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SEVEN GREAT HYMNS 
 
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 The White House. 
 
Seven Great Hymns 
 
 By GUY CARLETON LEE 
 
 Reprinted from THE BALTIMORE SUN, by permis- 
 sion of The A. S. Abell Co. 
 
 BALTIMORE 
 
 Clemmitt— Printer, No. 4 E. Lombard Street 
 
 1916 
 

 Feeling myself deeply indebted to 
 
 B. A. ABBOTT 
 
 for much of the inspiration that has led me to 
 
 love and appreciate "the true, the beautiful, 
 
 and the good," I take pleasure in 
 
 dedicating this reprint to him. 
 
 Thos. Clem mitt, Jr. 
 
THESE Articles, by Dr. Lee, were printed, 
 during the Lenten Season of 1905, in 
 the very interesting Literary Department of 
 The Baltimore Sun, conducted by him at 
 that time. I enjoyed them very much, feel- 
 ing that they were an expression of the state 
 of the public mind, chastened, as it was, by 
 the great fire of the year before. I was 
 surprised, however, upon speaking of them 
 to others, to find that they seemed to have 
 attracted no attention whatever. This, also, 
 I attributed to the fire, — everybody being 
 then engrossed in the work and worry of 
 rebuilding. So I clipped them out of the 
 paper, and laid them aside, in the hope that 
 I might sometime find a way to bring them 
 before the few who would appreciate them. 
 I now send them out, without comment, as 
 a Christmas Souvenir, to a few friends and 
 personal acquaintances, and to some others 
 whom I know only by name, with the wish 
 that they may be interesting and helpful. 
 
 Thos. Clemmitt, Jr. 
 Christmas, 1916. 
 
Dies Irae Page 13 
 
 De Contemptu Mundi "25 
 
 The Stabat Mater "49 
 
 The Vexilla Regis "65 
 
 Veni Sancte Spiritus 
 
 79 
 Veni Creator Spiritus 
 
 Te Deum Laudamus "95 
 
 Cantemus Cuncti " 109 
 
FOREWORD. 
 
 THE world has many thousand hymns, 
 and of these a score are of such a 
 character as to deserve rank as the great 
 hymns of universal literature. In this sea- 
 son of Lent — a season which is each year 
 more widely observed by those who pro- 
 fess and call themselves Christians — a pre- 
 sensation of the greatest of the hymns of the 
 Christian Church is appropriate. This not 
 only for their religious significance, but 
 because of their literary value ; an attribute 
 too often lost sight of by the general reader, 
 who does not appreciate the fact that a 
 knowledge of the masterpieces of hymno- 
 graphy is as essential to a broad literary 
 education as a knowledge of the master- 
 pieces of short-story composition. Were 
 we obliged to search the treasures of the 
 various hymnodies, the task of selecting the 
 seven great hymns — one for each Wednes- 
 day in Lent — would be appalling, and years 
 might well be occupied in the task ; but> 
 fortunately, the responsibility of selection 
 and the labor of appraisement has been 
 
io Seven Great Hymns 
 
 lightened, for the concensus of critical opin- 
 ion has distinguished a bare score of hymns 
 as pre-eminently worthy of the first rank, 
 and from these jewels of hymnography we 
 choose the seven that to us most strongly 
 appeal. 
 
 There is a vast literature in the field of 
 hymnology. The hymnodies of the world, 
 appealing as they do to both sentiment and 
 intellect, have engrossed the thought of 
 many scholars. We may not today discuss 
 the periods of production, nor present even 
 a sketch of the various stages of religious 
 development by which have been produced 
 the hymns that have won an abiding place 
 in the hearts of the people. There was a 
 classical period, both Roman and Hellenic, 
 which antedated the era of the Hebrew 
 hymnody. There may be defined an Eastern 
 as well as a Western hymnody, and sub- 
 divisions : German, Franch and British may 
 as readily be made as Catholic, Lutheran, 
 Episcopalian or Dissenting. But the study 
 of hymnodies in their creative and forma- 
 tive phases must be postponed for another 
 year, and the present series rigidly confined 
 to this subject — Seven Great Hymns. 
 
I. 
 
 dies ir;e. 
 
DIES IR7E. 
 
 HEN a lad, our favorite poet was Sir 
 Walter Scott, and we heartily agree 
 with Goodwin Smith, in his present contro- 
 versy with Sir Arthur Symons, that the 
 appeal of Scott was the most powerful of 
 the poetical influences which literature con- 
 tained for the youth of the third quarter of 
 the nineteenth century. Of Scott's poetry 
 there are stanzas which insistently press 
 upon our memory, and among them is this 
 from The Lay of the Last Minstrel : 
 
 The Mass was sung, and prayers were said, 
 And solemn requiem for the dead ; 
 And bells toll'd out their mighty peal 
 For the departed spirits' weal ; 
 And ever in the office close 
 The hymn of intercession rose ; 
 And far the echoing aisles prolong 
 The awful burden of the song — 
 
 Dies Irae, Dies Ilia ! 
 
 Solvet saeclum in favilla. 
 
 Throughout boyhood, youth and manhood 
 these lines have been before us, and the 
 
14 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 awful majesty of the Dies Irce has been 
 ever the most impressive of poetical forces. 
 Well may it be, for by universal opinion 
 the Dies Irce is the greatest of the hymns 
 of the Christian Church. It is so regarded 
 by all denominations, and may be used in 
 any sect with the same fitness as by the 
 church which gave it to the world. Its in- 
 fluence has been incalculable and has not 
 been limited by country or creed. 
 
 The seventeenth century saw, in 163 1, the 
 completion, by Pope Urban VIII, of the 
 hymnal which is today the accepted version 
 of the Roman communion. The labors of 
 the editors during various pontificates had 
 resulted in the recasting of many hymns, 
 and through this revision we have lost the 
 original versions of not a few of the hymns 
 of the classical period, but, fortunately, one 
 of the hymns which escaped the hands of 
 the revisers was the Dies Irce. It was in 
 the thirteenth century, some put the date at 
 1250, when a Franciscan, Thomas of Ce- 
 lano, best known as the friend and biog- 
 rapher of St. Francis de Assisi, impressed 
 by the lines in Zephaniah I, 15 (Vulgate), 
 wrote the hymn Dies Irce, of which it has 
 
Dies Irm 15 
 
 been said by the learned author of Christ 
 in Song: "The secret of the irresistible 
 power of the Dies Irce lies in the awful 
 grandeur of the theme, the intense earnest- 
 ness and pathos of the poet, the simple 
 majesty and solemn music of its language, 
 the stately meter, the triple rhyme and the 
 vowel assonances chosen in striking adapta- 
 tion to the sense — all combining to produce 
 an overwhelming effect, as if we heard the 
 final crash of the universe, the commotion 
 of the opening graves, the trumpet of the 
 archangel that summons the 'quick and the 
 dead,' and as if we saw the King of Tre- 
 mendous Majesty seated on the throne of 
 justice and mercy and ready to dispense 
 everlasting life or everlasting woe/ 5 
 
 There are several versions of the hymn, 
 and many translations. The version known 
 as that of Paris is that generally accepted. 
 The hymn has received many additions dur- 
 ing the seven centuries of its use, but it has 
 not retained them, and we have it today in 
 its original form. Translations into English 
 abound, and of these the more acceptable 
 are by Irons, French, Cole and Dix, and of 
 these the best is perhaps that of Irons, 
 
1 6 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 although to the layman the most effective 
 rendering, although it is a paraphrase and 
 not a translation, is that of Sir Walter 
 Scott, which is as follows : 
 
 That day of wrath, that dreadful day ! 
 When heaven and earth shall pass away. 
 What power shall be the sinner's stay? 
 How shall he meet that dreadful day? 
 
 When shriveling like a parched scroll 
 The flaming heavens together roll. 
 When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
 Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! 
 
 Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day 
 When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
 Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay, 
 Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 
 
 The translators of the poem have greatly 
 differed in their renderings. For example, 
 the original of Thomas of Celano is : 
 
 Dies Irae, Dies Ilia ! 
 Solvet saechim in favilla, 
 Teste David cum Sybilla. 
 
 This was translated by Coles : 
 
Dies Irje ly 
 
 Day of wrath, that day of burning! 
 Seer and Sibyl speak concerning — 
 All the world to ashes turning. 
 
 Johnson wrote : 
 
 Day of wrath, that day of burning! 
 Earth shall end, to ashes turning; 
 Thus sing Saint and Seer discerning. 
 
 Roscommon has it : 
 
 The day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
 Shall the whole world in ashes lay, 
 As David and the Sibyls say. 
 
 Crawshaw rendered it as : 
 
 Hear'st thou, my soul, what serious things 
 Both the Psalm and Sibyl sings, 
 Of a sure Judge, from whose sharp ray, 
 The world in flames shall fly away. 
 
 Iron's version is : 
 
 Day of wrath! Oh, day of mourning! 
 See ! once more the Cross returning, 
 Heaven and earth in ashes burning! 
 
 Slosson makes the Latin read : 
 
1 8 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Day of wrath! Of days that day! 
 Earth in flames shall melt away, 
 Psalmist thus and Sibyl say. 
 
 Dix has it : 
 
 Day of vengeance, without morrow ! 
 Earth shall end in flame and sorrow, 
 As from Saint and Seer we borrow. 
 
 Macaulay translated it thus : 
 
 On that great, that awful day, 
 This vain world shall pass away. 
 Thus the Sibyl sang of old, 
 Thus hath holy David told. 
 
 These translations show the difficulty of 
 the task of rendering the Dies Irce into 
 English. The form of the Latin verse, when 
 cast into English words and rhymes, is for- 
 eign to our ears. We are unable to satisfac- 
 torily render the double rhyme, and this 
 ''majestic and solitary" hymn, which has 
 sounded "so clear and deep that its softest 
 tones are heard throughout Christendom," 
 must be read in the original if all its im- 
 pressiveness is to be appreciated. But as 
 to most readers a knowledge of Latin is 
 
Dies Ir.e 19 
 
 denied, we append the complete text of Dr. 
 Iron's version, and doing so we regret that 
 it seems inexpedient to print the far more 
 effective Latin text of Thomas of Celano, 
 whose majestic lines have, in their sonorous 
 grandeur, sounded through the centuries 
 wherever the religion of Christ has found 
 a foothold. 
 
 Day of Wrath ! O Day of Mourning ! 
 See ! once more the Cross returning, 
 Heav'n and earth in ashes burning! 
 
 O what fear man's bosom rendeth, 
 When from Heav'n the Judge descendeth, 
 On whose sentence all dependeth ! 
 
 Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth, 
 Through earth's sepulchers it ringeth, 
 All before the throne it bringeth ! 
 
 Death is struck, and nature quaking, 
 
 All creation is awaking, 
 
 To it's Judge an answer making ! 
 
 Lo, the Book, exactly worded ! 
 Wherein all hath been recorded; 
 Thence shall judgment be awarded. 
 
 When the Judge His seat attaineth, 
 And each hidden deed arraigneth, 
 Nothing unaveng'd remaineth. 
 
20 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 What shall I, frail man, be pleading, 
 Who for me be interceding, 
 When the just are mercy needing? 
 
 King of majesty tremendous, 
 Who dost free salvation send us, 
 Fount of pity ! then befriend us ! 
 
 Think ! Kind Jesu, my salvation, 
 Caus'd Thy wondrous Incarnation ; 
 Leave me not to reprobation ! 
 
 Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, 
 On the Cross of suffering bought me ; 
 Shall such grace be vainly brought me? 
 
 Righteous Judge of retribution, 
 
 Grant Thy gift of absolution, 
 
 Ere that reck'ning day's conclusion ! 
 
 Guilty, now I pour my moaning, 
 All my shame with anguish owning; 
 Spare, O God, Thy suppliant, groaning! 
 
 Thou, the sinful woman savest, 
 Thou, the dying thief forgavest; 
 And to me a hope vouchsafest ! 
 
 Worthless are my pray'rs and sighing, 
 Yet, good Lord, in grace complying, 
 Rescue me from fires undying! 
 
Dies Irje 21 
 
 With Thy favor'd sheep, place me, 
 Nor among the goats abase me; 
 But to Thy right hand upraise me. 
 
 While the wicked are confounded, 
 Doom'd to flames of woe unbounded, 
 Call me ! with Thy saints surrounded. 
 
 Low I kneel, with heart submission ; 
 See, like ashes, my contrition ; 
 Help me, in my last condition ! 
 
 Ah! that day of tears and mourning! 
 From the dust of earth returning, 
 Man for judgment must prepare him; 
 Spare ! O God, in mercy, spare him ! 
 
 Lord, who didst our souls redeem, 
 Grant a blessed Requiem ! Amen. 
 
II. 
 
 DE CONTEMPTU MUNDI. 
 
DE CONTEMPTU MUNDI. 
 
 gERNARD de MORLAS, a member of 
 the famous community of Cluny, and 
 of parentage now unascertainable, wrote in 
 the twelfth century a number of religious 
 poems, of which five survive. Of these the 
 most noteworthy is De Contemptu Mundi. 
 This poem, although in itself a satire of the 
 most scathing variety, contains the most 
 beautiful descriptions of Heaven that are to 
 be found in verse. This poem is not, as is 
 rightly pointed out by leading commenta- 
 tors, in itself a hymn, but it is, on the other 
 hand, in its translation, a casket of hymns. 
 Its verses have not only furnished inspira- 
 tion, but have given form to a score of the 
 hymn-writers whose work has won the ap- 
 plause of the world. No better example of 
 this can be cited than the words of Neale, 
 whose version we quote below. Dr. Neale 
 says : "It would be most unthankful did I 
 not express my gratitude to God for the 
 favor He has given some of the cantos 
 made from the poem, but especially Jeru- 
 
26 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 salem the Golden. It has found a place in 
 some twenty hymnals, and it is of almost 
 universal use on religious occasions to which 
 it is appropriate. We may add that it has 
 use in Catholic as well as Protestant serv- 
 ices. Trench, in his Sacred Latin Poetry, 
 gives De Contemptu Mundi such enthusi- 
 astic and yet discriminating praise that to 
 him must be ascribed the honor of having 
 introduced the work in its beauty to the 
 attention of the Protestant Church. 
 
 We may say, however, that the poem had, 
 because of its satirical quality, been since 
 1483, the date of its publication at Paris, a 
 favorite weapon for those whose religious 
 activity led to virulent attacks upon Rome. 
 But we may in these days read the work for 
 its profound piety, for its ecstatic fervor, 
 and for its unalloyed devotion; for it has 
 been rightly said "De Contemptu Mundi is 
 the most lovely, in the same way that the 
 Dies Irce is the most sublime, and the Stabat 
 Mater the most pathetic of mediaeval 
 poems." 
 
 "De Contemptu Mundi/' in its original 
 Latin, is; a masterpiece of dactylic composi- 
 tion. It is well nigh untransferable to Eng- 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 27 
 
 lish. Numerous attempts at literal transla- 
 tion have had but indifferent results. It has 
 remained for a distinguished Protestant 
 translator of mediaeval poetry to give to the 
 words of the Cluniac the rendering that has 
 won the heart of the world. Dr. John 
 Mason Neale, of England, he whom Nott, 
 contrasting him with Bernard, aptly calls 
 "the scholar of Cambridge," seems in his 
 paraphrase of the 4,000 lines of Bernard to 
 have accomplished his greatest success in 
 the setting over of Latin hymns into Eng- 
 lish. Discarding all those satirical elements 
 which, without doubt, were considered at 
 the time of the production of the poem as 
 its chief merit, Dr. Neale has preserved 
 those wonderful descriptions of Heaven 
 which to the devout immortalize Bernard's 
 work. The translator has in no wise striven 
 to follow the meter of the original. In thus 
 breaking away from the limitations of form, 
 Dr. Neale has cast aside the fetters that 
 have prevented the free expression of the 
 imagery that is the chief merit of the poem. 
 We may illustrate by quoting the opening 
 lines of Bernard: 
 
28 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Hora novissima, tempora pessima sunt, vigilemus, 
 Ecce minacetir imminet arbiter ille surpremus. 
 Imminet, imminet et mala terminet, sequa coronet, 
 Recta remuneret, anxia liberet, aethera donet, 
 Auserat aspera duraque pondera mentes onustse, 
 Sobria muniat, improba puniat, utraque juste. 
 
 These have been translated by Duffield, in 
 the measure of the original with the inter- 
 mediate dactylic rhymes and the final double 
 rhymes, in a literal rendering of the poem, 
 line for line and often word for word : 
 
 These are the latter times, these are not better 
 times, let us stand waiting; 
 
 Lo, how with awfulness He, first in lawfulness, 
 comes arbitrating ! 
 
 Nearer and nearer yet ! Wrong shall in terror 
 set, right shine refulgent. 
 
 Sad ones He liberates, righteous remunerates, 
 ever indulgent ; 
 
 Harshness He mitigates, burdened souls ani- 
 mates, freeing them lightly ; 
 
 Holy ones blesseth He, wicked distresseth He — 
 each alike rightly. 
 
 Charles C. Nott renders the same lines : 
 
 Hours of the latest ! times of the basest ! our 
 vigil before us ! 
 
 Judgment eternal of Being supernal now hang- 
 ing o'er us ! 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 29 
 
 Evil to terminate, equity vindicate, cometh the 
 
 Kingly ; 
 Righteousness seeing, anxious hearts freeing, 
 
 crowning each singly, 
 Bearing life's weariness, tasting life's bitterness, 
 
 life as it must be ; 
 Th' righteous retaining, sinners arraigning, 
 
 judging all justly. 
 
 These two translations, faithful as their 
 creators have striven to make them, seem 
 almost devoid, because of their mechanics, 
 of beauty. True, they are effective, but how 
 much less so than the rendering in the para- 
 phrase of De Contemptu Mandi, which 
 Neale has given us under the title of "The 
 Celestial Country." This paraphrase is of 
 the jewels of hymnology and as such we 
 present it. Its extreme length has caused 
 us embarrassment, but we deem it wise to 
 publish "The Celestial Country" in its en- 
 tirety, because any selection of stanzas, no 
 matter how carefully such selection be done, 
 would be more of mutilation than improve- 
 ment. The version employed is that of 
 Nott, and differs from the version in medi- 
 aeval hymns in the arrangement of stanzas 
 and punctuation. Three slight changes in 
 
30 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 text have also been made. The version is, 
 however, the most satisfactory one in Eng- 
 lish : 
 
 THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 
 
 The world is very evil, 
 
 The times are waxing late ; 
 Be sober and keep vigil, 
 
 The Judge is at the gate — 
 The Judge that comes in mercy, 
 
 The Judge that comes with might, 
 To terminate the evil, 
 
 To diadem the right. 
 When the just and gentle Monarch 
 
 Shall summon from the tomb, 
 Let man, the guilty, tremble, 
 
 For man, the God, shall doom ! 
 
 Arise, arise, good Christian, 
 
 Let right to wrong succeed; 
 Let penitential sorrow 
 
 To heavenly gladness lead — 
 To the light that hath no evening, 
 
 That knows no moon nor sun, 
 The light so new and golden, 
 
 The light that is but One. 
 
 And when the Sole-Begotten 
 
 Shall render up once more 
 The kingdom to the Father, 
 
 Whose own it was before, 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 31 
 
 Then glory yet unheard of 
 
 Shall shed abroad its ray, 
 Resolving all enigmas, 
 
 An endless Sabbath day. 
 
 Then, then from his oppressors 
 
 The Hebrew shall go free, 
 And celebrate in triumph 
 
 The year of Jubilee ; 
 And the sunlit Land that recks not 
 
 Of tempest nor of fight, 
 Shall fold within its bosom 
 
 Each happy Israelite — 
 The Home of fadeless splendor 
 
 Of flowers that fear no thorn, 
 Where they shall dwell as children. 
 
 Who here as exiles mourn. 
 
 Midst power that knows no limit, 
 
 And wisdom free from bound, 
 The Beatific Vision 
 
 Shall glad the saints around — 
 The peace of all the faithful, 
 
 The calm of all the blest, 
 Inviolate, unvaried, 
 
 Divinest, sweetest, best, 
 Yes, peace ! for war is needless — 
 
 Yes, calm ! for storm is past — 
 And goal from finished labor, 
 
 And anchorage at last. 
 
22 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 That peace — but who may claim it? 
 
 The guileless in their way, 
 Who keep the ranks of battle, 
 
 Who mean the thing they say — 
 The peace that is for heaven, 
 
 And shall be for the earth ; 
 The palace that re-echoes 
 
 With festal song and mirth ; 
 The garden, breathing spices, 
 
 The paradise on high ; 
 Grace beautified to glory, 
 
 Unceasing minstrelsy. 
 
 There nothing can be feeble, 
 
 There none can ever mourn, 
 There nothing is divided, 
 
 There nothing can be torn. 
 'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 
 
 'Tis peaceless peace below ; 
 Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, 
 
 The halls of Sion know. 
 
 O happy, holy portion, 
 
 Refection for the blest, 
 True vision of true beauty, 
 
 Sweet cure of all distrest ! 
 Strive, man, toi win that glory ; 
 
 Toil, man, to gain that light ; 
 Send hope before to grasp it, 
 
 Till hope be lost in sight ; 
 Till Jesus gives the portion 
 
 Those blessed souls to fill — 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 33 
 
 The insatiate, yet satisfied, 
 The full, yet craving still. 
 
 That fullness and that craving 
 
 Alike are free from pain, 
 Where thou, midst heavenly citizens, 
 
 A home like theirs shalt gain. 
 Here is the warlike trumpet ; 
 
 There, life set free from sin, 
 When to the last Great Supper, 
 
 The faithful shall come in ; 
 When the heavenly net is laden 
 
 With fishes many and great 
 (So glorious in its fullness, 
 
 Yet so inviolate) ; 
 And perfect from unperfected, 
 
 And fall'n from those that stand, 
 And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd 
 
 Shall part on either hand. 
 
 And these shall pass to torment, 
 
 And those shall triumph then — 
 The new peculiar nation, 
 
 Blest number of blest men. 
 Jerusalem demands them; 
 
 They paid the price on earth, 
 And now shall reap the harvest 
 
 In blissfulness and mirth — 
 The glorious, holy people, 
 
 Who evermore relied 
 Upon their Chief and Father, 
 
 The King, the Crucified — 
 
34 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 The sacred ransomed number 
 
 Now bright with endless sheen, 
 Who made the Cross their watchword 
 
 Of Jesus Nazarene, 
 Who (fed with heavenly nectar 
 
 Where soul-like odors play) 
 Draw out the endless leisure 
 
 Of that long, vernal day. 
 
 And, through the sacred lilies 
 
 And flowers on every side, 
 The happy dear-bought people 
 
 Go wandering far and wide; 
 Their breasts are filled with gladness, 
 
 Their mouths are tun'd to praise, 
 What time, now safe forever, 
 
 On former sins they gaze ; 
 The fouler was the error, 
 
 The sadder was the fall, 
 The ampler are the praises 
 
 Of Him who pardoned all. 
 
 Their one and only anthem, 
 
 The fulness of His love, 
 Who gives instead of torment, 
 
 Eternal joys above — 
 Instead of torment, glory ; 
 
 Instead of death, that life 
 Wherewith your happy Country, 
 
 True Israelites, is rife. 
 Brief life is here our portion, 
 
 Brief sorrow, short-liv'd care; 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 35 
 
 The life that knows no ending — 
 The tearless life, is there. 
 
 O happy retribution ! 
 
 Short toil, eternal rest ; 
 For mortals and for sinners 
 
 A mansion with the blest ! 
 That we should look, poor wand'rers, 
 
 To have our home on high ! 
 That worms should seek for dwelling, 
 
 Be3 T ond the starry sky ! 
 To all one happy guerdon 
 
 Of one celestial grace; 
 For all, for all, who mourn their fall, 
 
 Is one eternal place. 
 
 And martyrdom hath roses 
 
 Upon that heavenly ground ; 
 And white and virgin lilies 
 
 For virgin-souls abound. 
 There grief is turned to pleasure — 
 
 Such pleasure as below 
 No human voice can utter, 
 
 No human heart can know ; 
 And after fleshly scandal, 
 
 And after this world's night, 
 And after storm and whirlwind, 
 
 Is calm, and joy, and light. 
 
 And now we fight the battle, 
 
 But then shall wear the crown 
 Of full and everlasting 
 
 And passionless renown ; 
 
36 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 And now we watch and struggle, 
 
 And now we live in hope, 
 And Sion, in her anguish, 
 
 With Babylon must cope ; 
 But He whom now we trust in 
 
 Shall then be seen and known, 
 And they that know and see Him 
 
 Shall have Him for their own. 
 
 The miserable pleasures 
 
 Of the body shall decay ; 
 The bland and flattering struggles 
 
 Of the flesh shall pass away; 
 And none there shall be jealous, 
 
 And none shall there contend ; 
 Fraud, clamor, guile — what say I? 
 
 All ill, all ill shall end ! 
 
 And there is David's Fountain, 
 
 And life in fullest glow ; 
 And there the light is golden, 
 
 And milk and honey flow — 
 The light that hath no evening, 
 
 The health that hath no sore, 
 The life that hath no ending, 
 
 But lasteth evermore. 
 
 There Jesus shall embrace us, 
 There Jesus be embraced — 
 
 That spirit's food and sunshine 
 Whence earthly love is chased. 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 
 
 Amidst the happy chorus, 
 
 A place, however low, 
 Shall shew Him us, and, shewing, 
 
 Shall satiate evermore. 
 
 By hope we struggle onward ; 
 
 While here we must be fed 
 By milk, as tender infants, 
 
 But there by living Bread. 
 The night was full of terror, 
 
 The morn is bright with gladness ; 
 The Cross becomes our harbor, 
 
 And we triumph after sadness. 
 
 And Jesus to His true ones 
 
 Brings trophies fair to see ; 
 And Jesus shall be loved, and 
 
 Beheld in Galilee — 
 Beheld, when morn shall waken, 
 
 And shadows shall decay, 
 And each true-hearted servant 
 
 Shall shine as doth the day ; 
 And every ear shall hear it — 
 
 "Behold thy King's array. 
 Behold thy GOD in Beauty, 
 
 The Law hath pass'd away I" 
 
 Yes ! God my King and Portion, 
 
 In fullness of Thy grace, 
 We then shall see forever, 
 
 And worship face to face. 
 
38 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Then Jacob into Israel, 
 
 From earthlier self estranged, 
 And Leah into Rachel 
 
 Forever shall be changed; 
 Then all the halls of Zion 
 
 For aye shall be complete, 
 And in the Land of Beauty 
 
 All things of beauty meet. 
 
 For thee, O dear, dear Country ! 
 
 Mine eyes their vigils keep ; 
 For very love, beholding 
 
 Thy happy Name, they weep. 
 The mention of Thy glory 
 
 Is unction to the breast, 
 And medicine in sickness, 
 
 And love, and life, and rest. 
 
 O one, O only Mansion ! 
 
 O Paradise of Joy! 
 Where tears are ever banished, 
 
 And smiles have no alloy, 
 Beside thy living waters 
 
 All plants are, great and small, 
 The cedar of the forest, 
 
 The hyssop of the wall ; 
 With jaspers glow thy bulwarks, 
 
 Thy streets with emeralds blaze, 
 The sardius and the topaz 
 
 Unite in thee their rays; 
 Thine ageless walls are bounded 
 
 With amethyst unpriced; 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 39 
 
 Thy Saints build up its fabric, 
 
 And the corner-stone is Christ. 
 The Cross is all thy splendor, 
 
 The Crucified thy praise ; 
 His laud and benediction 
 
 Thy ransomed people raise : 
 "Jesus the Gem of Beauty, 
 
 True God and Man" they sing, 
 "The never-failing Garden, 
 
 The ever-golden Ring ; 
 The Door, the Pledge, the Husband, 
 
 The Guardian of his Court; 
 The Day-star of Salvation, 
 
 The Porter and the Port!" 
 
 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! 
 
 Thou hast no time, bright day ! 
 Dear fountain of refreshment 
 
 To pilgrims far away ! 
 Upon the Rock of Ages 
 
 They raise thy holy tower ; 
 Thine is the victor's laurel, 
 
 And thine the golden dower ! 
 
 Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, 
 
 O Bride thou know'st no guile, 
 The Prince's sweetest kisses, 
 
 The Prince's loveliest smile; 
 Unfading lilies, bracelets 
 
 Of living pearl thine own; 
 The Lamb is ever near thee, 
 
 The Bridegroom thine alone. 
 
40 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 The Crown is He to guerdon, 
 The Buckler to protect, 
 
 And He Himself the Mansion, 
 And He the Architect. 
 
 The only art thou needest — 
 
 Thanksgiving for thy lot; 
 The only joy thou seekest — 
 
 The Life where Death is not. 
 And all thine endless leisure, 
 
 In sweetest accents, sings 
 The ill that was thy merit, 
 
 The wealth that is Thy King's! 
 
 Jerusalem the Golden, 
 
 With milk and honey blest, 
 Beneath Thy contemplation 
 
 Sink heart and voice oppressed. 
 I know not, O I know not, 
 
 What social joys are there! 
 What radiancy of glory, 
 
 What light beyond compare ! 
 And when I fain would sing them, 
 
 My spirit fails and faints ; 
 And vainly would it image 
 
 The assembly of the Saints. 
 
 They stand, those halls of Zion, 
 Con jubilant with song, 
 
 And bright with many an angel, 
 And all the martyr throng; 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 41 
 
 The Prince is ever in them, 
 
 The daylight is serene ; 
 The pastures of the Blessed 
 
 Are decked in glorious sheen. 
 
 There is the Throne of David, 
 
 And there, from care released, 
 The song of them that triumph, 
 
 The shout of them that feast; 
 And they, who with their Leader, 
 
 Have conquered in the fight, 
 Forever and forever 
 
 Are clad in robes of white ! 
 
 O holy, placid harp-notes 
 
 Of that eternal hymn ! 
 O sacred, sweet perfection, 
 
 And peace of Seraphim ! 
 O thirst, forever ardent, 
 
 Yet evermore content ! 
 O true, peculiar vision 
 
 Of God cunctipotent ! 
 Ye know the many mansions 
 
 For many a glorious name, 
 And divers retributions 
 
 That divers merits claim; 
 For 'midst the constellations 
 
 That deck our earthly sky, 
 This star than that is brighter — 
 
 And so it is on high. 
 
42 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Jerusalem the glorious ! 
 
 The glory of the Elect! 
 O dear and future vision 
 
 That eager hearts expect! 
 Even now by faith I see thee, 
 
 Even here thy walls discern ; . 
 To thee iny thoughts are kindled, 
 
 And strive, and pant, and yearn. 
 
 Jerusalem the only, 
 
 That look'st from heaven below, 
 In thee is all my glory, 
 
 In me is all my woe ; 
 And though my body may not, 
 
 My spirit seeks thee fain, 
 Till flesh and earth return me 
 
 To earth and flesh again. 
 
 O none can tell thy bulwarks, 
 
 How gloriously they rise ! 
 O none can tell thy capitals 
 
 Of beautiful device ! 
 Thy loveliness oppresses 
 
 All human thought and heart ; 
 And none, O peace, O Zion ! 
 
 Can sing thee as thou art! 
 
 New mansion of new people, 
 Whom God's own love and light 
 
 Promote, increase, make holy, 
 Identify, unite! 
 
De Contemptu Mundi - 43 
 
 Thou City of the Angels! 
 
 Thou City of the Lord! 
 Whose everlasting music 
 
 Is the glorious decachord ! 
 
 And there the band of Prophets 
 
 United praise ascribes, 
 And there the twelvefold chorus 
 
 Of Israel's ransomed tribes. 
 The lily-beds of virgins, 
 
 The roses' martyr-glow. 
 The cohort of the Fathers 
 
 Who kept the Faith below. 
 
 And there the Sole-Begotten 
 
 Is Lord in regal state — 
 He, Judah's mystic Lion, 
 
 He, Lamb Immaculate. 
 O fields that know no sorrow ; 
 
 O state that fears no strife! 
 
 princely bowers ! O land of flowers ! 
 
 realm and home of Life ! 
 
 Jerusalem, exulting 
 On that securest shore, 
 
 1 hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, 
 And love thee evermore! 
 
 I ask not for my merit, 
 
 1 seek not to deny, 
 My merit is destruction, 
 
 A child of wrath am I; 
 But yet with Faith I venture 
 
44 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 And Hope upon my way; 
 For those perennial guerdons 
 I labor night and day. 
 
 The best and dearest Father, 
 
 Who made me and who saved, 
 Bore with me in defilement, 
 
 And from defilement laved. 
 When in His strength I struggle, 
 
 For very joy I leap, 
 When in my sin I totter, 
 
 I weep, or try to weep ; 
 But grace, sweet grace celestial, 
 
 Shall all its love display, 
 And David's Royal Fountain 
 
 Purge every sin away. 
 
 O mine, my Golden Zion ! 
 
 O lovelier far than gold, 
 With laurel-girt battalions, 
 
 And safe victorious fold ! 
 O sweet and blessed Country, 
 
 Shall I ever see thy face? 
 
 sweet and blessed Country, 
 Shall I ever win thy grace? 
 
 1 have the hope within me 
 To comfort and to bless ! 
 
 Shall I ever win the prize itself? 
 O tell me, tell me, Yes ! 
 
 Exult, O dust and ashes! 
 The Lord shall be thy part; 
 
De Contemptu Mundi 45 
 
 His only, His forever, 
 
 Thou shalt be, and thou art! 
 
 Exult, O dust and ashes! 
 The Lord shall be thy part; 
 
 His only, His forever, 
 
 Thou shalt be, and thou art! 
 
 [Note — The following changes from the au- 
 thor's text have been made in above version : 
 Ninth stanza, fourteenth line, those is substituted 
 for them; twenty-second stanza, second line, thy 
 is substituted for his; forty-second stanza, ninth 
 line, but is substituted for and.] 
 
III. 
 
 THE STAB AT MATER. 
 
THE STABAT MATER. 
 
 THE third of the great mediaeval hymns 
 
 came, as did the first, the Dies Irce, 
 
 from the Franciscans. It was Thomas of 
 
 Celano who gave to the world that terrible 
 
 warning, beginning: 
 
 Dies Irse ! Dies Ilia ! 
 Solvet sseclum in favilla 
 Teste David cum Sybilla. 
 
 And it was also a son of the great one of 
 Assisi who wrote that saddest of the hymns 
 of the Christian Church, that hymn whose 
 opening lines have moved the hearts of mil- 
 lions with its despairing grief, so wonder- 
 fully expressed in the Latin version : 
 
 Stabat Mater dolorosa, 
 Juxta crucem lacrymosa, 
 
 Dum pendebat films. 
 Cujus animam gementem, 
 Contristatem et dolentem, 
 
 Pertransivit gladius. 
 
 One does not need to possess a knowledge 
 of Latin to grasp the piteous beauty of such 
 
5o Seven Great Hymns 
 
 a stanza. If the words are read aloud, with 
 due regard for pause and rhythm, the soul 
 of the listener is caught in the mesh of their 
 melodious intensity, and though the words 
 awaken no definite impression, the dolorous 
 cadence stirs the heart to melancholy. But 
 this marvel of hymnody is not only a cry of 
 a troubled heart; it is a poem of glorifica- 
 tion, an ecstatic confession of faith, a tri- 
 umphant declaration of the result of the 
 Great Sacrifice, for the last stanza rings 
 with the exultation of a devout soul : 
 
 Fac me cruce custodiri 
 Morte Christi prsemuniri 
 
 Confoveri gratia. 
 Quando corpus morietur 
 Fac ut animae donetur 
 
 Paradisi gloria. 
 
 The author of the Stabat Mater was Ja- 
 cobus de Benedictis, born of the Benedittes, 
 in Lodi, Italy. His early manhood was de- 
 voted to the law, but his prospects were 
 blighted by the death of his beloved wife. 
 With her death the light went from the 
 world, and all the opportunities that were 
 open to the distinguished jurist seemed to 
 
The Stabat Mater. 51 
 
 lead to profitless results. The lawyer be- 
 came the Levite, and, renouncing the world, 
 Beneditte put on the garb of St. Francis 
 and passed his life in unremitting penance, 
 the self-imposed rigorous tortures of which 
 caused his insanity and death. But before 
 the mind of the brilliant man gave way be- 
 neath the weight of uncontrolled sorrow, he 
 wrote the heart-cry, Stabat Mater, which 
 shows the grief of the bereaved husband in 
 his expression of the bitter woe that came 
 to the mother of Jesus. 
 
 It is said — with but faint proof, it must 
 be confessed — that to the author of Stabat 
 Mater must be ascribed the Mater Speciosa, 
 that nativity hymn whose glad strains begin 
 joyfully: 
 
 Stabat Mater speciosa 
 Juxta foenum gaudiosa, 
 
 Dum jacebat parvulus ; 
 Cujus animam gaudentem 
 Lactabundam ac ferventum 
 
 Pertransivit jubilus. 
 
 (Full of beauty stood the mother 
 By the manger, blest o'er other, 
 Where her little one she lays ; 
 
52 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 For her inmost soul's elation, 
 In its fervid jubilation 
 
 Thrills with ecstacy of praise.) 
 
 Of the Mater Speciosa the stanza that is 
 most clear-cut in its impression upon our 
 memory is : 
 
 Virgo virginum praeclara, 
 Mihi jam non sis amara; 
 
 Fac me parvum rapere 
 Fac ut pulchrum fantem portem, 
 Qui nascendo vicit mortem, 
 
 Volens vitam tradere. 
 
 (Virgin, peerless of condition, 
 Be not wroth with my petition, 
 
 Let me clasp thy little Son ; 
 Let me bear that child so glorious, 
 Him, whose birth, o'er death victorious, 
 
 Willed that life for man was won.) 
 
 Despite the beauty of its theme, despite 
 its sincere piety and fine poetic expression, 
 the Mater Speciosa is inferior in quality to 
 the Stabat Mater, though mayhap both 
 hymns are among the poems of the world's 
 literature. An eminent commentator has 
 said of these hymns : "The Mater Speciosa 
 and the Mater Dolorosa (the Stabat Mater) 
 
The Stabat Mater. 53 
 
 are companion hymns, and resemble each 
 other like twin sisters. The Mater Dolo- 
 rosa was evidently suggested by St. John 
 (John xix, 25), Stabat juxta crucem mater 
 epis; and this suggested the cradle hymn as 
 a counterpart. It is a parallelism of con- 
 trast which runs from beginning to end. 
 The Mater Speciosa is a Christmas hymn, 
 and sings the overflowing joy of Mary at 
 the cradle of the new-born Saviour. The 
 Mater Dolorosa is a Good Friday hymn and 
 sings the piercing agony of Mary at the 
 cross of her human Son. They breathe the 
 same love to Christ, and the burning desire 
 to become identified with Mary by sympa- 
 thy in the intensity of her joy as in the 
 intensity of her grief. They are the same 
 in structure, and excel alike in the singu- 
 larly touching music of language and the 
 soft cadence that echoes the sentiment. * 
 * * The mysterious charm and power of 
 the two hymns are due to the subject and 
 the intensity of feeling with which the au- 
 thor seized it. Mary at the manger and 
 Mary at the cross opens a vista to an abyss 
 of joy and of grief such as the world never 
 saw before." 
 
54 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Our interior consideration of the Stabat 
 Mater is heightened by studying it in con- 
 nection with the other great Crucifixion 
 hymns. These are of varying dates and by 
 authors whose names have in many cases 
 escaped the search of the compilers of 
 hymnologies. We find that the first of these 
 hymns is of Grecian origin and is to Christ 
 on the cross : 
 
 Thou who, on the sixth day and hour, 
 Didst nail to the cross the sin 
 Which Adam dared in Paradise ; 
 Rend also the handwriting of our trans- 
 gressions, 
 O Christ, our God, and save us ! 
 
 This is indeed inferior to the great Stabat 
 Mater, yet it is the expression of a pious 
 soul crying out for salvation. Yet, judged 
 as a piece of literary composition solely, 
 how barren is the stanza without the mother 
 love of the virgin, desolate and mourning. 
 We cannot even sketch the Crucifixion 
 hymns written between the first years of 
 the establishing of the Christian Church in 
 Greece and those of the triumph of the 
 Roman rite over those of the other divisions 
 
The Stabat Mater. 55 
 
 of the church. We may, however, quote a 
 stanza , from that superlatively beautiful 
 hymn of St. Bernard : 
 
 SALVE CAPUT CRUENTATUM. 
 
 Hail, thou Head ! so bruised and wounded, 
 With the crown of thorns surrounded, 
 Smitten with the mocking reed, 
 Wounds which may not cease to bleed 
 
 Trickling faint and slow. 
 Hail ! from whose most blessed brow 
 None can wipe the blood-drop now ; 
 All the bloom of life has fled, 
 Mortal paleness there instead ; 
 Thou, before whose presence dread 
 
 Angels trembling bow. 
 
 This hymn finds as worthy a complement 
 in The Pierced Feet of Jesus as does the 
 Stabat Mater in the Mater Speciosa. St. 
 Bernard's genius shines forth in both. 
 
 SALVE MUNDE SALUTARE. 
 
 All the world's salvation, hail ! 
 Jesus, Saviour, hail, oh hail ! 
 I would be conformed now 
 To Thy Cross ; Thou knowest how ! 
 Grant Thy strength to me ! 
 
S6 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 j 
 
 And, if present, oh, receive me ! 
 Ever present I believe Thee, 
 Pure and spotless, I adore Thee, 
 See me, prostrate, here before Thee, 
 Be Thy pardon free. 
 
 It is, however, idle to bring forward 
 hymns to compare with the Stabat Mater. 
 Those we have quoted are perhaps most 
 w r orthy of comparison, but they are so far 
 inferior to the standard with which they 
 are compared that the juxtaposition causes 
 unjust appraisement. By themselves the 
 hymns of Bernard rank high as examples 
 of devotional exercise and as gems of poet- 
 ical composition, and, therefore, we might 
 well so consider them. 
 
 We have been at a loss to select a trans- 
 lation of the Stabat Mater. The delicacy, 
 the beauty of the poem finds its fullest ex- 
 pression in the Latin, and well-nigh vain 
 have been the efforts of our translators to 
 render these qualities into English. Indeed, 
 of all the mediaeval hymns none suffer such 
 loss in translation as the Stabat Mater. 
 The present writer has striven to make a 
 worthy translation, and confesses to utter 
 
The Stabat Mater. 57 
 
 failure. In translations there is such radi- 
 cal difference of rendering as to bewilder 
 the student; for example, the last stanza, 
 the Latin of which is quoted above, has 
 been translated : 
 
 By Lindsay — 
 
 So the shadow of the tree, 
 Where thy Jesus bled for me, 
 
 Still shall be my fortalice; 
 So when flesh and spirit sever 
 Shall I live, thy boon, forever 
 
 In the joys of Paradise! 
 
 By Dix— 
 
 With the Cross my faith I'll cherish, 
 By Christ's death sustained I'll perish, 
 
 Through His grace again to rise. 
 Come then, Death, this body sealing, 
 To my ransomed soul revealing 
 
 Glorious days in Paradise. 
 
 By Coles — 
 
 Let me by the Cross be warded, 
 By the death of Christ be guarded, 
 
 Nourished by divine supplies. 
 When the body death hath riven, 
 Grant that to the soul be given 
 
 Glories bright of Paradise. 
 
58 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 By Nott— 
 
 Let me by the Cross directed, 
 By the death of Christ protected, 
 
 See below His glory far. 
 Then this body, mouldering, riven — 
 Then be to my spirit given 
 
 Paradisi Gloria! 
 
 We give from the versions of the hymn 
 selected, though with doubt, that by Gen. 
 John Adams Dix, of New Hampshire, and 
 we transcribe it below in its entirety : 
 
 Near the Cross the Saviour bearing 
 Stood the mother lone, despairing, 
 
 Bitter tears down falling fast. 
 Wearied was her breast with grieving 
 Worn her breast with sorrow heaving, 
 
 Through her soul the sword had passed. 
 
 Ah ! how sad and broken-hearted 
 Was that blessed mother, parted 
 
 From the God-begotten One! 
 How her loving heart did languish 
 When she saw the mortal anguish 
 
 Which o'erwhelmed her peerless Son. 
 
 Who could witness without weeping 
 Such a flood of sorrow sweeping 
 O'er the stricken mother's breast? 
 
The Stabat Mater. 59 
 
 Who contemplate without being 
 Moved to kindred grief by seeing 
 Son and mother thus oppressed? 
 
 For our sins she saw Him bending, 
 And the cruel lash descending 
 
 On His body, stripped and bare ; 
 Saw her own dear Jesus dying, 
 Heard His spirit's last out-crying, 
 
 Sharp with anguish and despair. 
 
 Gentle Mother, love's pure fountain ! 
 Cast, oh ! cast on me the mountain 
 
 Of thy grief that I may weep ; 
 Let my heart with ardor burning, 
 Christ's unbounded love returning. 
 
 His rich favor win and keep. 
 
 Holy Mother, be thy study 
 
 Christ's dear image scarred and bloody 
 
 To enshrine within my heart ! 
 Martyred Son ! whose grace has set me 
 Free from endless death, oh ! let me 
 
 Of Thy sufferings bear a part. 
 
 Mother, let our tears commingle. 
 Be the crucifix my single 
 
 Sign of sorrow while I live ; 
 Let me by the Cross stand near thee, 
 There to see thee, there to hear thee, 
 
 For each sigh a sigh to give. 
 
60 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Purest of the Virgins ! turn not 
 Thy displeasure on me — spurn not 
 
 My desire to weep with thee. 
 Let me live Christ's passion sharing, 
 All His wounds and sorrows bearing 
 
 In my tearful memory. 
 
 Be, ye wounds, my tribulation ! 
 Be, thou Cross, my inspiration ! 
 
 Mark, O blood, my Heaven-ward way. 
 Thus to fervor rapt, O tender 
 Virgin, be thou my defender 
 
 In the dreadful Judgment Day. 
 
 With the Cross my faith I'll cherish ; 
 By Christ's death sustained I'll perish, 
 
 Through His grace again to rise. 
 Come then, Death, this body sealing, 
 To my ransomed soul revealing 
 
 Glorious days in Paradise. 
 
IV. 
 THE VEXILLA REGIS. 
 
THE VEXILLA REGIS. 
 
 THE Vexilla Regis, the fourth hymn of 
 our canon of great hymns, bridges a 
 space of fourteen centuries, written, as it 
 was, in the closing decade of the sixth hun- 
 dred of those years that separate our date 
 from that of the birth of Christ. This is the 
 oldest of the great hymns of the Christian 
 Church, and it has been one of the most 
 powerfully influential. It is the hymn of 
 hope and courage; the hymn that has ani- 
 mated the bearers of the cross to well-nigh 
 superhuman efforts in the cause of their 
 faith. The Vexilla Regis, in its present 
 form, is essentially a missionary hymn, and, 
 throughout the length and breadth of the 
 Americas, its strains have been the first to 
 wake the silence of the unconquered wilder- 
 ness. When Ponce de Leon landed on the 
 shores of Florida, it was the Vexilla that 
 was sung when the explorers had assembled 
 for the inland march; when La Salle came 
 down the Mississippi and took possession of 
 the vast empire of Louisiana for the King 
 
66 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 of France, his first office, after setting up 
 the symbol of proprietorship, was to join in 
 the singing of the Vexilla. And so it was 
 wherever Spain and France w r ent into the 
 New World, for these nations bore in one 
 hand a cross and in the other a sword. The 
 men of the cross chanted the Vexilla in the 
 North, South and West, and the natives' 
 first knowledge of the rites of the Catholic 
 Church came through this famous hymn. 
 
 It is a long bridge — one built by pious 
 hands advancing the cross — from the days 
 of exploration and discovery in America to 
 those when the sons of Clovis, the great 
 Frankish monarch, wrangled for the fertile 
 plains from which they had dispossessed 
 the Roman conquerors of the Gauls. It 
 was, however, in that country and time that 
 Venantius Fortunatus, lately come from 
 Northern Italy, lived. He was, perhaps, 
 twenty years old when he crossed the Apen- 
 nines and brought his good looks and lively 
 wit to the court of Sigebert of Austrasia. 
 Of the poets and singers of his day Fortu- 
 natus well deserved his name, for he was 
 the favorite of lords and ladies, and wel- 
 comed everywhere for his sunny disposi- 
 
The Vexilla Regis. 67 
 
 tion, beautiful voice and clever turn of 
 versemaking. In those days of light-resting 
 bonds of faithfulness and passionate pur- 
 suit of pleasure, we find Fortunatus an ex- 
 ception to his friends, who for the greater 
 part were of easy virtue and gay lives. The 
 poet was no anchorite, however, and in pur- 
 ple and fine linen was he clothed, and every 
 day he fared sumptuously. Indeed, we find 
 that his indulgence in the fleshpots of 
 France laid upon him the heavy cross of 
 indigestion, and incidentally stirred his muse 
 to lamentations. One intimacy, and one 
 alone, did Fortunatus have, and this was 
 with Queen Rhadegunda, wife of King Clo- 
 taire. This intimate friendship was to be 
 the controlling influence of the life of For- 
 tunatus, and, strange to say, in the gossip- 
 ing age of libertinism in which lived Rhade- 
 gunda and the poet, not a breath of scandal 
 marred the friendship of saintly queen or 
 virtuous author. On the contrary, it was 
 through the effect of this friendship that 
 Fortunatus forsook the life of the world, 
 was consecrated a priest, and passed into 
 history as the author of several famous 
 hymns. 
 
68 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Four are the great hymns of Fortunatus, 
 and they have gained in the estimation of 
 the faithful as centuries have proved their 
 quality. The Vexilla Regis is the most fa- 
 mous, but praiseworthy, too, are the three 
 not so well known to the Protestant com- 
 munions. Of these Crux Bene dicta Nitet, 
 Dominus qua Came Perpendit is of great 
 beauty. Its opening verses are : 
 
 The blessed Cross shines now to us where once 
 
 the Saviour bled; 
 Love made Him victim there for us, and there 
 
 His blood was shed. 
 
 And with His wounds our wounds He heal'd, 
 
 and wash'd our sins away, 
 And rescued from the raging wolf the lost and 
 
 helpless prey. 
 
 This poem, as well as two others of the 
 quartet, is devoted to the honoring of the 
 Cross, and the Pange Lingua Gloriosi Pro- 
 elium Certaminis, in lofty strains, continues 
 the adoration. Its first verse is : 
 
 Spread, my tongue, the wondrous story of the 
 
 glorious battle far, 
 What the trophies and the triumphs of the Cross 
 
 of Jesus are; 
 
The Vexilla Regis. 69 
 
 How the victim, immolated, vanquished in that 
 mighty war ! 
 
 In order that the reader may refer to all 
 these hymns of Fortunatus, we quote the 
 first lines also of Salve Festa Dies Toto 
 Venerabilis Aevo, the Easter hymn that has 
 won a world-wide fame : 
 
 Hail, festal day! ever exalted high, 
 
 On which God conquered hell, and rules the 
 
 starry sky; \ 
 
 Hail, festal day! ever exalted high. 
 
 We may now consider the greatest of the 
 hymns of Fortunatus, the hymn Vexilla 
 Regis. The hymn is of great literary as 
 well as devotional merit. It has thus a dual 
 claim, in addition to its historic value, upon 
 our consideration. It may have been pro- 
 duced after Fortunatus had been honored 
 by elevation to the Bishopric of Poitiers. 
 At all events, it is ascribable to the later 
 years of his productivity and is the fairest 
 flower of his genius. Although the poem 
 is rightly appraised as one of the greatest, 
 if not the very greatest, of missionary 
 hymns, it was not designed for such use; 
 
jo Seven Great Hymns 
 
 it was a processional composed in honor of 
 certain relics of St. Gregory of Tours and 
 St. Radegunde, which were bestowed upon 
 a church within the diocese of Fortunatus. 
 The character of the hymn made it peculi- 
 arly suitable for Lenten use, and we find, 
 therefore, that two verses have been added 
 to the original version. Following the trans- 
 lation of Nott, these may be given thus : 
 
 With fragrance dropping from each bough, 
 Sweeter than sweetest nectar thou; 
 Decked with the fruit of peace and praise, 
 And glorious with Triumphal lays. 
 
 Hail, Altar! Hail, O Victim! Thee 
 Decks now Thy Passion's Victory ; 
 Where Life for sinners death endured, 
 And life by death for man procured. 
 
 The Latin version is of beauty, its rhythm 
 appealing, its language impressive. The 
 first two verses are : 
 
 Vexilla regis prodeunt, 
 Fulget crucis mysterium, 
 Quo carne carnis conditor 
 Suspensus est patibulo. 
 
The Vexilla Regis. 71 
 
 Te summa Deus Trinitas 
 Collaudet omnis spiritus 
 Quas per crucis mysterium 
 Salvas, rege per saecula. 
 
 The Vexilla Regis does not suffer so 
 much by translation as some of its compan- 
 ions in the canon of great hymns. Those 
 who have set it over into English have pre- 
 served the swing of its movement and the 
 intensity of its sentiment. There seems, 
 however, a wide diversity in conception of 
 the meaning of words. This is not singu- 
 lar to the Vexilla Regis. We have noted it 
 in the Stabat Mater, De Contemptu Mundi 
 and Dies Irce. The length of these poems 
 prevented us from giving parallel transla- 
 tions in their entirety. In the present in- 
 stance we are able to give the leading Eng- 
 lish versions of the hymn. The first of these 
 is by Dr. Neale, whose work w r e have en- 
 sampled in the Celestial Country. The sec- 
 ond translation is by Catherine Winkworth 
 and is not inferior to that of Dr. Neale. 
 Miss Winkworth has rendered literature 
 great service by her work in mediaeval 
 hymnology, and her ability finds exemplifi- 
 
72 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 cation in that beautiful version of that 
 hymn, which the Jesuit missionaries have 
 made their own : 
 
 THE VEXILLA REGIS. 
 
 (Dr. Neale.) 
 
 The Royal Banners forward go; 
 The Cross shines forth in mystic glow ; 
 Where He in flesh, our flesh who made, 
 Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. 
 
 Where deep for us the spear was dy'd, 
 Life's torrent rushing from His side, 
 To wash us in that precious flood 
 Where mingled water flowed, and blood. 
 
 Fulfiird is all that David told 
 
 In true prophetic songs of old; 
 
 Amidst the nations God, saith he, 
 
 Hath reign'd and triumph'd from the Tree. 
 
 O Tree of Beauty! Tree of Light; 
 O Tree with royal purple dight ! 
 Elect on whose triumphal breast 
 Those holy limbs should find their rest ! 
 
 On whose dear arms, so widely flung, 
 The weight of this world's ransom hung ; 
 The price of human kind to pay, 
 And spoil the Spoiler of his prey. 
 
The Vexilla Regis. 73 
 
 O Cross, our one reliance, hail ! 
 This holy Passion-tide, avail 
 To give fresh merit to the saint, 
 And pardon to the penitent. 
 
 To Thee, Eternal Three in One, 
 Let homage meet by all be done; 
 Whom by the Cross Thou dost restore, 
 Preserve and govern evermore. 
 
 This is the rendering given by Miss Wink- 
 worth : 
 
 THE VEXILLA REGIS. 
 
 (Miss Wink worth.) 
 
 The Banner of the King goes forth — 
 The Cross, the radiant mystery, 
 
 Where, in a frame of human birth, 
 Man's Maker suffers on the Tree. 
 
 Fix'd with the fatal nails to death, 
 
 With outstretch'd hands and pierced feet ; 
 
 Here the pure Victim yields His breath, 
 That our redemption be complete. 
 
 And ere had closed that mournful day 
 They wounded with the spear His side ; 
 
 That He might wash our sins away, 
 His blood pour'd forth its crimson tide! 
 
74 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 The truth that David learn'd to sing, 
 Its deep fulfillment here attains ; 
 "Tell all the earth the Lord is King !" 
 
 Lo ! from the Cross, a King He reigns ! 
 
 O most elect and pleasant Tree, 
 Chosen such sacred limbs to bear; 
 
 A royal purple clotheth thee, 
 
 The purple of His blood is there! 
 
 Blest ! on whose arms, in woe sublime, 
 The Ransom of the ages lay, 
 
 Outweighing all the sins of Time, 
 Despoiling Satan of his prey. 
 
 A fragrance from thy bark distills, 
 Surpassing heavenly nectar far ; 
 
 The noblest fruit thy branches fills, 
 Weapon of the victorious war. 
 
 Hail, altar ! Victim, hail once more ! 
 
 That glorious Passion be adored ! 
 Since death the Life Himself thus bore, 
 
 And by that death our life restored! 
 
V. 
 VENI SANCTE SPIRITUS. 
 
 VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS. 
 
VENI SANCTE SPIRITUS. 
 
 VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS. 
 
 TWO great poems contest for the fifth 
 place in or choice of seven great medi- 
 aeval hymns. It is difficult to decide be- 
 tween these claimants, for both are hallowed 
 by the reverence of centuries, and have 
 for almost a thousand years moved the 
 hearts of Christians. Viewed from the 
 standpoint of an ecclesiastic, the Veni Cre- 
 ator Spirit us may well be regarded as co- 
 equal with the Veni Sancte Spiritus. Both 
 breathe the purest spirit of devotion, both 
 voice the doctrines of the church, and both 
 move the heart to religious practices. We 
 are forced, then, to judge between these 
 grand examples of the highest art of the 
 hymnist by literary standards. Even when 
 we attempt to thus discriminate, we find our 
 difficulties in small wise lessened, for at the 
 outset we might well ask ourselves : shall 
 we judge these poems in their original Latin 
 or as they are translated or paraphrased? 
 If the former, w r e are judging for the few; 
 
80 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 if the latter, for the many. Yet that is ex- 
 actly what we are forced to do in the pres- 
 ent instance, for the poems were written in 
 Latin, and no translation can stand on a 
 parity with the original version. Viewed 
 by this literary standard, we give to the 
 Veni Sancte Spiritus the fifth place in our 
 canon, though in doing so, we couple with it 
 the Veni Creator Spiritus. 
 
 The hymn is said to have been written in 
 the last decade of the tenth century, and 
 the authorship is ascribed to King Robert 
 II of France, and while we can be in no- 
 wise certain that the ascription is correct, 
 we may be reasonably sure that it is. In 
 this opinion the leading writers upon Latin 
 hymnology concur, and their support is 
 strengthened by the fact that King Robert 
 was, from the testimony of his contempo- 
 raries, capable of composing such a hymn 
 as the Veni Sancte Spiritus, "for," says the 
 chronicle of St. Bertin, "he was devout, 
 circumspect, learned, philosophical, and 
 moreover, an excellent musician." Bertin 
 further states that he composed other hymns 
 of great beauty. The ability being conceded, 
 we next find that the hymn has never been 
 
Veni Sancte Spiritus. 8 i 
 
 seriously attributed to any other author, and 
 the testimony of countless churchmen in- 
 dorses King Robert's authorship, and we 
 may add that, if there had been the slight- 
 est ground for taking from King Robert 
 the glory of having given to the world this 
 great hymn, the jealousies of contending 
 clerical factions would have given it promi- 
 nence. 
 
 The Veni Sancte in its original is pecu- 
 liarly impressive. The poet, though using a 
 somewhat contracted style, has infused into 
 his well-chosen words, whose cadence is re- 
 markably effective, a spirit that at once 
 classes the Veni Sancte Spiritus with the 
 Dies Irce and the Stabat Mater. The open- 
 ing stanzas are : 
 
 Veni, Sancte Spiritus, 
 Et emitte ccelitus, 
 Lucis tuae radium. 
 
 Veni, pater pauperum, 
 Veni, dator munerum, 
 Veni, lumen cordium. 
 
 The second of these verses may well be 
 taken as an example of differing concep- 
 
82 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 tions of meaning shown by translators. The 
 whole emphasis, to the present writer, is 
 thrown on the Veni, Veni, Veni, and the 
 stanza is best translated — 
 
 Come, Father of the poor to earth, 
 Come with Thy gifts of precious worth, 
 Come, Light of all of mortal birth — 
 
 but it has been rendered by an eminent 
 translator — 
 
 Come, thou Father of the poor, 
 Giver from a boundless store, 
 Light of Hearts, O shine! 
 
 In this version, which it seems to us is 
 little more than a paraphrase faintly echo- 
 ing the real emphasis of the Latin, the 
 translation has lost the true spirit of the 
 hymn, as has been more fully pointed out 
 by the learned commentator, Nott. The 
 closing verses of the original version are 
 worthy of quotation, because of their per- 
 fect Latinity. They furnish a striking ex- 
 ample of the power of simple words, and as 
 simple construction, to express in brief 
 
Veni Sancte Spiritus. 83 
 
 phrase a wide sweep of the most exalted 
 spirituality. 
 
 Da tuis fidelibus, 
 In te confidentibus, 
 Sacrum septenarium. 
 
 Da virtutis meritum, 
 Da salutis exitum, 
 Da perenne guadium. 
 
 Of the translations of the Veni Sancte 
 Spiritus few, in fact but two, seem worthy 
 of our serious consideration. The first of 
 these is the work of the gifted author Cath- 
 erine Winkworth, whose version of the 
 Vexilla Regis has been quoted. This trans- 
 lation is faithful to the spirit of the origi- 
 nal, and its English is of such a character 
 as to render it of great use in choral serv- 
 ices. It is : 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost ! Thou fire divine ! 
 From highest heaven on us down shine ! 
 Comforter, be Thy comfort mine ! 
 
 Come, Father of the poor, to earth; 
 Come, with Thy gifts of precious worth ; 
 Come, Light of all of mortal birth ! 
 
84 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Thou rich in comfort! Ever blest 
 
 The heart where Thou art constant guest, 
 
 Who giv'st the heavy-laden rest. 
 
 Come, Thou in Whom our toil is sweet, 
 Our shadow in the noonday heat, 
 Before whom mourning flieth fleet. 
 
 Bright Son of Grace! Thy sunshine dart 
 On all who cry to Thee apart, 
 And fill with gladness every heart. 
 
 What'er without Thy aid is wrought, 
 Or skillful deed, or wisest thought, 
 God counts it vain and merely naught. 
 
 O cleanse us that we sin no more, 
 O'er parched souls Thy waters pour ; 
 Heal the sad heart that acheth sore. 
 
 Thy will be ours in all our ways; 
 O melt the frozen with Thy rays ; 
 Call home the lost in error's maze. 
 
 And grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee, 
 And hold the faith in unity, 
 Thy precious gifts of charity. 
 
 That we may live in holiness, 
 And find in death our happiness, 
 And dwell with Thee in lasting bliss ! 
 
Veni Sancte Spiritus. 85 
 
 This beautiful translation will hold its 
 place as the favorite rendering of the Veni 
 Sancte Spiritus, but in quoting it we must 
 not neglect to mention the translation made 
 by Dr. Trench. This begins : 
 
 Holy Spirit, come, we pray, 
 Come from heaven and shed the ray 
 Of Thy light divine. 
 
 And its concluding stanzas are : 
 
 What is rigid, gently bend, 
 On what is cold, Thy fervor send; 
 What has strayed restore. 
 
 To Thine own in every place 
 Give the sacred sereneful grace 
 Give Thy faithful this. 
 
 Give to virtue its reward, 
 Safe and peaceful end afford, 
 Give eternal bliss. 
 
 It is fitting in writing of the Veni Sancte 
 Spiritus to dwell for a space upon that 
 great companion hymn, the Veni Creator 
 Spiritus, and also quote a stanza from the 
 O Agnus Spiritus Paracleti, the third mem- 
 ber of the triad. This last hymn is the 
 
86 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 latest of the three, and is from the heart 
 of the devout Abbess Hildegarde. Its open- 
 ing stanza has been translated : 
 
 O sweetest taste within the breast ! O grace upon 
 
 us poured, 
 That saintly hearts may give again their perfume 
 
 to the Lord; 
 O purest Fountain we can see, clear mirrored in 
 
 Thy streams, 
 That God brings home the wanderers, that God 
 
 the lost redeems. 
 
 But we must now confine ourselves to the 
 Veni Creator Spiritus, a hymn around 
 whose origin float the mists of uncertainty. 
 Some ascribe the creation of this great 
 hymn, which throughout a thousand years 
 and more has been an inspiration to men, 
 to Charlemagne, and those holding this view 
 furnish circumstantial evidence in proof of 
 their contentions ; others ascribe it to Greg- 
 ory the Great, and no less satisfying is the 
 proof they bring forward. Tradition favors 
 the ascription to Charlemagne, yet modern 
 authority is veering to the Gregorian attri- 
 bution. 
 
Veni Creator Spiritus. 87 
 
 Veni, Creator Spiritus, 
 Mentes tuorum visita, 
 Imple superna gratia, 
 Quae tu creasti pectora. 
 
 Qui diceris Paraclitus 
 Altissimi donum Dei, 
 Fons vivus, ignis, charitas, 
 Et Spiritalis unctio. 
 
 Tu septiformis munere, 
 Digitus Paternae dexterae, 
 Tu rite promissum Patris, 
 Sermone ditans guttura. 
 
 Accende lumen sensibus 
 Infunde amorem cordibus, 
 Infirma nostri corporis 
 Virtute firmans perpeti. 
 
 Hostem repellas longius, 
 Pacemque dones protinus, 
 Ductore sic te praevio 
 Vitemus omne noxium. 
 
 Da gaudiorum praemea 
 Da gratiarum munera, 
 Dissolve litis vincula, 
 Astringe pacis foedera. 
 
 Per Te sciamus da Patrem, 
 Noscamus atque Filium ; 
 Teque utrisque Spiritum 
 Credamus omni tempore. 
 
88 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Sit laus Patri cum Filio 
 Sancto simul Paracleto 
 Nobisque mittat Filius 
 Charisma Sancti Spiritus. 
 
 Deo Patri sit gloria 
 Et Filio qui a mortuis 
 Surrexit, ac Paracleto, 
 In sseculorum ssecula. 
 
 We have given this hymn in its original 
 because it perhaps better than any other 
 hymn conveys from its Latinity alone the 
 impression that gives receptivity of spirit. 
 Read aloud, with due regard for pause and 
 stress, the Veni Creator Spiritus will create, 
 even in one utterly unable to translate the 
 words, a spirit of reverence and a desire 
 for spiritual elevation. The effect is height- 
 ened when one hears the poem well read, 
 and thrice heightened when its words come 
 to him in sonorous chant. The Veni Crea- 
 tor Spiritus has been the hymn of great 
 occasions. It is well called the coronation 
 hymn, for it has been used for a millennium 
 when the rulers of church and state were 
 elevated to office. It has been an inspira- 
 tion to countless millions, and today its 
 
Veni Creator Spiritus. 89 
 
 glory is as great as when it was given as a 
 light to the Dark Ages. The hymn has no 
 great translation — no translation, in fact, 
 that does not seriously detract from the 
 beauty of the original. The best known of 
 these settings over into English is the Dry- 
 den paraphrase. It begins : 
 
 Creator Spirit, by whose aid 
 
 The world's foundations first were laid, 
 
 Come visit every pious mind, 
 
 Come pour Thy joys on human kind; 
 
 From sin and sorrow set us free, 
 
 And make Thy temples worthy Thee. 
 
 A glance at the Latin version and then a 
 glance at this weak, though pious, stanza 
 makes us wish that all the world knew the 
 tongue of ancient Italy. As for ourselves 
 we prefer, because of its beauty, though we 
 regret the lack of fidelity to the original 
 text and its brutal eliminations, the fol- 
 lowing version : 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, 
 And lighten with celestial fire. 
 
 Thou the anointing Spirit art, 
 Who dost Thy sevenfold gift impart. 
 
90 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Thy blessed unction from above 
 Is comfort, life and fire of love. 
 
 Enable with perpetual light 
 
 The dullness of our blinded sight. 
 
 Annoint and cheer our soiled face 
 With the abundance of Thy grace. 
 
 Keep far out foes, give peace at home ; 
 Where Thou art guide, no ill can come. 
 
 Teach us to know the Father, Son, 
 And Thee, of both, to be but One. 
 
 That, through the ages all along, 
 This may be our endless song. 
 
 Praise to Thy eternal merit, 
 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 
 
VI. 
 
 TE DEUM LAUDAMUS. 
 
TE DEUM LAUDAMUS. 
 
 JT ARLIEST in the use of the Church, af- 
 ter the hymns from the Scriptures, 
 stands the Te Deum Laudamiis. Majestic 
 in its inception, imperial in its progress, it 
 has swept through the ages with such force 
 and power that we question if of all the 
 hymns of the Church there is one to rival 
 it in use and effect. Throughout the world, 
 wherever Christians gather to worship, 
 sound the heart-compelling strains of the 
 Te Deum; and wherever assemble those 
 who worship the name of Christ as the 
 name of God, there, on each day of prayer, 
 rise the words, if the congregation is of the 
 Roman comunion : 
 
 Te Deum laudamus : Te Dominurn confitemur. 
 
 Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur. 
 
 Tibi omnes angeli, tibi cceli et universal potestates. 
 
 Tibi cherubim et seraphim, incessabili voce pro- 
 clamant : 
 
 Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sa- 
 baoth. 
 
96 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 In thousands of places of worship where- 
 in the sonorous Latin tongue no longer has 
 place, there, too, the Te Deum Laudamus 
 rises to heaven, though in the words of that 
 English speech in which — no matter how 
 well the Latin has been set over — is retained 
 but a moiety of the beauty of the original 
 composition. In the present instance, how- 
 ever, the translation is in quality beyond 
 the standard of those other translations 
 which have been considered in our study of 
 the great hymns of the world. Those who 
 undertook the work of making the English 
 version of the Te Deum commonly used 
 were gifted beyond their companions in 
 hymnology, for they have in a remarkable 
 degree preserved not only the letter but the 
 spirit of the original Latin version — a ver- 
 sion which was based upon a Greek version 
 of unknown antiquity. The present transla- 
 tion, which we have come to know as we 
 know our Gloria in Excelsis and our Pater 
 Noster, in their English form, takes its 
 origin in the days when the prayerbook of 
 the Church of England was in process of 
 formation and the ecclesiastics of that 
 church were gathering from the treasury 
 
Te Deum Laudamus. 97 
 
 of the Roman communion all the jewels 
 that could be appropriated to the use of the 
 nationalized branch of the Catholic Church 
 in England. This version, hallowed by the 
 use of almost five centuries, runs : 
 
 We praise thee, O God : we acknowledge thee to 
 
 be the Lord. 
 All the earth doth worship thee; the Father ever- 
 lasting. 
 To thee all Angels cry aloud : the Heavens, and 
 
 all the Powers therein ; 
 To thee Cherubim and Seraphim : continually do 
 
 cry. 
 Holy, Holy, Holy : Lord God of Sabaoth ; 
 Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty: of 
 
 thy glory. 
 The glorious company of the Apostles : praise 
 
 thee. 
 The goodly fellowship of the Prophets : praise 
 
 thee. 
 The noble army of martyrs : praise thee. 
 The holy Church throughout all the world : doth 
 
 acknowledge thee; 
 The Father: of an infinite Majesty; 
 Thine adorable, true : and only Son ; 
 Also the Holy Ghost: the Comforter. 
 Thou art the King of Glory : O Christ. 
 
98 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Thou art the everlasting Son : of the Father. 
 When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man : 
 
 thou didst humble thyself to be born of a 
 
 Virgin. 
 
 When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of 
 
 death : Thou didst open the Kingdom of 
 
 Heaven to all believers. 
 Thou sittest at the right hand of God : in the 
 
 glory of the Father. 
 We believe that thou shalt come : to be our Judge. 
 We therefore pray thee, help thy servants: whom 
 
 thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood. 
 Make them to be numbered with thy saints; in 
 
 glory everlasting. 
 O Lord, save thy people : and bless thine heritage. 
 Govern them : and lift them up forever. 
 Day by day : we magnify thee ; 
 And we worship thy name : ever, world without 
 
 end. 
 Vouchsafe, O Lord : to keep us this day without 
 
 sin. 
 O Lord, have mercy upon us : have mercy upon us. 
 O Lord, have mercy upon us : as our trust is 
 
 in thee. 
 O Lord, in thee have I trusted : let me never be 
 
 confounded. 
 
 As has been pointed out by a learned 
 hymnologist, the English translation falls 
 
Te Deum Laudamus. 99 
 
 short of expressing the full meaning of the 
 Latin in three important instances. These 
 are, indeed, so plain that we may easily 
 point them out, and by so doing add to the 
 value of the Te Deum as a vehicle of praise 
 and prayer as well as a declaration of faith ; 
 for threefold are the attributes of the 
 hymns. An accepted text has the line, 
 
 Te Martyrum candidatus laudat exercitus, 
 
 which is rendered in English as : 
 
 The noble army of martyrs ; praise Thee. 
 
 This scarcely conveys the meaning of its 
 original, which has a dual reference, first 
 to "the dazzling festal robes of the Roman 
 noble," and second, to "the souls under the 
 altar, to whom were given w T hite robes ; to 
 the white-robed multitude who came out of 
 great tribulation and had washed their 
 robes and made them white in the blood of 
 the Lamb." The words, Tu as liberandum 
 suscepturus hominem, non horruisti vir- 
 ginis uterem, have been translated : "When 
 thou tookest upon thee to deliver man thou 
 didst humble thyself to be born of a vir- 
 
ioo Seven Great Hymns 
 
 gin." We must read the translation as we 
 may read the Latin, namely, that our Lord 
 not only came to deliver man, but that it 
 was by becoming man that He delivered 
 him. The third suggestion that we would 
 make refers to the line : Tu, devicto mortis 
 acuelo, aperuisti credentibus regna ccelo- 
 rum, or in English, "When thou hadst over- 
 come the sharpness of death Thou didst 
 open the Kingdom of Heaven to all be- 
 lievers." This translation falls just short 
 of conveying the full meaning of the Latin, 
 which not only sets forth the conquering by 
 Christ of death, but the further fact that 
 He plucked the sting from death, and that 
 henceforth it should have no terror for be- 
 lievers. 
 
 We may not indulge further in textual 
 criticism, great as is the temptation wher- 
 ever the question of the setting over of 
 hymns from the Latin is concerned. But 
 we connot resist the temptation to join our 
 voice to that of a devout hymnist, who says, 
 concerning the last line of the Te Deum: 
 "And as the echoes of the solemn chant die 
 away in the village church or cathedral 
 choir, the wish will sometimes arise that 
 
Te Deum Laudamus. ioi 
 
 the last sound left on the ear could be, 
 not the word 'confounded/ but as in the 
 Latin, the triumphant 'forever.' " 
 
 The Te Deum is one of a triad of hymns 
 which have come down from the first years 
 of the church. This triad, composed of the 
 Tersanctus, the Gloria in Excelsis and the 
 Te Deum, are known of all, and it cannot 
 be said that interest rests in the greater 
 hymn to a larger degree than it does in its 
 fellows, and yet it has been universally 
 recognized that the Te Deum stands apart 
 in its strength and beauty, that it is a hymn 
 of hymns, while its fellows are simply 
 hymns among hymns. The author of the 
 Te Deum is unknown, and it may be said 
 also that the year, and even the century, of 
 its composition is without certainty. We 
 know that the hymn was originally written 
 in Greek, and we are told by tradition 
 (which has many disputants) that if we 
 would have knowledge of its first use we 
 must go back 1,500 years in history — to the 
 night of Easter, 387, and to the city of 
 Milan and its great cathedral. On that 
 night a distinguished man whom Ambrose 
 had recently converted from heathenism, 
 
102 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 was baptized by St. Ambrose, the bishop of 
 the diocese. This was no less a person than 
 Augustine, afterward Bishop of Hippo, the 
 saint whose City of God and Confessions 
 are still read by thousands. On this night, 
 according to tradition, as these two Christ- 
 ian fathers — St. Ambrose, the officiating 
 prelate, and Augustine, the recent convert — 
 were standing by the altar the spirit of in- 
 spiration descended upon them, and they 
 sang, as it never had been sung before, the 
 Te Deum to the great congregation — sang 
 it in alternate strophes. Whereupon the 
 pious Monica, the mother of Augustine, 
 cried out in rapture : "O son, I had rather 
 have thee Augustine the Christian than Au- 
 gustine the Emperor !" This is the tradi- 
 tion, but, as has been pointed out by a 
 learned commentator, even if the tradition 
 is substantially true, the rendering at that 
 time was not a creation, but a welding, for 
 it is more than probable that the various 
 parts which now form, and which at the 
 time of which we write formed, the Te 
 Deum, existed in separate portions for many 
 years prior to the baptism of St. Augustine. 
 It is not until the seventh century that we 
 
Te Deum Laudamus. 103 
 
 can point with any degree of certainty to 
 the public use of the Te Deum, but this we 
 know — that from the day of its first certain 
 singing it sprang into immediate popularity, 
 and that the hold then gained in the Christ- 
 ian Church has grown stronger rather than 
 diminished with the pasing of the centuries. 
 We cannot point to the one Latin version 
 of the hymn and say, this is the original 
 text. In fact, the text differs notably in 
 the various groups into which the early 
 copies of the poem have been segregated. 
 For example, in accepted versions of the 
 hymn there are four different conclusions 
 and there is no one w T ho can say this or that 
 conclusion was first written. In whatever 
 form presented, however, the hymn com- 
 mands our admiration. It is well, how r ever, 
 to mention that were we to search for the 
 early version of this hymn, we would not 
 find it under the name of Te Deum, a name 
 which has been given to it from its opening 
 words. The title most frequently given in 
 early hymnals was: Hymnus in Die Domi- 
 nica ad Matutin, or Ad Matutin in Die Do- 
 minica. We find it entitled Hymnus in Die 
 Dominica, Hymnus in Matutinis and some- 
 
104 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 times as simply Hymnus. It has also been 
 called Hymnus Optimus, and Oratio Pura 
 Cum Laudatione and Hymnus Augustini. 
 But we need not go further in search for 
 names ; those we have quoted are sufficient, 
 and none of these will be used by us, for 
 throughout our life the great hymn has 
 been to us, as we pray it may be through 
 eternity — 
 
 Te Deum laudamus; Te Dominum confitemur! 
 
VII. 
 
 CANTEMUS CUNCTI. 
 
CANTEMUS CUNCTI. 
 
 HPHE season of Lent now draws to a close 
 — yet a little while and there comes 
 the day that saw upon Golgotha the supreme 
 sacrifice by which was given to a sinful 
 world a hope by which untold millions have 
 been lifted up. The memory of well-nigh 
 twenty centuries centers, as the Friday of 
 the Passion draws nigh, upon that field of 
 the skull where, high hung upon the cross, 
 was that figure whose life and death gave 
 salvation to the nations, and from whose 
 lips burst forth that cry, "Eli, Eli, lama 
 sabachthani ?" which will on Friday find 
 echo in thousands of temples, where serve 
 the priests of the faithful. On that great 
 day of suffering will be sung many hymns 
 of rare beauty, and from them we hesitate 
 to name the one most worthy of highest 
 rank, but none of these religious poems sur- 
 passes in devotional inspiration that beauti- 
 ful hymn by Saint Bernard, which in the 
 translation made by Sir H. W. Baker, in 
 1861, is: 
 
no Seven Great Hymns 
 
 O sacred Head surrounded, 
 By crown of piercing thorn! 
 
 bleeding Head, so wounded, 
 Reviled and put to scorn ! 
 
 Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee, 
 The glow of life decays, 
 
 Yet angel-hosts adore Thee, 
 And tremble as they gaze. 
 
 1 see Thy strength and vigor 
 All fading in the strife, 
 
 And death with cruel rigor 
 
 Bereaving Thee ofTife. 
 O agony and dying! 
 
 O love to sinners free ! 
 Jesu, all grace supplying, 
 
 Oh, turn Thy face on me. 
 
 In this, Thy bitter Passion, 
 
 Good Shepherd, think of me 
 With Thy most sweet compassion, 
 
 Unworthy though I be. 
 Beneath Thy cross abiding 
 
 Forever would I rest, 
 In Thy dear love confiding, 
 
 And with Thy presence blest. 
 
 Be near me when I am dying; 
 
 Oh, show Thy cross to me, 
 And to my succor flying, 
 
 Come, Lord, and set me free. 
 
Cantemus Cuncti. Ill 
 
 These eyes, new faith receiving, 
 
 From Jesus shall not move, 
 For he, who dies believing, 
 
 Dies safely through Thy love. 
 
 The dark hours of the Passion will pass 
 with the setting of Friday's sun, and then 
 the hearts of the faithful will be with Jo- 
 seph of Arimathea, as he takes from the 
 fatal tree that poor, worn body, over which 
 Pilate had placed the inscription, written in 
 letters of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew : 
 "This is the King of the Jews." The hour 
 then comes in which all that was mortal of 
 Jesus is wrapped in linen and laid in a 
 sepulcher which was hewn in stone, where- 
 in never man before was laid. And then 
 there comes the Sabbath, during which day 
 the Roman soldiers watch the sealed door 
 of the place where Jesus lies. With the 
 passing of that seventh day that brought 
 to an end a septenate of suffering, we come 
 to the glorious dawn which followed the 
 great earthquake in which the angel of the 
 Lord descended from heaven and came and 
 rolled back the stone from the door of the 
 tomb of Christ. With the coming of Easter 
 Day, Lent is done, and instead of sounds of 
 
ii2 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 mourning, the Christian world sends up 
 praise and thanksgiving from hearts which 
 cry: 
 
 He is risen ! He is risen ! 
 
 Tell it out with joyful voice: 
 He has burst His three days' prison : 
 
 Let the whole wide world rejoice: 
 Death is conquered, man is free, 
 
 Christ has won the victory. 
 
 But of all the hymns of gladness and re- 
 joicing, none compare with these formed 
 after the model of the great original of all 
 alleluiatic sequences, the Cantemus Cuncti, 
 of the monk Godeschalcus (Gottschalk), 
 who died in A. D. 860 a martyr to ill-in- 
 spired conviction. This sequence has been 
 the parent of hundreds of hymns of praise, 
 and, regrettably, furnished a medium, be- 
 cause of its adaptability to the purpose of 
 the parodist, to scores of scurrilous attacks 
 upon the Roman communion. But the 
 beauty of Godeschalcus' work and the spirit 
 of pure and joyous reverence it exhibits, 
 cause us to rank it in our canon of great 
 mediaeval hymns. The opening verses of an 
 original text which we quote below, fairly 
 glow with the flush of joyous ecstasy. 
 
Cantemus Cuncti. 113 
 
 I. Cantemus cuncti melodum nunc 
 
 Alleluia. 
 II. In laudibus aeterni regis haec plebs refulet, 
 
 Alleluia. 
 III. Hoc denique ccelestes chori cantent in altum 
 
 Alleluia. 
 
 IV. Hoc beautorum per prata paradisiaca psallat 
 
 concentus Alleluia. 
 
 V. Quin et astrorum micantia luminaria jubilent 
 
 altum Alleluia. 
 
 VI. Nubium cursus, ventorum volatus, fulgurum 
 coruscatio et tonitruum sonitus dulce 
 consonent simul. Alleluia. 
 
 These vibrant strains have, happily for 
 us, been caught and fixed in English in such 
 wise that we may say, and for the first time 
 in this series of articles, that the beauty 
 of the Latin loses nothing in the transposi- 
 tion of tongues, by Dr. Neale, the talented 
 hymnologist. Even the difficult fourth 
 verse is well rendered, as are also the yet 
 more difficult twentieth and twenty-first 
 verses, which are : 
 
 XX. Nunc omnes canite simul Alleluia domino, 
 Alleluia Christo pneumatique. 
 Alleluia! 
 XXL Laus Trinitati aeternae in babtismo domini 
 quae clarificatur ; Hinc canamus : 
 Alleluia ! 
 
H4 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 The translation by Dr. Neale is : 
 
 i. The strain upraise of joy and praise, Alleluia. 
 
 2. To the glory of their King 
 
 Shall the ransom'd people sing Alleluia. 
 
 3. And the Choirs that dwell on high 
 Shall re-echo through the sky Alleluia. 
 
 4. They through the fields of Paradise that roam 
 The blessed ones, repeat through that bright 
 
 home Alleluia. 
 
 5. The planets glitt'ring on their heavenly way, 
 The shining constellations, join, and say Al- 
 leluia. 
 
 6. Ye clouds that onward sweep ! 
 
 Ye winds on pinions light ! 
 Ye thunders, echoing loud and deep ! 
 Ye lightnings, wildly bright! 
 
 In sweet content unite your Alleluia. 
 
 7. Ye floods and ocean billows ! 
 
 Ye storms and winter snow ! 
 Ye days of cloudless beauty! 
 
 Hoar frost and summer glow ! 
 Ye groves that wave in spring, 
 
 And glorious forests, sing Alleluia. 
 
 8. First let the birds, with painted plumage gay, 
 Exalt their great Creator's praise, and say 
 
 Alleluia. 
 
 9. Then let the beasts of earth, with varying 
 
 strain, 
 
Cantemus Cuncti. 115 
 
 Join in Creation's Hymn, and cry again Al- 
 leluia. 
 
 10. Here let the mountains thunder forth, sonor- 
 
 ous, Alleluia. 
 
 11. There, let the valleys sing in gentler chorus, 
 
 Alleluia. 
 
 12. Thou jubilant abyss of ocean, cry Alleluia. 
 
 12. Ye tracts of earth and continents, reply Al- 
 leluia 
 
 14. To God, who all Creation made, 
 
 15. The frequent hymn be duly paid : Alleluia. 
 
 16. This is the strain, the eternal strain, the Lord 
 
 of all things loves : Alleluia. 
 
 17. This is the song, the heav'nly song, that 
 
 Christ Himself approves : Alleluia. 
 
 18. Wherefore we sing, both heart and voice 
 
 awaking, Alleluia. 
 
 19. And children's voices echo, answer making, 
 
 Alleluia. 
 
 20. Now from all men be out-pour'd 
 Aleluia to the Lord ; 
 
 With Alleluia evermore 
 
 The Son and Spirit we adore. 
 
 21. Praise be done to the Three in One. 
 Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
 
 Following the Cantemus Cuncti came 
 many hymns using this form and breathing 
 
n6 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 its spirit. These have been divided, in sev- 
 eral hymnals, into classes appropriate to 
 seasons of the Christian year. Following 
 the arrangement adopted in one of the best 
 known of these collections, we find that 
 Eastertide has a group of alleluiatic hymns 
 of singular sweetness. The first of these 
 is of unknown authorship, but its date has 
 been fixed with more or less certainty as of 
 the fourteenth century. Its words have, in 
 the English version, had a wide popularity 
 and it stands today among the most widely 
 sung of Easter hymns. Its first verse is : 
 
 Jesus Christ is risen today, 
 Our triumphant holy day, 
 Who did once upon the cross 
 Suffer to redeem our loss. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 The next Easter hymn derived from the 
 alleluiatic sequence, in point of date of ori- 
 gin, is that written in 1531 by Michael 
 Weisse. Its first verse is : 
 
 Christ the Lord is risen again ; 
 Christ hath broken every chain ; 
 Hark, angelic voices cry, 
 Singing evermore on high. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 
Cantemus Cuncti. 117 
 
 The next century saw in the Cluniac 
 Breviary, in the year 1686, a new Easter 
 hymn, a poem of unusual religious merit 
 and not of slight literary merit and of uni- 
 versal appeal. The opening stanza of this 
 hymn is : 
 
 Morn's roseate hues have decked the sky, 
 The Lord has risen with victory; 
 Let earth be glad, and raise the cry. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 Another hymn of an approximate cen- 
 turial date and of unknown authorship has 
 long had place in the service of the Prot- 
 estant Church. It opens thus : 
 
 The strife is o'er, the battle done ; 
 The victory of life is won ; 
 The song of triumph has begun. 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 The succeeding century — the seventeenth 
 — gave in 1757 a hymn of wide use and of 
 merit in Gellert's words : 
 
 Jesus lives ! thy terrors now 
 Can no longer, death, appall us; 
 
 Jesus lives ! by this we know 
 
 Thou, O grave, canst not enthrall us. 
 Alleluia ! 
 
n8 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 We may not, however, quote more of 
 these hymns, save to give the first lines of 
 some of the more important of them. At 
 Ascentiontide is sung: Hail the Day that 
 Sees Him Rise * * * Alleluia; on Whit- 
 sunday: To Thee, O Comforter Divine, 
 * * * sing we Alleluia. On occasions of the 
 funeral of a child is sometimes used : Let 
 no Hopeless Tears be Shed * * * Alleluia. 
 Other hymns of this alleluiatic succession 
 may be found under the first lines of : Lord 
 of the Harvest, it is Right and Meet; To 
 Him Who for Our Sins was Slain; Sing 
 Alleluia Forth in Duteous Praise, and 
 Above the Clear Blue Sky. All these hymns 
 have the refrain, Alleluia. This word is 
 from the Hebrew word meaning Praise Ye 
 Jehovah. In Hebrew usage it was not con- 
 fined to doxological usage. It was some- 
 times used at the beginning, sometimes at the 
 end, of religious compositions, as a form- 
 ula of praise. Among the examples of this 
 double use may be cited Psalms 106 and 
 117. The Psalms furnish abundant exam- 
 ples of both usages. The nineteenth chapter 
 of Revelation also affords examples of the 
 Hebraic use. 
 
Cantemus Cuncti. 119 
 
 We have now reached the close of the 
 series of articles upon the great hymns of 
 the church. We have limited our considera- 
 tion to what may be called the mediaeval 
 period of written history. However care- 
 ful we have been in our seleciton, we are 
 conscious that some of our readers will 
 miss a favorite hymn, but our choice has 
 been based upon the concensus of authori- 
 ties, and we feel that it is justified. If we 
 limit our article to seven great hymns, we 
 shall omit a Greek hymn of rare beauty that 
 demands inclusion in our canon, and we 
 therefore give as the last of the poems which 
 we present at this Lenten season the hymn 
 which Dr. Neale has so beautifully trans- 
 lated from the hymn which, in the ninth 
 century, was written by a monk of the com- 
 munity of Mar Saba : 
 
 Art thou weary, art thou languid, 
 
 x\rt thou sore distrest? 
 "Come to Me," saith One, "and coming, 
 Be at rest." 
 
 Hath He marks to lead me to Him, 
 
 If He be my guide? 
 "In His feet and hands are wound-prints, 
 And His side." 
 
120 Seven Great Hymns 
 
 Is there diadem, as monarch, 
 
 That His brow adorns? 
 "Yea, a crown, in very surety, 
 But of thorns." 
 
 If I find Him, if I follow, 
 What His guerdon here? 
 "Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
 Many a tear." 
 
 If I still hold closely to Him, 
 What hath He at last? 
 "Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
 Jordan past." 
 
 If I ask Him to receive .me 
 Will He say me nay? 
 "Not till earth, and not till heaven 
 Pass away." 
 
 Finding, following, keeping, struggling, 
 
 Is He sure to bless? 
 Saints, apostles, prophets, martyrs 
 
 Answer, "Yes." 
 
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