratia Caeli.

Ut poli qvondam nebulae serenos
Obruunt risus, ita damna vitae
Saepe ridentes oculos obortis.
Nubibus umbrant.

Utqve siccati fugiunt vapores
Aureum Phoebo referente vultum,
Sic obumbrantes fugat alma curas
Gratia caeli.

T. S. E.

Κ.

All Things are Vanity.

When mirth is full and free,

Some sudden gloom will be:
When haughty power mounts high,
The watcher's axe is nigh.

All growth has bound; when greatest found,
It hastes to die.

Bright tints that shine are but the sign
Of summer past.

When, too, thine eye surveys

With fond adoring gaze

And yearning heart thy friend,
Love to its grave doth tend.

All gifts below, save faith, but grow
Towards an end.

LYRA APOSTOLICA.