Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Monday, September 7, 2009

The sermons of St Bernard on the Song of Songs

The sermon titles are omitted here since they would attract many of the inferior breeds of Homo Googlensis. See the "Table of Contents" link below for a guide to the sermons.

Sidneian Psalms: Psalm 4

Cum invocarem.

Heare me, O, heare me when I call,
         O God, God of my equity !
         Thou sett'st me free when I was thrall,
         Have mercy therefore still on me,
         And hearken how I pray to thee.

O men, whose fathers were but men,
         Till when will ye my honor high
         Stain with your blasphemies? till when
         Such pleasure take in vanity?
         And only haunt where lies do lye.

Yet know this to, that God did take,
         When he chose me, a godly one;
         Such one, I say, that when I make
         My cryeng plaintes to him alone,
         He will give good eare to my moane.

O, tremble then with awfull will;
         Sinne from all rule in you depose,
         Talk with your harts and yet be still;
         And, when your chamber you do close,
         Your selves, yet to your selves disclose.

The sacrifices sacrifie
         Of just desires, on justice staid;
         Trust in that Lord that cannot ly.
         Indeed full many folkes have said,
         From whence shall come to us such aid?

But, Lord, lift thou upon our sight
         The shining; cleerenes of thy face;
         Where I have found more harts delight;
         Then they whose store in harvests space
         Of grain and wine fills stoaring place.

So I in peace and peacefull blisse
         Will lay me down and take my rest:
         For it is thou, Lord, thou it is,
         By pow'r of whose own onely brest
         I dwell, laid up in safest neast.

Catena aurea: Matthew 11

Butler's Lives: September 7

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Sidneian Psalms: Psalm 3

Domine, quid multiplicati?

Lord, how do they increase
That hatefull never cease
         To breed my grievous trouble?
How many ones there be
That all against poor me
         Their numerous strength redouble?

Even multitudes be they
That to my soul do saye
         No help for you remaineth
In God, on whom you build.
Yet, Lord, thou art my shield;
         In thee my glorie raigneth.

The Lord lifts up my head ;
To him my voice I spread;
         From holy hill he heard me:
I laid mo downe and slept,
While he me safelie kept,
         And safe from sleepe I rear'd me.

I will not be afraid,
Though legions round be laide,
         Which all against me gather:
I say no more but this,
Up, Lord, now time it is,
         Help me, my God, and Father!

For thou, with cruel blows
On jawbone of my foes,
         My causelesse wrong hast wroken;
Thou those men's teeth which bite,
Venomed with godlesse spight,
         Hast in their malice broken.

Salvation doth belong
Unto the Lord most strong;
         He it is that defendeth:
And on those blessed same
Which beare his people's name
         His blessing he extendeth.

Catena aurea: Matthew 10

Butler's Lives: September 6