_In die ascensionis dominicae._ Act. i. 9, 10.
Usque etiam nostros te, Christe, tenemus amores?
Heu, coeli quantam hinc invidiam patimur!
Invidiam patiamur: habent sua sidera coeli,
Quaeque comunt tremulas crispa tot ora faces;
Phoebenque et Phoebum, et tot pictae vellera nubis,
Vellera, quae rosea Sol variavit acu.
Quantum erat, ut sinerent hac una nos face ferri?
Una sit hic: sunt et sint ibi mille faces.
Nil agimus: nam tu quia non ascendis ad illum,
Aether[85] descendit, Christe, vel ipse tibi.
{Nyn eti hemeteron se, Christe, echomen ton erota?
Ouranou oun hosson ton phthonon hos echomen;
Alla echomen. echei hea men ta d' agalmata aither,
Astra te kai Phoibon kai kala ton nephelon.
Hosson een, hemin ophr' eie hen tode astron?
Astron hen hemin e; eisi toi astr' hekaton.
Panta maten. hoti, Christe, sy ouk anebaines es auton,
Autos men katebe ouranos eis se teos.}
_On the day of the Lord's ascension._
Still do we keep Thee here, O Christ, our Love?
Ah, envy much we gain from Heaven above!
But be it so: Heaven is with stars a-blaze,
And countless orbs that trick their tremulous rays:
Moon, sun, and colour'd clouds, a fleecy store,
By Evening's rosy touch embroider'd o'er.
'Twere little they should leave one light below:
Let one be here, a thousand there may glow.
'Tis vain: since Thou ascendest not on high,
To Thee, O Christ, descends the very sky. R. WI.