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The amorous soul, perceiving that she cannot satiate
the desire she has to praise her well-beloved while
she lives in this world, and knowing that the praises
which are given in heaven to the divine goodness are
sung to an incomparably more delightful air, - O God!
says she, how much to be praised are the praises
which are poured forth by those blessed spirits
before the throne of my heavenly king; how blessed
are their blessings!
O what a happiness is it to hear this melody of
the most holy eternity, in which by the sweetest
concurrence of dissimilar and varied tones, are made
those admirable accords - all the parts mingling
together with a continued sequence and marvellous
linking of progressive movements -- by which
perpetual Alleluias do resound on every side.
Voices which for their loudness are compared to
thunders, to trumpets, to the noise of the waves of a
troubled sea; yet voices which, for their
incomparable softness and sweetness, are compared to
the melody of harps, delicately and delightfully
touched by hands of the most skilful players; and
voices all of which unite to sing the joyous Paschal
canticle: Alleluia, praise God, Amen, praise God.
For know, Theotimus, that a voice goes out from
the divine throne which ceases not to cry to the
happy inhabitants of the glorious heavenly Jerusalem:
Praise God, O you that are his servants, and you that
fear him great and little:(1) at which all the
innumerable multitude of saints, -- the choirs of
angels and the choirs of assembled men, -- answer,
singing with all their force: Alleluia, praise God.
But what is this admirable voice, which issuing
out from the divine throne entones the Alleluias of
the elect, except most holy complacency, which being
received into the heart, makes them feel the
sweetness of the divine perfections, whereupon a
loving benevolence, the source of heavenly praises,
is bred in them? So that complacency coming from the
throne, declares to the blessed the grandeurs of God,
and benevolence excites them to pour out in their
turn the perfumes of praise before the throne.
Wherefore by way of answer they eternally sing:
Alleluia, that is, praise God.
The complacency comes from the throne into the
heart, and benevolence goes from the heart to the
throne.
O how worthy of love is this temple, wholly
resounding with praise! O what content have such as
live in this sacred dwelling, where so many heavenly
philomels and nightingales sing with this holy strife
of love, the canticles of eternal delight!
The heart, then, that in this world can neither
sing nor hear the divine praises to its liking,
enters into unutterable desires of being delivered
from the bonds of this life to pass to the other,
where the heavenly well-beloved is so perfectly
praised: and these desires having taken possession of
the heart, often become so strong and urgent in the
breast of sacred lovers, that banishing all other
desires they cause disgust of all earthly things, and
render the soul languishing and lovesick: yea,
sometimes the holy passion goes so far, that, God
permitting, one dies of it.
So that glorious and seraphical lover S. Francis,
having been long torn with this strong affection for
praising God, in the end, in his last years, after he
had had assurance, by a special revelation, of his
eternal salvation, could not contain his joy, but
wasted daily, as if his life and soul had burnt away
like incense, upon the fire of the ardent desires
which he had to see his Master, incessantly to praise
him: so that these ardours taking every day a fresh
increase, his soul left his body by a passionate
movement which he made towards heaven; for the divine
Providence thought good that he should die
pronouncing these sacred words: Bring my soul out of
prison, that I may praise thy name: the just wait for
me, until thou reward me.(2)
Behold, Theotimus, I beseech you, this soul, who,
as a heavenly nightingale shut up in the cage of his
body, in which he cannot at will sing the
benedictions of his eternal love, knows that he could
better trill and practise his delicious song if he
could gain the air, to enjoy his liberty and the
society of other philomels, amongst the gay and
flowery hills of the land of the blessed; wherefore
he cries: Alas! O Lord of my life, ah! by thy sweet
goodness, deliver poor me from the cage of my body,
free me from this little prison, to the end that
released from this bondage I may fly to my dear
companions, who expect me there above in heaven, to
make me one of their choirs, and environ me with
their joy. There, Lord, according my voice to theirs,
I with them will make up a sweet harmony of delicious
airs and words, singing, praising, and blessing thy
mercy.
This admirable Saint, as an orator who would end
and conclude all he had said in some short sentence,
put this happy ending to all his wishes and desires,
whereof these last words were an abridgment; words to
which he so firmly attached his soul, that in
breathing them he breathed his last.
My God, Theotimus, what a sweet and dear death was
this! a happily loving death, a holily mortal love.
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