Another new poem, YAY!

(haha) This one was inspired by a beautiful Spanish poem, the Hymn to the Coming Messiah, begging Our Lord to return to us. I have made more than one attempt to translate it, but it is coming very slowly! The language is so complicated that even in the richness of English it's hard to match the wonder of the Spanish. However, taking the theme and the rhythm and rhyme scheme, I came up with

Veni, Domine

Look downward, Master dear,
From Thy great throne on high,
And hear our lonely cry,
In a thousand dreadful fears;
For we wander in this drear,
Dreadful night of death and sin,
And our wailing, weak and thin,
Rises from this vale of tears.

O, many a day have we
Pleaded Thee to come to us,
And save from the treacherous
Foes who fain would drag us down;
We fight the raging sea
And, struggling, blind, dismayed,
We call on Thy mighty aid,
Without which we all must drown.

O Lord, Who in Galilee
The raging storm didst still
And, coming, didst fulfill
Every prophecy of yore,
By the Cross of Calvary
And the Blood Thou there didst spill,
Come, O Lord, from Heaven's hill -
Come and save us all once more!

St. Pius the Tenth!

Yes, yes, I know I am two days late. Three it'll be by the time anyone reads this, I'm sure. But anyway, here is the poem I wrote Wednesday for our Fathers of the SSPX.

ST. PIUS THE TENTH

Upon this fair Wednesday
Is Pius the Ten's day,
A wonderful Pope and great Saint;
And I think that never
Was such a fool, ever,
As him who dares say that he ain't.

He grew up, quite lowly,
And ever-so-holy,
In Riese, in fair Italy;
And since priests were needed
Our Lord's call he heeded
And went to the seminary.

He would have desired
(This priest so inspired),
A meek parish priest for to stay;
But the Pope didn't think so,
And quick as two winks-o,
A Cardinal made him one day!

When the Pope was interred
An election occurred,
And although our saint said, "O nope!"
And he wept and he pleaded,
His prayer was not heeded
And so he became the new Pope!

This Pope, the Church ruling,
Was awesome - no fooling!
No nonsense this Pope would permit;
He kept the Ship sailing,
O'er evil prevailing;
Which pleased our old Foe not one bit!

He kept up his labors
And gained many favors
From Heaven for his people below;
His kind benediction
Consoled in affliction;
His death left the Church full of woe.

But from the high heaven
His blessing is given
To those who do call on him still;
And to us whose cry is
"Come aid us, St. Pius,"
He listens, and he always will.

He guards with great piety
His namesake Society;
His sons he safeguards and protects;
And with eloquence fair
He echoes our prayer:
"May God bless the SSPX!"

A new sonnet

Firstly, happy feastday to all you Stephens out there -- today's the feast of St. Stephen of Hungary!

Secondly, here is a new sonnet. The idea for this came to me at Mass, actually, not Benediction; but the picture in my head turned into this poem.

I gaze upon the altar far below,
The candles glimmering in the smoky haze,
And at the glorious crown of golden rays
That circles round what is God's self, I know.
And looking on the shining loveliness
Of the great monstrance holding Jesus there,
I cannot help but suddenly compare
The monstrance with one whom all nations bless -
The Maiden who is yet our Mother, and
The star of hope that leads us through the night,
That Christ in her pure body once did hold;
And now, at last, I come to understand
The name we give her, like a ray of light;
No wonder we call Mary "House of Gold!"

-- September 2, 2008
St. Stephen of Hungary