6. [PAULINUS. CARM. X. 110-331.]
Shall I believe you can make me return, Who pour your fruitless prayers when you mourn, Not to your Maker? Who can hear you cry, But to the fabled nymphs of Castaly? You never shall by such false gods bring me Either to Rome, or to your company. As for those former things you once did know, And which you still call mine, I freely now Confess, I am not he, whom you knew then; I have died since, and have been born again. Nor dare I think my sage instructor can Believe it error, for redeemed man To serve his great Redeemer. I grieve not But glory so to err. Let the wise knot Of worldlings call me fool; I slight their noise, And hear my God approving of my choice. Man is but glass, a building of no trust, A moving shade, and, without Christ, mere dust. His choice in life concerns the chooser much: For when he dies, his good or ill--just such As here it was--goes with him hence, and stays Still by him, his strict judge in the last days. These serious thoughts take up my soul, and I, While yet 'tis daylight, fix my busy eye Upon His sacred rules, life's precious sum Who in the twilight of the world shall come To judge the lofty looks, and show mankind The diff'rence 'twixt the ill and well inclin'd. This second coming of the world's great King Makes my heart tremble, and doth timely bring A saving care into my watchful soul, Lest in that day all vitiated and foul I should be found--that day, Time's utmost line, When all shall perish but what is divine; When the great trumpet's mighty blast shall shake The earth's foundations, till the hard rocks quake And melt like piles of snow; when lightnings move Like hail, and the white thrones are set above: That day, when sent in glory by the Father, The Prince of Life His blest elect shall gather; Millions of angels round about Him flying, While all the kindreds of the Earth are crying; And He enthron'd upon the clouds shall give His last just sentence, who must die, who live. This is the fear, this is the saving care That makes me leave false honours, and that share Which fell to me of this frail world, lest by A frequent use of present pleasures I Should quite forget the future, and let in Foul atheism, or some presumptuous sin. Now by their loss I have secur'd my life, And bought my peace ev'n with the cause of strife. I live to Him Who gave me life and breath, And without fear expect the hour of death. If you like this, bid joy to my rich state, If not, leave me to Christ at any rate.