Shall He, then, be a Lamb, to go Forth against such various foe? Lions ravenous, great of jaw; Wolves in vast herds, of mighty paw; Pards vengeful, prowling out and in-- Frightful, num'rous as my sin-- Awful of face, and gaunt and grim, Merciless to mangle limb by limb. Ah, goest Thou, gentle One, 'gainst these? And does terror upon Thee seize? O how unequal is the strife, And the prey so grand a life! With such as these to fight art fated? Nor in arms nor passion mated. G. XXIX. _Pisces multiplicati._ Joan. xxi. 11. Quae secreta meant taciti tibi retia verbi, Queis non tam pisces quam capis Oceanum? _The miraculous draught of fishes._ What nets, hid in Thy silent word, Passest Thou on; By which not fish Thou takest, Lord, But the Ocean? G. XXX. _Domine, non solum pedes, sed et caput, &c._ Joan. xiii. 9. En caput, atque suis quae plus satis ora laborant Sordibus; huc fluvios, ais [et] adde tuos. Nil opus est; namque haec, modo tertius occinat ales, E fluviis fuerint, Petre, lavanda suis. _Lord, not my feet only, but also my head, &c._ 'Behold my head, behold my face, Which sin's filthiest stains deface: Here pour Thy streams:' thou say'st to Me. But, Peter, needs not this for thee; For ere the cock a third time crow, Rivers of its own tears must flow. G. XXXI. _Cum tot signa edidisset, non credebant._ Joan. xii. 37. Quanta amor ille tuus se cunque levaverit ala, Quo tua cunque opere effloruit alta manus; Mundus adest, contraque tonat, signisque reponit Signa, adeo sua sunt numina vel sceleri, Imo, ô nec nimii vis sit temeraria verbi, Ille uno sensu vel tua cuncta premit. Tot tantisque tuis mirac'lum hoc objicit unum, Tot tantisque tuis non adhibere fidem. _Though they beheld so many miracles, they believed not._ However high in Thy great love Thou wingest, And whatsoe'er within Thy hand Thou bringest, Against Thee, with its thunders, stands the world, Sign answering sign; Sin's banners all unfurl'd. Nay--and let not the bold rash word appal-- One thought o' the world makes all Thy wonders fall: Against Thy mightiest signs this one it wields-- To the vast whole of Thine, no faith it yields. G. XXXII. _In nubem, quae Dominum abstulit._ Act. i. 9. O nigra haec! quid enim mihi candida pectora monstrat, Pectora cygneis candidiora genis? Sit vero magis alba, suo magis aurea Phoebo, Quantumcunque sibi candida; nigra mihi est. Nigra mihi nubes! et qua neque nigrior Austros, Vel tulit irati nuntia tela Dei. Nigra! licet nimbos, noctem neque detulit ullam. Si noctem non fert, at rapit, ecce, diem. _On the cloud which received the Lord._