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Hymns and Poems

Original and Translated: By Edward Caswall ... Second Edition
Caswall, Edward (1814-1878)

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DRAMATIC PIECES. ODES. POEMS
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DRAMA ANGELICUM:
  
PRELUDE.
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THE MASQUE.
 I. 
SCENE I.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
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SCENE IV.
  
MARY'S SONG.
  
SONG OF THE HERMITS OF MOUNT CARMEL.
  
[section]
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THE MINSTER OF ELD.
  
PROLOGUE.
 I. 
SCENE I.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
  
EPILOGUE.
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ODES.
 I. 
I. TO THE POWERS OF THE UNIVERSE.
 II. 
II. TO THE SKY.
 III. 
III. TO THE EARTH.
 IV. 
IV. TO THE HEAT AND COLD.
 V. 
V. TO THE DEW AND RAIN.
 VI. 
VI. TO THE SEASONS.
 VII. 
VII. TO THE FLOWERS.
 VIII. 
VIII. TO THE WINDS.
 IX. 
IX. TO A SPRING.
 X. 
X. A VISION OF ANIMALS.
 XI. 
XI. A VISION OF WATERS.
 XII. 
XII. THE PAST.
 XIII. 
XIII. THE SOUL.
 XIV. 
XIV. THE ANGELS.
 XV. 
XV. AJALON.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE WORLD.
 XVII. 
XVII. THE SANCTUARY OF THE CHURCH.
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POEMS.
 I. 
I. THE EASTER SHIP, A LEGEND.
 II. 
II. ST. KENELM'S WELL.
 III. 
III. ON HEARING THE NIGHTINGALE SING IN THE DAY-TIME.
 IV. 
IV. EVENING.
 V. 
V. SPRING.
 VI. 
VI. AUTUMN.
 VII. 
VII. ASSOCIATIONS WITH PLACES.
 VIII. 
VIII. ON AN ANCIENT STONE-QUARRY.
 IX. 
IX. NATURE'S MYSTERIES.
 X. 
X. A DREAM OF CHILDHOOD.
 XI. 
XI. ON PASSING BY A FORMER HOME ON A RAILWAY.
 XII. 
XII. SUMMER'S DEPARTURE.
 XIII. 
XIII. ON A SELFISH RETIREMENT.
 XIV. 
XIV. TO ONE COMPLAINING OF LIFE'S MONOTONY.
 XV. 
XV. A VILLAGE INCIDENT.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE UNSHED TEAR.
 XVII. 
XVII. WATER.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. TO ECHO.
 XIX. 
XIX. A SICK PERSON'S COMPLAINT.
 XX. 
XX. A DREAM IN SPRING.
 XXI. 
XXI. THE SOUL. A COMPARISON.
 XXII. 
XXII. TO THE PLUMES ON A HEARSE.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. HOPE AND MEMORY.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. ON VISITING THE ROOM WHERE I WAS BORN.
 XXV. 
XXV. LESSON FROM A CLOUD.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. THE SEASIDE.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. ON SEEING SNOW UPON GOOD FRIDAY.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. TO THE HOURS.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. LINES WRITTEN ON LEAVING OXFORD.
 XXX. 
XXX. ON WEEPING WHILE ASLEEP.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. LINES WRITTEN IN MOMENTARY DISGUST WITH METAPHYSICS.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. THE TEMPLE OF THE HOLY GOSPELS.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. THE SOUL'S ABYSS.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. BELIEF OF ANGLICANS IN THE REAL PRESENCE TESTED.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. A REMONSTRANCE.
 XXXVI. 
XXVI. THE ROCK OF PETER.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. ST. CLEMENT'S TOMB.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. THE TEMPLE OF NATURE.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX. NATURE'S ORATORIES.
 XL. 
XL. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH THE BOND OF THE WORLD.
 XLI. 
XLI. FLOWERS IN THE SACRISTY.
 XLII. 
XLII. FLOWERS ON THE ALTAR OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT.
 XLIII. 
XLIII. ON THE USE OF ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS FOR THE ALTAR.
 XLIV. 
XLIV. LINES ON A CEREMONIAL SANDAL OF HIS HOLINESS.
 XLV. 
XLV. LINES ON A CEREMONIAL CAPELLA OF HIS HOLINESS.
 XLVI. 
XLVI. A SOUL'S LAMENT IN PURGATORY.
 XLVII. 
XLVII. THE GRACIOUSNESS OF PURGATORY.
 XLVIIII. 
XLVIII. IN GOD'S SIGHT.
 XLIX. 
XLIX. FAITH.
 L. 
L. THE TWO MOTHERS.
 LI. 
LI. LOVE.
 LII. 
LII. CHASTISEMENT.
 LIII. 
LIII. SUNDAY.
 LIV. 
LIV. THE ORDER OF PURE INTUITION.
 LV. 
LV. THE CAPTIVE LINNET.
 LVI. 
LVI. CATHOLIC RUINS.
 LVII. 
LVII. ENGLAND'S FUTURE CONVERSION.
 LVIII. 
LVIII. TO THE HAND OF A LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHOR.
 LIX. 
LIX. ST. PHILIP NERI AND THE ROMAN NOBLE.
 LX. 
LX. A PROPHECY.

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XLVI. A SOUL'S LAMENT IN PURGATORY.

Poor Letitia dead and gone,
All her sprightly pleasures o'er,
Thus to her Creator cries,
Who His loving face denies
Not enough desired before.
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‘O Thou Trinity most true,
In thy Unity confess'd,
Whom in Purgatorial pain
Now I seek, and seek in vain,
Beatific Vision blest!
‘How for Thee, my God, I yearn
Through a night that knows no day,
Pining on without relief,
In excess of purest grief,
Till my debt be done away.
‘Nothing here to soothe my pangs!
Nothing to distract my care!
Gone away my joys to waste!
Gone away my very taste
For joy, if any joy there were!
‘Yet, oh yet, my comfort this,
Through my penance-tide unknown,
Never more at least can I
Sin against thy sanctity,
O adored, beloved, alone!
‘Whom despite of all the past,
Through the Blood of Calvary
With a hope that holdeth fast,
Still I look to see at last
In a glad eternity!’
Thus Letitia makes her moan:—
Hades hears her, and replies,
From th' impalpable profound
Of the viewless regions round,
With a thousand thousand sighs!
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