Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
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Tuesday, February 12, 2013
“You cannot possibly imagine what is going to happen. A great revolution shall break
out and the streets shall be stained with blood. The Pope’s sufferings on this occasion may
well be compared to the agony that will shorten his pilgrimage on earth. His successor
shall pilot the boat during the storm. But the punishment of the wicked shall not be slow.
That will be an exceedingly dreadful day..."
Blessed Elena Aiello (1895-1961)
Thank you, Hilary.
ReplyDeleteAfter this shocking news, I've been thinking of Priam a lot. A few lines of Dryden's translation from Virgil... There isn't space for the whole thing, but Priam died well.
Jane
...Perhaps you may of Priam's fate enquire.
He, when he saw his regal town on fire,
His ruin'd palace, and his ent'ring foes,
On ev'ry side inevitable woes,
In arms, disus'd, invests his limbs, decay'd,
Like them, with age; a late and useless aid.
His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain;
Loaded, not arm'd, he creeps along with pain,
Despairing of success, ambitious to be slain.