Cur cupis hic adeo, dormitor Petre, manere? Somnia non alibi tam bona, Petre, vides. _It is good to be here._ Why seek'st thou, drowsy Peter, here to stay? Elsewhere such pleasant dreams thou see'st not, eh?[88] G. VIII. _Videte lilia agrorum ... nec Salomon, &c._ Matt. vi. 29. Candide rex campi, cui floris eburnea pompa est, Deque nivis fragili vellere longa toga; Purpureus Salomon impar tibi dicitur esto. Nempe, quod est melius, par fuit ille rosis. _Look on the lilies of the field ... not Solomon, &c._ O fairest monarch of the enamell'd field, Whose is the blossom'd pomp of ivory splendour, And whose the fleeces, snowy-white, which yield Long-flowing robes immaculate and tender. Ah, not like lilies--'tis divinely spoken-- Was Solomon, with sin encrimsonèd; But not unlike--and 'tis a better token-- Roses tear-wash'd, which hang the blushing head. R. WI. IX. Marc. vii. 33, 36. Voce manuque simul linguae tu, Christe, ciendae: Sistendae nudis vocibus usus eras. Sane at lingua equus est pronis effusus habenis: Vox ciet, at sistit non nisi tota manus. _The deaf healed._ To wake the tongue--voice, hand too, Christ would use; To check it, but a bare word of command. Really, the tongue is as a horse rein'd-loose-- Starts at a word, stay'd only with strong hand. R. WI. X. _In beatae Virginis verecundiam._ Non est hoc matris, sed, crede, modestia nati, Quod virgo in gremium dejicit ora suum. Illic jam Deus est, oculus jam Virginis ergo, Ut coelum videat, dejiciendus erit. _The modesty of the blessed Virgin._ Not humbleness of mother, but of Child, Shines in the downward gaze of Virgin mild. The Virgin gazes where her God doth lie: She must look down that Heaven may meet her eye. G. XI. _Mitto vos sicut agnos in medio luporum._ Hos quoque, an hos igitur saevi lacerabitis agnos? Hic saltem, hic vobis non licet esse lupis. At sceleris nulla est clementia, at ergo scietis, Agnus qui nunc est, est aliquando Leo. _I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves._ These lambs also, e'en these, will ye, then, fiercely tear? Here to be wolves, at least here, ye will never dare. Alas, the wicked still are cruel; but ye'll learn He Who is now a Lamb will one day Lion turn. G. XII. _Christus a daemone vectus._ Matt. iv. Ergo ille, angelicis ô sarcina dignior alis, Praepete sic Stygio, sic volet ille vehi. Pessime! nec laetare tamen tu scilicet inde, Non minus es daemon, non minus ille Deus. _Christ carried by the devil._ Will He--O burden worthier angels' wings!-- Deign to be carried by swift fiend of hell? Vilest! to thee this no advancement brings; He no less God, thou no less demon fell. G. XIII. Joan. i. 23.