Lament of the Church Reduced to Evil State
THE Church is weeping, weeping bitterly,Feeling the torments of her evil state.
O Mother, noble Mother, wherefore weep?Surely the sorrow of thy heart is deep;Tell me the griefs that call thee from thy sleep,To anguish measureless and desolate?
My son, good cause have I these tears to shed,I see my Spouse, my Father, lying dead:Sons, brothers, kinsmen, all alike are fled ;My friends are prisoned and disconsolate.
Now none but bastard sons around me press,False cowards, who desert me in my stress ;My true sons, in their fervent tenderness,Feared neither sword nor dart nor foeman's hate.
My true sons dwelt in peace and amity ;These bastard sons in wrath and discord be ;The faithless name me vile, because they seeThese evil growths I cannot extirpate.
Now holy Poverty they scorn and slay ;For pomp and place alone they strive and pray;My true sons lived austerely, in their day,And trampled on the world, and world's estate.
Silver and gold with ardour they have sought,By pride and state, fierce enmity have bought ;Have driven away all pious use and thought;And therefore must I mourn my wretched tate.
Where are the Fathers, once so filled with faith ?Not one to-day is steadfast unto death:Lukewarm I grow, and faintly draw my breath,How can my sorrow soften or abate?
Where are the Prophets, filled with hope and praise?Not one is left to cheer my widowed days ;Now Impudence takes courage, and displaysThe whole world at his back, importunate.
And where are the Apostles, filled with zeal?Not one is left to hear my sad appeal;Self-love draws near, to ravage and to steal,And none steps forth, his fury to frustrate.
Where are the Martyrs, filled with fortitude?Not one is left to cheer my widowhood:Softness and ease upon my strength intrude,And all my fervour is annihilate.
Where are the Prelates, just and vehement?To feed their flocks their ardent lives were spent:False pomp and ostentation now are bentThis noble order to attenuate.
Where are the Doctors, filled with wisdom's grace ?Many I see, whose science grows apace,Yet from their evil lives I veil my face ;They strike and pierces my heart unfortunate.
O ye Religious, whose austeritiesIn days gone by gave pleasure to mine eyes,Vainly I seek a cloister whence ariseThe virtues that I love to contemplate.
O bitter peace, despair's ambassador!I stood upright, the while I was at war:Now ease destroys me, through my conqueror,—The flattering serpent's poisoned opiate! -
Not one comes near to raise my drooping head;In each condition, Christ our Lord is dead ;Thou, O my Life, my Joy, my Hope, art fled!In every heart I see Thee suffocate.
Words in this poem 18
- bitterly adv.
- In a bitter manner.
- wherefore adv.
- For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
- measureless a.
- Without measure; unlimited; immeasurable.
- spouse v. t.
- To wed; to espouse. [See Espouse, and Spouse, n.]
- disconsolate n.
- Disconsolateness. Barrow.
- fervent a.
- Hot; glowing; boiling; burning; as, a fervent summer. [F. fervent, L. fervens, -entis. p.pr. of fervere o the boiling hot, to boil, glow.]
- amity n.
- Friendship, in a general sense, between individuals, societies, or nations; friendly relations; good understanding; as, a treaty of amity and commerce; the amity of the Whigs and Tories. [F. amitié, OF. amistié, amisté, fr. an assumed LL. amisitas, fr. L. amicus friendly, from amare to love. See Amiable.]
- austerely adv.
- Severely; rigidly; sternly.
- ardour n.
- Heat, in a literal sense; as, the ardor of the sun's rays. [L. ardor, fr. ardere to burn: cf. OF. ardor, ardur, F. ardeur.]
- lukewarm a.
- Moderately warm; neither cold nor hot; tepid; not ardent; not zealous; cool; indifferent. [See Luke.]
- fortitude n.
- Power to resist attack; strength; firmness. [L. fortitudo, fr. fortis strong. See Fort.]
- widowhood n.
- The state of being a widow; the time during which a woman is widow; also, rarely, the state of being a widower.
- fervour n.
- Heat; excessive warmth. [OF. fervor, fervour, F. ferveur, L. fervor, fr. fervere. See Fervent.]
- annihilate v. t.
- To reduce to nothing or nonexistence; to destroy the existence of; to cause to cease to be. [L. annihilare; ad + nihilum, nihil, nothing, ne hilum (filum) not a thread, nothing at all. Cf. File, a row.]
- attenuate v. t.
- To make thin or slender, as by mechanical or chemical action upon inanimate objects, or by the effects of starvation, disease, etc., upon living bodies. [L. attenuatus, p. p. of attenuare; ad + tenuare to make thin, tenuis thin. See Thin.]
- apace adv.
- With a quick pace; quick; fast; speedily. [Pref. a- + pace. OE. a pas at a walk, in which a is the article. See Pace.]
- contemplate v. t.
- To look at on all sides or in all its bearings; to view or consider with continued attention; to regard with deliberate care; to meditate on; to study. [L. contemplatus, p.p. of contemplari to contemplate; con- + templum a space for observation marked out by the augur. See Temple.]
- opiate n.
- Originally, a medicine of a thicker consistence than sirup, prepared with opium. Parr. [From Opium: cf.F. opiat.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Lament of the Church Reduced to Evil State is in the public domain. This text is taken from Jacopone da Todi, Poet and Mystic, 1228-1306: A Spiritual Biography, with a Selection from the Spiritual Songs, Internet Archive, the Mrs. Theodore Beck translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Jacopone da Todi, Lament of the Church Reduced to Evil State, in The Lauds (1919), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/jacopone-lauds/lament-of-the-church-reduced-to-evil-state.html, id L27108.
Form and metre
Lament of the Church Reduced to Evil State is 62 lines in 16 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 2 AAAB weepA · deepA · sleepA · desolateB
- 3 CCCB shedC · deadC · fledC · disconsolateB
- 4 DD-E pressD · stressD · tenderness · hateE
- 5 -FFE amity · beF · seeF · extirpateE
- 6 GGGE slayG · prayG · dayG · estateE
- 7 H-HE soughtH · bought · thoughtH · tateE
- 8 -IIE faith · deathI · breathI · abateE
- 9 JJJ- praiseJ · daysJ · displaysJ · importunate
- 10 KKKL zealK · appealK · stealK · frustrateL
- 11 M-ML fortitudeM · widowhood · intrudeM · annihilateL
- 12 -NNL vehement · spentN · bentN · attenuateL
- 13 OOO- graceO · apaceO · faceO · unfortunate
- 14 -PP- austerities · eyesP · ariseP · contemplate
- 16 QQQ- headQ · deadQ · fledQ · suffocate
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| THE Church is weeping, weeping bitterly, | 10 | ···/˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Feeling the torments of her evil state. | 10 | /˘·/···/˘· |
| O Mother, noble Mother, wherefore weep? | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘/˘· |
| Surely the sorrow of thy heart is deep; | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Tell me the griefs that call thee from thy sleep, | 10 | ·········· |
| To anguish measureless and desolate? | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘·/˘· |
| My son, good cause have I these tears to shed, | 10 | ·········· |
| I see my Spouse, my Father, lying dead: | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Sons, brothers, kinsmen, all alike are fled ; | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| My friends are prisoned and disconsolate. | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Now none but bastard sons around me press, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| False cowards, who desert me in my stress ; | 10 | ·/˘·˘/···· |
| My true sons, in their fervent tenderness, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| Feared neither sword nor dart nor foeman's hate. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| My true sons dwelt in peace and amity ; | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| These bastard sons in wrath and discord be ; | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| The faithless name me vile, because they see | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| These evil growths I cannot extirpate. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Now holy Poverty they scorn and slay ; | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘···· |
| For pomp and place alone they strive and pray; | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| My true sons lived austerely, in their day, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And trampled on the world, and world's estate. | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Silver and gold with ardour they have sought, | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| By pride and state, fierce enmity have bought ; | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Have driven away all pious use and thought; | 10 | ·/˘/·/˘··· |
| And therefore must I mourn my wretched tate. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Where are the Fathers, once so filled with faith ? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Not one to-day is steadfast unto death: | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Lukewarm I grow, and faintly draw my breath, | 10 | //···/˘··· |
| How can my sorrow soften or abate? | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| Where are the Prophets, filled with hope and praise? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Not one is left to cheer my widowed days ; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Now Impudence takes courage, and displays | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘·˘/ |
| The whole world at his back, importunate. | 10 | ······˘/˘˘ |
| And where are the Apostles, filled with zeal? | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Not one is left to hear my sad appeal; | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Self-love draws near, to ravage and to steal, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And none steps forth, his fury to frustrate. | 10 | ·····/˘·/· |
| Where are the Martyrs, filled with fortitude? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Not one is left to cheer my widowhood: | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| Softness and ease upon my strength intrude, | 10 | /˘······˘/ |
| And all my fervour is annihilate. | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Where are the Prelates, just and vehement? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| To feed their flocks their ardent lives were spent: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| False pomp and ostentation now are bent | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| This noble order to attenuate. | 10 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| Where are the Doctors, filled with wisdom's grace ? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Many I see, whose science grows apace, | 10 | /˘···/˘·˘/ |
| Yet from their evil lives I veil my face ; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| They strike and pierces my heart unfortunate. | 11 | ···/˘··˘/˘˘ |
| O ye Religious, whose austerities | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘˘ |
| In days gone by gave pleasure to mine eyes, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Vainly I seek a cloister whence arise | 10 | /˘···/˘·˘/ |
| The virtues that I love to contemplate. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| O bitter peace, despair's ambassador! | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘/˘˘ |
| I stood upright, the while I was at war: | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Now ease destroys me, through my conqueror, | 10 | ··˘/···/˘˘ |
| —The flattering serpent's poisoned opiate! - | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Not one comes near to raise my drooping head; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| In each condition, Christ our Lord is dead ; | 10 | ··˘/˘·/··· |
| Thou, O my Life, my Joy, my Hope, art fled! | 10 | ·········· |
| In every heart I see Thee suffocate. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.