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Paschal Song

Sedulius, tr. Sigerson, 1922; selections

The first of Man, by ruthless serpent castFrom Eden’s flowerful seat, woeful, at lastIn …

The first of Man, by ruthless serpent cast
From Eden’s flowerful seat, woeful, at last
In lures of pleasant taste drank bitter death;
Nor he alone, presumptuous cause of wrath,
Fell ’neath the mortal law, but all of Man
The sequent race, who all in him began.¹

Ah, guilty spouse—who wrought the greater ill,
Thou, or the loathly snake’s perfidious will?
Guilty the serpent, but not guiltless thou,
Alas, the double crime—eternal now!

The growing Race begins, and soon decays
With seed of ruin sown—where now the days
Of numerous life?—where now on earth behold
The happy sires of centuries manifold
Whom sons in ten succeeding lines enfold?

The Race doth know itself no more: by Fate
Irreparable conquered, its estate
Brought low, and through long lapsing times of strife
Nought may endure, enclosed in short’ning life:—
Nor Hope bring turning help, for nought could save
The future nations from the primal grave
Had not the loving Lord, forgiving all—
(Lest that His handiwork a ruin fall,
And what was made His image by His breath,
Should be unlikened by the taint of Death)—
Redeemed the world and caused the fruit, which SO

Set their sons’ teeth on edge, its pain forgo,
Where Guilt gave Death now Love would Life bestow!

As from sharp thorns there springs, all soft and pure
The Rose, which doth its mother’s self obscure
With honour fair, so sacred Mary came:
From stock of Eve and cleansed away her shame.

Man’s sullied nature in Death’s empire lay
Till, through Christ’s birth, new birth all Mankind may
Secure, and ancient taint put quite away.

What new Light to the World—to Heaven what Grace!
What Splendour, when, through Mary, to our race
Came Christ with glory new, as comes again
The Bridegroom, fairer than the sons of men,
His lips more sweet and graced than ever spoke!
O easy love, for Him who, lest the yoke
Of mastering sin should hold the soul a slave,
Assumed a servant’s form—even He, who gave
Their every garb to all things that have birth,
Conceals His Majesty in garb of earth:—
Whom not the greatness of the mighty deep,
Nor all the land of all the Earth could keep,
Nor spacious vault above, our God confest—
Lo, in a manger lies, a child at rest!

Hail, holy Mother, thou who’st borne the King
Who Heav’n and Earth upholds and everything
Embracing, is Eternal, Infinite!
Thou, with a Virgin’s honour, the delight
Of Motherhood hast owned: there hath not been
Thy like on earth, nor ever shall be seen,
Sole pleasing Christ, incomparable queen!

Then to the simple Shepherds in the night
The Angel Choir sang first the wonder bright—
For Lamb He was and Shepherd true, of right,
The while o’er Bethlehem such signs appear
The eager Magi came and, with strange fear
Alarmed the Tyrant, ever questioning
Where in Judea was its new-born King?
For in the East a Planet shone, and far
Had led where now would shine His radiant Star.

Then sped the Magi, following the light,
In heav’n set, that royal Star and bright,
And kept their chosen way, where future law,
To that blest home, adoring hosts should draw.

Their Treasure, open in their hands, they bring
In fealty:—this Gold for offering
Is made as gift unto the new-born King,
To God that Incense, for the Tomb that Myrrh.

Why triple gifts? Because Hope’s harbinger,
Our Faith, the triple number doth enfold,
As God doth Future, Present, Past, behold—
Is always, ever hath been, will endure,
Triune for aye.

Admonished by a pure
Celestial dream, the faithful Magi spurn
The ord’ring Tyrant; and forthwith return
To Fatherland. So too if we would know
Our Holy Fatherland, to Christ when so
We come, we must no more to evil go.

His hope undone, now raves the impious king
In raging wrath—if king we call that thing
Who justice lacks nor rules his passions right.

So raves a lion, fierce from hunger’s spite,
When from his jaws the tender lamb takes flight.
He rushes on the harmless flock amain
To rend, to mangle:—O’er the bloody plain
The air is filled with bleating cries in vain.

Thus ruthless Herod, when his prey he lost,
Let loose red Murder on the harmless host
Of Bethlem’s babes.

Why die this multitude?
Their lips, scarce oped to breathe, are choked in blood!
Not reason, Fury rules the king, who slays
The first weak wail of Life—nor slaughter stays
Till guiltless thousands fall. One fearful cry—
A thousand Mothers’ shriek!—assails the sky.
One tears the tresses from her head—one rends
Her cheeks—one smites her naked chest, one bends,—

Ah, hapless Mother! ’tis no mother’s breast
Upon the cold lips of thy child thou’st prest!

What were thy feelings, butcher, gazing down
From lofty tower upon the slaughtered town?
What thrilled thee when, through all the shudd’ring sky
Despairing sounds and shrieks arose on high?

Though absent from the slain, yet Christ was there
Who all the dangers of His saints doth share
And feels, Himself, each blow that others bear.

Now, when twelve years of human life had passed
He came within the Temple, and was seen
In wisdom older than the Elders; He
Mid Masters of the Law a Master stood.
Nor did the close of Youth delay. What does
A world, flying through time, know of delay?
Six lustres nearly, when to peaceful Jordan
He comes to get what He had come to give.
Him when the Baptist from the stream beheld,
Whom he, within His mother’s womb, unborn,
Had recognised, though closed as yet the prophet’s
Lips, which now bore witness crying aloud:
“Behold the Lamb of God, Who taketh away
The sins of the World.”

That which I, not He
Had, that He takes—the ill He has not done
But has undone! As when a brilliant light
Shines through the clouds, and with its ray serene
Undimmed, drives shadows from the unharmed face,
The Saviour thus, expelling all our faults,
Cleanses and makes each stain to disappear.

Then in the flowing stream He entered, pure,
So washed our lives’ contagions all away—
He naught having of that He lost—the torrent
Itself was cleansèd by His sacred form,
Its wave made by His presence consecrate.

The elements discerned their God—the Sea
Retired—back toward its source the River rolled.
So sang the Prophet: “Wherefore fly, O Sea!
And Jordan thou, why draw thy waters back?”

Emerging from the water’s mystic gift
He trod the strand, when lo! the Heav’ns oped—
To glorify Him came the Holy Ghost
Descending as a dove (which has no gall,
Thus teaching sweetness), and from Heav’n came
A Voice, saying: “This is My belovèd Son
In whom I am well pleased.” Thus is declared
The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there
One only God by threefold reason proved.

Then having borne for forty days and nights
The Fast, still with the Holy Spirit filled,
The Tempter came to Him, with art insidious
Armed, and falsely off’ring a phantom feast:—
“If thou’dst appear the Son of God,” he said,
“Then bid this stone to bread be sudden changed.”

As though such marvel He did not, all days,
Perform, who to Earth’s stony breast gives power
In wheaten grain to fructify, and bread
From rock creates. Then the Redeemer’s voice
Repelling said: “Man doth not live by bread
Alone, but by every word of God.”

Stricken, the Foe new arms in venom sought
And from a mountain showed Him all the world’s
Rich Kingdoms thence outspread. “All these,” he said,
“I give, if thou’lt bow down and worship me.”

Perverse the speaker, and perverse the speech,
That He seek honours of frail kingdoms here
Who wins for man Eternity!—that He
Bow down to wretch unspeakable, Whose throne
O’ertops the Ether, Earth His footstool is,
Whom none perceives, Whose praise high Heaven sings!

Christ answered to the Tempter, “It is written:
Thou shalt adore the Lord thy God. Him only
Shalt thou serve.”

Defeated still, still he dares
With will superb, to wage the futile fray,
Thrice rising proud to be thrice thrown to earth.
For, next, above the Holy City, he
Placed Christ upon the Temple’s highest peak
And said: “If thou wouldst seem the Son of God
Cast thyself down, for Scripture has declared
Thou shalt go safe on angels’ arms upborne
Lest thou shouldst strike thy foot against a stone.”

How blind a mind within how black a heart—
By its own clouds obscured, to think the height
Of Temple or its lofty pinnacle
Should Him dismay, Who bow’d the mighty members
Of highest Heaven; and, borne thro’ all the skies
To Earth’s extreme of lowliness, descends—
Who sought the low, nor did the lofty leave.

But Satan, by the true Word’s glaive transpierced,
“’Tis writ, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God,”
Fled, moaning, from the Victor’s face. Then came
All Heaven’s Princes, and the Shining Hosts
Of Angels came and ministered to Christ.

Then we are made present at the choosing of the Disciples:

He chose them first from Fishers, apt to fish
For human souls, which slippery joys enmesh,
As buoyant billows that uplift the head
Then bear it down, precipitate, and dead;
These His Disciples were, these He did teach
Of life eterne, whom windy pride of speech
Filled not, nor vanity of birth: they came
In lowly minds refulgent, and mute fame—
Kindred of Heaven! for He the Weak would choose
To break the Mighty and the Wise confuse.

Now, therefore, showing swift Salvation’s way,
The Judge benign His people taught to pray,
To briefly ask that they might quick obtain:
“Our Father” saying—ours, by baptism’s gain,
His own by right: His honour thus He gave,
What He alone possessed this all might have,
Rememb’ring God our Father is, in Him
We all should brothers be—not through the dim
Sad bond of Flesh original, but flame
Of spiritual Fire, to end our shame—
And don the new man lest we, who have been,
Through Christ, adopted sons of that serene
High Father, fall, degenerate, terrene.

Where hallowed should He be, Who every part
Has hallowed? Where, unless in the pure heart!
That we might hallowed by our worship grow
He first Himself permits, and orders so
That we bless Him who blesses all below.
His Kingdom come: that Kingdom all so fair!
Where end is none, nor Death is anywhere,
Nor changing times deplorable, nor Night
O’ermasters Day; where reigns our Prince of Light,
And Victor Victims throng rejoicing round,
Their noble brows with crowns eternal crowned!

With constant vows, by noon, we pray, and night,
His Will be done on Earth as in the light
Of Heaven—who nor sin would have, nor fell
Assault of foe, malign, implacable:
Lest bodies now tow’rd Heaven drawn, anew
Revoked on Earth, might in the thraldom rue:—
Who, all things fostering with love, would even
Preserve the body with the soul ’twas given—
One part of earth we are, and one of Heaven!

We hope the Food of Faith—our daily bread—
Lest that of Truth our minds be hungerèd,
And fast from Christ, Who feeds us with His Word
And Body: He, the Food, the Word—our Lord!
How cleaves His speech delectable, which comes
More sweet than honey in the honeycombs!

We ask Forgiveness as we do not fail
Ourselves to pardon debts; He holds us bail,
Our word, His ward—more strictly bound if we
(Released ourselves) another will not free.
Should He—a thousand pounds forgiving—find
We nothing bate, but for a crown will grind
Some wretch; forthwith the Judgment falls, and cast
In dungeon dire we bide in bondage fast
Till all be paid, the uttermost and last.

Our Lord—the Way of Light, of Peace the Path—
No tempter’s snare will spread, but when He hath
Our evil left, He leaves us go—who loves
The world’s soft lures, its pomp and pride, approves
Perdition’s path: the Lover of all Good
Leaves him to go the downward way he would.
Let us step back, and seek ere it be late,
In heart, that rougher path which leads, though strait,
To climes celestial through the Narrow Gate!

If man would Evil shun, advancing, we
Must follow Good—that fetters, this makes free,
This nourishes, that kills; remoter far
Than fire from water, light from darkness, star
From Earth, from discords peace, and all
Abounding Life from the sepulchral pall,
Is Good from Evil. Lo, before the eye
Two paths, to right and left diverging, lie:
One calls the Just unto the joys above—
Thy welcome, Abram! and thy breast of love—
One takes the guilty to their punishment.
God’s Sole Will and good Liberty are meant
That all His Flock should, wolf-escaped, keep tryst
And live in joy amid the meads of Christ.²

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