Εἶς μὲν ἐγὼ, ᾗ μοῦ πλάνη περιῆγεν, ἄλημι· Εἶς δέ τοι σῶς ἔσομαι γηθοσύναι πλέονες. Ἀμνὸς ὁ μὴ ποιῶν φόβον οὐ ποιεῖ δέ τε χάρμα. Μεὶζων τῶν μὲν, ἐμοῦ χρεία δὲ γλυκυτέρη. _What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, &c._ O might I fire the angel-bands with joy, Thy seeking steps o'er anxious plains employ! A thousand lambs on the safe mountains play; All Thine they are, Thou certainly canst say. The one that err'd and stray'd behold in me; Be I the one to bring more joy to Thee! They give no joy who never caus'd a fear; Dangers themselves, o'ercome, the more endear. Of those retain'd, more wide be the employment; Of me recover'd, sweeter the enjoyment. R. WI. CLXXXI. _Herodi D. Jacobum obtruncanti._ Act. xii. 2. Nescis Jacobus quantum hunc tibi debeat ictum, Quaeque tua in sacrum saeviat ira caput. Scilicet ipso illi donasti hoc ense coronam, Quo sacrum abscideras scilicet ense caput. Abscissum pensare caput quae possit abunde, Sola haec tam saeva et sacra corona fuit. Ἐν μὲν, Ἰάκωβε, κεφαλήν τοι ξίφος ἀπῇρεν, Ἓν τόδε καὶ στέφανον ξίφος ἔδωκε τεόν. Μοῦνον ἀμείβεσθαι κεφαλὴν, Ἰάκωβε, δύναιτο, Κεῖνος ὃδ' ὡς καλὸς μαρτυρίου στέφανος. _To Herod beheading St. James._ Know'st not how much James owes thee for this stroke, Or how on his blest head thine anger broke. Lo, to himself a crown thou dost accord Forsooth with that selfsame beheading sword. Only this sacred sanguinary crown That sunder'd head was able to weigh down. R. WI. CLXXXII. _Caeci receptis oculis Christum sequuntur._ Matt. xx. 34. Ecce manu imposita Christus nova sidera ponit: Sectantur patriam sidera fida manum. Haec manus his, credo, coelum est: haec scilicet astra Suspicor esse olim quae geret ille manu.[87] Χεὶρ ἐπιβαλλομένη Χριστοῦ ἐπέβαλλεν ὀπωπῶν Ἄστρα· ὀπηδεύει κεῖνά γε χειρὶ Θεοῦ. Χεὶρ αὓτη τούτοις πέλεν οὐρανός. ἄστρα γὰρ οἶμαι Ἐν χερὶ ταῦτ' οἴσει Χριστὸς ἔπειτα ἑῇ. _The blind men having received their sight follow Christ._ See Christ with outstretcht hand new stars create, Which on that hand with due observance wait. That hand, sure, is their heaven: these stars are they Which He will hold in His right hand one day. R. WI. CLXXXIII. _Zachaeus in sycomoro._ Luc. xix. 4. Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor? Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis? Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto, Mox e divina Vite racemus erit. Τίπτ' ἐπικομπάζεις κενεὸν ξείνῳ δέ τε καρπῷ, Καὶ φύλλοις σεμνὴ μὴ, συκόμωρε, τεοῖς; Καὶ γὰρ ὅδ' ἐκκρήμνης σοῦ νῦν μετέωρος ἀπ' ἔρνους, Ἀμπέλου ὁ κλαδὼν ἔσσεται οὐρανίου. _Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree._