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Show : "Rufus" By Pope Leo XIII. I 44.4. ' i , Tins is the latest poem of the Holy Father, translated from the Cologne People's Peo-ple's Journal: TRANSLATION. Rufus, why art thou lost in pleasures' biind abyss? Why pluckest thou thf flittering: fruit from the forbidden trno? While yet in life's lirst bloom, the sweet comfort of a parent's heart. In judgment and in virtues lily white thou wast second to none. Then, in the Summer of youth, you loim.d to drink at wisdom's font. To scale the heights of truth, and wrest the crown of true nobility. In the lirst rank among the fellows of thy age, You walked, the defender undaunted of Holy Religion. And how often has not Mary, maiden mild, with love Beheld thee, prostrate at her altar, v. eave gurlands of roses! But now, how suddenly art thou changed from -what thou wert: Virtue's once honored crown and peace are cast to the dust. A prey to shameless love, and-the base desire of gain; Then, alas! didst walk to the slough of sine and as the swine didst wallow in the mire. . v O. Rufys, tell me, what dread madness has seized thee? Seekest thou these dregs, and in thy folly canst thou love them? Have done with the shameful deeds of the past. Or.ce more arise from the mire of sin; And, weeping from rhy heart of hearts, wash away thy guilt. What! Refuse? Siurn the voice that warns thee in love? And, poor' fool, close thine ears to correction? Thou art thine own great enemy; presume not overmuch! Kven now J see thee driven headlong to deep destruction; And in the gloom of hell, where no hope of Heaven reigns, Suffering untold is thy portion forever and ever. A!:k! I pray the Virgin undefiled to avert the threatening danger. Ami with a mother's love not not the wretched perish. May she hover near the weary, may shi smile with gracious love, And to the faltering extend her helmng hand. |
