_In Pharisaeos Christi verbis insidiantes._ Matt. xxii. 15.
O quam te miseri ludunt vaga taedia voti,
Ex ore hoc speras qui, Pharisaee, malum!
Sic quis ab Aurorae noctem speraverit ulnis,
Unde solet primis Sol tener ire rosis?
Sic Acheronta petas illinc unde amne corusco
Lactea sydereos Cynthia lavit equos.
Sic violas aconita roges: sic toxica nympham,
Garrula quae vitreo gurgite vexat humum.
Denique, ut exemplo res haec propriore patescat,
A te sic speret quis, Pharisaee, bonum?
_The Pharisees insidiously watching the words of Christ._
O self-baffl'd Pharisee,
Vainly dost thou weary thee,
Hoping at His holy mouth
To catch other than the Truth:
Stainless, holy, pure is He,
Guileless as Simplicity.
Who would e'er expect black Night
In the bosom of the Light,
When the young sun in splendour burns,
And the dawn to roses turns?
Who, again, would seek to mark
Acheron plunging i' the dark,
Where white Cynthia's starry steeds
Lave them by the glitt'ring meads?
Who would aconite think to get
From the fragrant violet?
Or, watching by the babbling rill
Gushing in pureness from the hill,
Think thence poison to distil?
In fine, instance nearer thee--
Would any ever hope to see
Aught of good in Pharisee? G.