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Prudentius: Hymn For Those Who Fast - Stone - 03-01-2021 Hymn For Those Who Fast
O Jesus, Light of Bethlehem,True Son of God, Incarnate Word; Thou offspring of a Virgin's womb, Be present at our frugal board; Accept our fast, our sacrifice, And smile upon us, gracious Lord. For by this holiest mystery The inward parts are cleansed from stain, And, taming all the unbridled lusts, Our sinful flesh we thus restrain, Lest gluttony and drunkenness Should choke the soul and cloud the brain. Hence appetite and luxury Are forced their empire to resign; The wanton sport, the jest obscene, The ignoble sway of sleep and wine, And all the plagues of languid sense Feel the strict bonds of discipline. For if, full fed with meat and drink, The flesh thou ne'er dost mortify, The mind, that spark of sacred flame, By pleasure dulled, must fail and die, And pent in its gross prison-house The soul in shameful torpor lie. So be thy carnal lusts controlled, So be thy judgment clear and bright; Then shall thy spirit, swift and free, Be gifted with a keener sight, And breathing in an ampler air To the All-Father pray aright. Elias by such abstinence, Seer of the desert, grew in grace, Who left the madding haunts of men And found a peaceful resting-place, Where, far from sinful crowds, he trod The pure and silent wilderness. Till by those fiery coursers drawn The swift car bore him through the air, Lest earth's defiling touch should mar The holiness it might not share, Or some polluting breath disturb The peace attained by fast and prayer. Moses, through whom from His dread throne The will of God to man was told, No food might touch till through the sky The sun full forty times had rolled, Ere God before him stood revealed, Lord of the heavens sevenfold. Tears were his meat, while bent in prayer Through the long night he bowed his head E'en to the thirsty dust, that drank The drops in bitter weeping shed; Till, at God's call, he saw the flame No eye may bear, and was afraid. The Baptist, too, was strong in fast -- Forerunner in a later day Of God's Eternal Son -- who made The byepaths plain, the crooked way A road direct, wherein His feet Might travel on without delay. This was the messenger's great task Who for God's advent zealously Prepared the way, the rough made smooth, The mountain levelled to the sea; That, when Truth came from heaven to earth, All fair and straight His path should be. He was not born in common wise, For dry and wrinkled was the breast Of her that bare him late in years, Nor found she from her labour rest, Till she had hailed with lips inspired The Maid with unborn Godhead blest. For him the hairy skins of beasts Furnished a raiment rude and wild, As forth into the lonely waste He fared, an unbefriended child, Who dwelt apart, lest he should be By evil city-life defiled. There, vowed to abstinence, he grew To manhood, and with stern disdain He turned from meat and drink, until He saw night's shadow fall again; And locusts and the wild bees' store Sufficed his vigour to sustain. The first was he to testify Of that new life which man might win; In Jordan's consecrating stream He purged the stains of ancient sin, And, as he made the body clean, The radiant Spirit entered in. Forth from the holy tide they came Reborn, from guilt's pollution free, As bright from out the cleansing fire Flows the rough gold, or as we see The glittering silver, purged of dross, Flash into polished purity. Now let us tell, from Holy Writ, Of olden fasts the fairest crown; How God in pity stayed His hand, And spared a doomed and guilty town, In clemency the flames withheld And laid His vengeful lightnings down. A mighty race of ancient time Waxed arrogant in boastful pride; Debauched were they, and borne along On foul corruption's loathsome tide, Till in their stiff-necked self-conceit They e'en the God of Heaven denied. At last Eternal Mercy turns To righteous judgment, swift and dire; He shakes the clouds; the mighty sword Flames in His hand, and in His ire He wields the roaring hurricane 'Mid murky gloom and flashing fire. Yet in His clemency He grants To penitence a brief delay, That they might burst the bonds of lust And put their vanities away; His sentence given, He waits awhile And stays the hand upraised to slay. To warn them of the wrath to come The Avenger in His mercy sent Jonah the seer; but, -- though he knew The threatening Judge would fain relent Nor wished to strike, -- towards Tarshish town The prophet's furtive course was bent. As up the galley's side he climbed, They loosed the dripping rope, and passed The harbour bar: then on them burst The sudden fury of the blast; And when their peril's cause they sought, The lot was on the recreant cast. The man whose guilt the urn declares Alone must die, the rest to save; Hurled headlong from the deck, he falls And sinks beneath the engulfing wave, Then, seized by monstrous jaws, is plunged Into a vast and living grave. * * * * * At last the monster hurls him forth, As the third night had rolled away; Before its roar the billows break And lash the cliffs with briny spray; Unhurt the wondering prophet stands And hails the unexpected day. Thus turned again to duty's path To Nineveh he swiftly came, Their lusts rebuked and boldly preached God's judgment on their sin and shame; "Believe!" he cried, "the Judge draws nigh Whose wrath shall wrap your streets in flame." Thence to the lofty mount withdrew, Where he might watch the smoke-cloud lower O'er blasted homes and ruined halls, And rest beneath the shady bower Upspringing in swift luxury Of twining tendril, leaf and flower. But when the guilty burghers heard The impending doom, a dull despair Possessed their souls; proud senators, Poor craftsmen, throng the highways fair; Pale youth with tottering age unites, And women's wailing rends the air. A public fast they now decree, If they may thus Christ's anger stay: No food they touch: each haughty dame Puts silken robes and gems away, In sable garbed, and ashes casts Upon her tresses' disarray. In dark and squalid vesture clad The Fathers go: the mourning crowd Dons rough attire: in shaggy skins Enwrapped, fair maids their faces shroud With dusky veils, and boyish heads E'en to the very dust are bowed. The King tears off his jewelled brooch And rends the robe of Coan hue; Bright emeralds and lustrous pearls Are flung aside, and ashes strew The royal head, discrowned and bent, As low he kneels God's grace to sue. None thought to drink, none thought to eat; All from the table turned aside, And in their cradles wet with tears Starved babes in bitter anguish cried, For e'en the foster-mother stern To little lips the breast denied. The very flocks are closely penned By careful hands, lest they should gain Sweet water from the babbling stream Or wandering crop the dewy plain; And bleating sheep and lowing kine Within their barren stalls complain. Moved by such penitence, full soon God's grace repealed the stern decree And curbed His righteous wrath; for aye, When man repents, His clemency Is swift to pardon and to hear His children weeping bitterly. Yet wherefore of that bygone race Should we anew the story tell? For Christ's pure soul by fasting long The clogging bonds of flesh did quell; He Whom the prophet's voice foretold As GOD WITH US, Emmanuel. Man's body -- frail by nature's law And bound by pleasure's easy chain -- He freed by virtue's strong restraint, And gave it liberty again: He broke the bonds of flesh, and Lust Was driven from his old domain. Deep in the inhospitable wild For forty days He dwelt alone Nor tasted food, till, thus prepared, All human weakness overthrown By fasting's power, His mortal frame Rejoiced the spirit's sway to own. The Adversary, marvelling To see this creature of a day Endure such toil, spent all his guile To learn if God in human clay Had come indeed; but soon rebuked Behind His back fled shamed away. Therefore let each with all his might Follow the way the Master taught, The law of consecrated life Which Christ unto His servants brought; Till, with the lusts of flesh subdued, The spirit reigns o'er act and thought. 'Tis this our jealous foe abhors, 'Tis this the Lord of earth and sky Approves; by this the soul is made Thy holy altar, God Most High: Faith stirs within the slumbering heart And sin's corroding power must fly. Swifter than water quenches fire, Swifter than sunshine melts the snow, Crushed out by soul-restoring fast Vanish the sins that rankly grow, If hand in hand with Abstinence Sweet Charity doth ever go. This too is Virtue's noble task, To clothe the naked, and to feed The destitute, with kindly care To visit sufferers in their need; For king and beggar each must bear The lot by changeless Fate decreed. Happy the man whose good right hand Seeks but God's praise, and flings his gold Broadcast, nor lets his left hand know The gracious deed; for wealth untold Shall crown him through eternal years With usury an hundredfold. |