Beethoven's "Emperor" 2nd Movement

I wish I could write a poem about this music.
This to me is the song of my heart.

Adoro Te Devote, Latin

1. Adoro te devote, latens Deitas,
Quae sub his figuris vere latitas;
Tibi se cor meum totum subiicit,
Quia te contemplans, totum deficit.

2. Visus, tactus, gustus in te fallitur,
Sed auditu solo tuto creditur;
Credo quidquid dixit Dei Filius,
Nil hoc verbo veritatis verius.

3. In Cruce latebat sola Deitas.
At hic latet simul et humanitas:
Ambo tamen credens, atque confitens,
Peto quod petivit latro paenitens.

4. Plagas, sicut Thomas, non intueor,
Deum tamen meum te confiteor:
Fac me tibi semper magis credere,
In te spem habere, te diligere.

5. O memoriale mortis Domini,
Panis vivus vitam praestans homini:
Praesta meae menti de te vivere,
Et te illi semper dulce sapere.

6. Pie pellicane Iesu Domine,
Me immundum munda tuo Sanguine:
Cuius una stilla salvum facere
Totum mundum quit ab omni scelere.

7. Iesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio,
Oro, fiat illud, quod tam sitio,
Ut te revelata cernens facie,
Visu sim beatus tuae gloriae.
Amen.

Adoro Te Devote

http://www.chantcd.com/lyrics/godhead_here_hiding.htm

Compare this translation of "Adoro Te Devote"

1. Godhead here in hiding, whom I do adore,
Masked by these bare shadows, shape and nothing more,
See, Lord, at thy service low lies here a heart
Lost, all lost in wonder at the God thou art.

2. Seeing, touching, tasting are in thee deceived:
How says trusty hearing? that shall be believed;
What God's Son has told me, take for truth I do;
Truth himself speaks truly or there's nothing true.

3. On the cross thy godhead made no sign to men,
Here thy very manhood steals from human ken:
Both are my confession, both are my belief,
And I pray the prayer of the dying thief.

4. I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,
But can plainly call thee Lord and God as he;
Let me to a deeper faith daily nearer move,
Daily make me harder hope and dearer love.

5. O thou our reminder of Christ crucified,
Living Bread, the life of us for whom he died,
Lend this life to me then: feed and feast my mind,
There be thou the sweetness man was meant to find.

6. Bring the tender tale true of the Pelican;
Bathe me, Jesu Lord, in what thy bosom ran---
Blood whereof a single drop has power to win
All the world forgiveness of its world of sin.

7. Jesu, whom I look at shrouded here below,
I beseech thee send me what I thirst for so,
Some day to gaze on thee face to face in light
And be blest for ever with thy glory's sight.
Amen.

(Translation by ???)

w/ "Humbly We Adore You"

Humbly we adore you, Christ, Redeemer, King;
You are Lord of heaven, you to whom we sing.
God, the Mighty, you have come, bearing gifts of grace;
Son of Adam still you are, Savior to our race.

Jesus, Lord, we thank you for this wondrous bread;
In our land now dwelling, by you we are fed.
We who share this mystery in you are made one;
Ev'ry act we offer you in your name is done.

You who died to save us live now as our light;
Though our eyes are blinded, yet our faith gives sight.
Savior, now be merciful, Lamb for sinners slain,
We in grief confess our guilt; cleanse our souls of stain.

Christ, our God and brother, hear our humble plea;
By this holy banquet grant us unity.
Make us one in loving you, one in mind and heart,
Till in heaven we are yours, never more to part.

Hail, O Word Incarnate, born from Mary's womb;
Hail, O Strength immortal, risen from the tomb.
Share with us your victory, Savior ever blest;
Live more fully in our hearts; be our constant guest.

Faith alone reveals here bread of Paradise;
Faith alone may witness Jesus' sacrifice.
Therefore, Lord, as once of old Thomas gined his sight,
Now increase our feeble faith; shed your healing light.

Christ, at his last supper, breaking bread, decreed;
"This, is my body, take and eat;" heav'nly food indeed!
Then he blessed the cup of wine; "take and drink," he said:
"From this chalice of my blood, soon for sinners shed."

Now with glad thanksgiving, praise Christ glorified;
He in us is present; we in him abide.
Members of his body, we in him are one;
Hail this sacred union, heav'n on earth begun!

~attr. Thomas Aquinas, c. 1225-1274
Translation by Melvin Farrell (1930-1986) and Omer Westendorf (1916-1997)

Lover Of My Soul

Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy mercy fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high:
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
Till the storm of life be past;
Safe into the haven guide,
O receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me:
All my trust on Thee is stayed;
All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of Thy wing.

Plenteous grace with Thee is found,
Grace to cleanse from every sin;
Let the healing streams abound,
Make and keep me pure within:
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of Thee:
Spring Thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.

~ Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Words That Sing Addendum

I forgot to include the poet's name! I am so sorry mr. cummings!
My blog "Words That Sing" is about a poem by e.e. cummings.
The poem is number 32 from the collection "73 Poems."
That collection was first written or published in 1963.
I cited it from my copy of E.E. COMMINGS, COMPLETE POEMS, 1913-1962, published by Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers.

Words That Sing

all which isn't singing is mere talking
and all talking's talking to oneself
(whether that oneself be sought or seeking
master or disciple sheep or wolf)

gush to it as deity or devil
--toss in sobs and reasons threats and smiles
name it cruel fair or blessed evil--
it is you(ne'i)nobody else

drive dumb mankind dizzy with haranguing
--you are deafened evey mother's son--
all is merely talk which isn't singing
and all talking's to oneself alone

but the very song of(as mountains
feel and lovers)singing is silence

I have a love/hate relationship with words. I believe in The Word, and I believe the power of His Word, but as for human words? I think they are like shards of ill-used vessels: broken, faded, their source nearly forgotten, their meaning nearly ground to dust by careless usage...

Words have meaning, and how we use words reinforces, refreshes, enriches their meaning, or not! How does one ever really know what another person means by the words s/he uses? I relish poetry, especially e.e. cummings' because he use words in fresh, strange ways that make one think, but also let one see, and hear, and feel; and, in the experience, I believe his poetry more than many "facts."

This particular poem is a favorite of mine because it laments and celebrates this ambivalence at the same time.