_The Child Jesus among the doctors._ To weigh a man by bearded chin is vain, As if smooth cheeks no wisdom could contain. Forsooth the beard is a poor gauge of wit; With mental winter snowy head may fit. Hear what wise words from a Child-teacher fall, Nor think a hoary head the head of all. R. WI. CLVII. _Ad Christum, de aqua in vinum versa._ Joan. ii. 1-11. Signa tuis tuus hostis habet contraria signis: In vinum tristes tu mihi vertis aquas. Ille autem e vino lacrymas et jurgia ducens, Vina iterum in tristes, hei mihi! mutat aquas. _To our Lord, upon the water made wine._ Thou water turn'st to wine, faire friend of life; Thy foe, to crosse the sweet arts of Thy reigne, Distills from thence the teares of wrath and strife, And so turnes wine to water backe againe. CR. ANOTHER VERSION. Blessing's in Thy every sign, But the Tempter each pollutes: Thou the water makest wine, He the wine to woe transmutes. G. CLVIII. _Christus infans Patri sistitur in templo._ Luc. ii. 22-33. Agnus eat ludatque, licet, sub patre petulco; Cumque sua longum conjuge turtur agat. Conciliatorem nihil hic opus ire per agnum, Nec tener ut volucris non sua fata ferat. Hactenus exigua haec, quasi munera, lusimus; haec quae Multum excusanti sunt capienda manu. Hoc donum est; de quo, toto tibi dicimus ore, Sume, Pater: meritis hoc tibi sume suis. Donum hoc est, hoc est; quod scilicet audeat ipso Esse Deo dignum: scilicet ipse Deus. _The Infant Christ is presented to the Father in the temple._ Let the lamb go, by hornèd sire to play; The turtle, with its mate, flee far away: No need is here of lamb to mediate, Or tender bird to bear another's fate. At those poor offerings once, as 'twere, we play'd, Receiv'd by One who much allowance made. This is a gift the full-voic'd boast to wake, 'Take it, O Father, on its merits take.' A gift, a gift this is, which need not fear Being fit for God, since God Himself is here. R. WI. CLIX. _Leprosus Dominum implorans._ Matt. viii. 2. Credo quod ista potes, velles modo: sed quia credo, Christe, quod ista potes, credo quod ista voles. Tu modo, tu faciles mihi, sol meus, exere vultus; Non poterit radios nix mea ferre tuos.[82] _The leper beseeching._ I believe, Lord, Thou'rt able if Thou'rt willing, And I believe Thou'rt willing as Thou'rt able. Shine on me, O my Sun: Thy rays distilling, Shall melt my snow, and give me healing stable. G. CLX. _Christus in tempestate._ Matt. viii. 23-27. Quod fervet tanto circum te, Christe, tumultu, Non hoc ira maris, Christe, sed ambitio est. Haec illa ambitio est, hoc tanto te rogat ore, Possit ut ad monitus, Christe, tacere tuos. _Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?_