Commentary on Mark

Prudentius

Then a man bereft of reason, dwelling in sepulchral caves, Bound with cruel and grinding fetters and with raging frenzy torn, Rushes forth and kneels in worship, as the saving Christ draws near.

Driven forth, the wily demons, legion named that evil scourge, Seize upon the sordid foulness of a herd of filthy swine And into the muddy waters plunge themselves with maddened beasts.

Behold, a legion hurls headlong the swine Of Gerasenes, and once enchained in tombs, It loudly grunts with pain. From lips possessed It had cried out: "O Jesus, Son of God, Offspring of David's royal line, we know Who you are and why you have come, what power Expels us, at your coming filled with dread." Has not this voice, Judea, reached your ears? True, but it has not pierced your darkened mind And, driven back, has from the threshold fled. Now sets the evening sun, where he who beholds The rosy dawn beholds the Lord's advent. The fervent gospel word Has thawed the Scythian frosts and Hyrcanian snows, So that Rhodopeian Hebrus, freed from ice, Flows from Caucasian cliffs, a gentler stream.

See also

• More works by Prudentius

Enable JavaScript to read the full text and search the library.