_In die resurrectionis dominicae venit ad sepulchrum Magdalena ferens
aromata._
Quin et tu quoque busta tui Phoenicis adora;
Tu quoque fer tristes, mens mea, delicias.
Si nec aromata sunt, nec quod tibi fragrat amomum;
Qualis Magdalina est messis odora manu.
Est quod aromatibus praestat, quod praestat amomo:
Haec tibi mollicula, haec gemmea lacrymula.
Et lacryma est aliquid: neque frustra Magdala flevit:
Sentiit haec, lacrymas non nihil esse suas.
His illa, et tunc cum Domini caput iret amomo,
Invidiam capitis fecerat esse pedes.
Nunc quoque cum sinus huic tanto sub aromate sudet,
Plus capit ex oculis, quo litet, illa suis.
Christe, decent lacrymae: decet isto rore rigari
Vitae hoc aeternum mane tuumque diem.
_On the day of our Lord's resurrection, the Magdalene bearing spices
cometh to the sepulchre._ Marc. xvi. 1; Luc. xxiv. 1.
Come thou too, thou; kneel by thy Phoenix' tomb;
Bring thy poor offerings too, my soul, and come.
With thee no herbs and fragrant spice are seen--
Such odorous tribute gave the Magdalene;
But these--no herbs nor spices equal them--
These little liquid drops, each tear a gem.
One tear is much: thine did not fall in vain,
Sweet Magdalene; thou knewest the tears were gain.
With these--her Lord's head in amomum laid--
The humble feet the head's despair she made.
Now, while her breast moist with such fragrance lies,
She in a strife draws sweeter from her eyes.
Lord Christ, these tears are well: well fits it too
Life's everlasting morn drip with such dew. A.