I thought these were the two best

I just finished Hymns of the Eastern Church, translated by John Mason Neale. I have mentioned J.M. Neale before (translator of Latin and Greek hymns/carols). In this little book he gives us some of what he considers the best of the hymns of the Eastern Orthodox Church. I was impressed by two images encountered in these hymns:


Now the Virgin-womb...Containeth Him, the Uncontainable : What a powerful image!

(God) The uncreated Light     Is this not an awesome picture?

The following two poems/hymns were my favorites.

Adam’s Complaint
"The Lord my Maker, forming me of clay,
By His own Breath, the breath of life convey’d
O’er all the bright new world He gave me sway,
A little lower than the Angels made.
But Satan, using for his guile
The crafty serpent’s cruel wile,
Deceiv’d me by the Tree;
And severed me from God and grace,
And wrought me death, and all my race,
As long as time shall be.
O Lover of the sons of men!
Forgive, and call me back again!

"In that same hour I lost the glorious stole
Of innocence, that God's own Hands had made;
And now, the tempter poisoning all my soul,
sit, in fig leaves and in skins arrayed:
I sit condemned, distressed, forsaken;
Must till the ground whence I was taken
By labor's daily sweat.
But Thou, That shalt hereafter come,
The Offspring of a Virgin’s womb,
Have pity on me yet!
O turn on me those gracious eyes,
And call me back to Paradise!

"O glorious Paradise! O lovely clime!
O God-built mansion! Joy of every Saint!
Happy remembrance to all coming time!
Whisper, with all thy leaves, in cadence faint,
One prayer to Him Who made them all,
One prayer for Adam in his fall!—
That He, Who formed thy gates of yore,
Would bid those gates unfold once more
That I had closed by sin:
And let me taste that holy Tree
That giveth immortality
To them that dwell therein:
Or have I fallen so far from grace
That mercy hath for me no place?"

Adam sat right against the Eastern gate,
By many a storm of sad remembrance tossed
O me! so ruined by the serpent's hate!
O me! so glorious once, and now so lost!
So mad that bitter lot to choose!
Beguil'd of all I had to lose!
Must I then, gladness of my eyes,—
Must I then leave thee, Paradise,
And as an exile go?
And must I never cease to grieve
How once my God, at cool of eve,
Came down to walk below?
O Merciful! on Thee I call:
O Pitiful! forgive my fall!"

<>< <>< <><

Art thou weary, art thou languid, 

Art thou sore distrest ? 

'Come to Me' — saith One — and coming, 

'Be at rest!' 

Hath He marks to lead me to Him, 

If He be my Guide ? 

In His Feet and Hands are Wound-prints, 

And His Side.

Is there Diadem, as Monarch, 

That His Brow adorns ? 

Yea, a Crown, in very surety, 

'But of Thorns ! ' 

If I find Him, if I follow, 

What His reward here ? 

Many a sorrow, many a labor, 

Many a tear.

If I still hold closely to Him , 

What hath He at last ? 

Sorrow vanquish'd, labor ended, 

Jordan past ! 

If I ask Him to receive me. 

Will He say me nay ? 

Not till earth, and not till heaven 

Pass away !

Finding, following, keeping, struggling, 

Is He sure to bless ? 

Angels, Martyrs, Prophets, Virgins, 

Answer, ‘Yes ! '