GOD of mercy! what a wond’rous wonder!
Such a wonder ne’er before was witness’d.
In Saint Paul’s—within the holy cloister,
Gather’d round a golden table, seated
In three ranks, the saints are all collected;
O’er them sits the thunderer Elias; {81a}
In the midst are Sava and Maria;
At the ends are Petka and Nedelia;
And their health the holy Nicholas pledges,
Pledges them their health to Jesus’ glory. {81b}
But behold, behold the saint!—he slumbers;
From his hand the cup of wine has fallen,
Fallen from it on the golden table:
Yet the wine’s unspilt,—the cup unbroken.
Then laugh’d out the thunderer Elias:
“O my brother! O thou holy Nicholas:
Often drank we cooling wine together;
But it was our duty not to slumber,
Not to drop the cup—And tell me, brother,
Why to-day does slumber’s power subdue thee?”
Him thus answer’d Nicholas the holy:
“Jest not thus with me, thou sainted thunderer!
For I fell asleep, and dreamt three hundred,
Dreamt three hundred friars had embark’d them
In one vessel on the azure ocean;
Bearing offerings to the holy mountain,
Offerings,—golden wax, and snowy incense.
From the clouds there broke a furious tempest,
Lash’d the blue waves of the trembling ocean,
Scooping watery graves for all the friars.
Then I heard their blended voices call me,
‘Help, O God! and help, O holy Nicholas!
Would that thou, where’er thou art, wert with us!’
So I hurried down to help the suppliants—
So I saved the whole three hundred friars—
So I shipped them full of joy and courage;
Brought their offerings to the holy mountain,
Brought their golden wax, their snowy incense;—
And meanwhile I seem’d in gentle slumber,
And my cup fell on the golden table.”