Veni, Sancte Spiritus
Veni, Sancte Spiritus, known as the Golden Sequence, is the sequence for the Mass for Pentecost. It is commonly regarded as one of the greatest masterpieces of sacred Latin poetry ever written. The hymn has been attributed to three different authors, King Robert II the Pious of France (970-1031), Pope Innocent III (1161-1216), and Stephen Langton (d 1228), Archbishop of Canterbury, of which the last is most likely the author.
Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
et emitte caelitus
lucis tuae radium.
Holy Spirit, Lord of light,
From the clear celestial height
Thy pure beaming radiance give.
Veni, pater pauperum,
veni, dator munerum,
veni, lumen cordium.
Come, thou Father of the poor,
Come with treasures which endure;
Come, thou light of all that live!
Consolator optime,
dulcis hospes animae,
dulce refigerium.
Thou, of all consolers best,
Thou, the soul’s delightful guest,
Dost refreshing peace bestow.
In labore requies,
in aestu temperies,
in fletu solacium.
Thou in toil art comfort sweet,
Pleasant coolness in the heat;
Solace in the midst of woe.
O lux beatissima,
reple cordis intimatuorum fidelium.
Light immortal, light divine,
Visit thou these hearts of thine,
And our inmost being fill.
Sine tuo numine,
nihil est in homine,
nihil est innoxium.
If thou take thy grace away,
Nothing pure in man will stay;
All his good is turned to ill.
Lava quod est sordidum,
riga quod est aridum,
sana quod est saucium.
Heal our wounds, our strength renew;
On our dryness pour thy dew,
Wash the stains of guilt away.
Flecte quod est rigidum,
fove quod est frigidum,
rege quod est devium.
Bend the stubborn heart and will,
Melt the frozen, warm the chill,
Guide the steps that go astray.
Da tuis fidelibus,
in te confidentibus,
sacrum septenarium.
Thou, on us who evermore
Thee confess and thee adore,
With thy sevenfold gifts descend.
Da virtutis meritum,
da salutis exitum,
da perenne gaudium.
Amen. Alleluia.
Give us comfort when we die,
Give us life with thee on high,
Give us joys that never end.
Amen. Alleluia.
A wonderful version of the Gregorian chant followed by the polyphonic adaptation by Palestrina is found on this recording: Palestrina, “Missa Dum Complerentur / Veni Sancte Spiritus” with the Westminster Cathedral Choir (Hyperion)



Thank you for this rendition of this gorgeous sequence. I have recited the rhymed version that I memorized as youth– somewhat different text in many stanzas — on many Pentecosts. The images remain some of the most concise affective and effective for descriptions of grace and trustful supplication and never fail to move me and many.
There is fine English version set to Beethoven’s music for An die Freude. I had the pleasure of singing it last Sunday and hope to have the pleasure again.
Incidentally I wonder if Stephen Langton was ever promoted for canonization. This marvelous sequence would be a good piece of evidence.
The medieval sequences used parallelism–a device of the psalms–in extended ways. Here among many examples: the six identically constructed requests beginning with Lava quod est sordidum, and the four “da” requests at the end.
One of many pleasures of this inimitable text.
It’s a mug’s game to write of good better best hymns but I have a preference for Veni Creator Spiritus – Come Holy Ghost / Creator blest… I learned it near 65 years ago and have forgotten neither the Latin nor the English nor the tune. The nuns were good teachers in those days.
And I have often thought what a good hymn it would make for weddings.
Kathy, that’s interesting.
Parallel structure is a feature of oral works–repetition made things easier to remember as did setting them to a familiar tune or regular rhythm. (The Great Litany in the BCP, used generally in Lent, has a similar structure. Interestingly, it is one of the few bits in the BCP that does not offer a modern English version; it still refers to the “Holy Ghost.”)
While writing and literacy make these devices less necessary, they’re no less poetic for that. And learning something by heart (interesting phrase “by heart”), ensures you don’t lose it. Gabriel can recall the “Veni” over half a century later.
I can recall “I’m Just Wild About Harry” and the Pabst beer song over a half century later, too, but that’s probably taking things too far from the sublime to the ridiculous.
Jean,
I didn’t know about the Great Litany, thanks for mentioning it. I found this video-ized rendition (a lot of handbells for my taste, but very nicely sung): http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=The+Great+Litany+common&sitesearch=
In most Catholic parishes litanies are no longer chanted because of a songlike litany (c. 1987, OCP) that has taken over Easter vigils and even ordinations. Talk about repetitive! It’s memorable but inane, an unfortunate combination.
My organist threatened to quit today (a frequent threat from an artistic personality) because I didn’t schedule the excellent hymn Come Down, O Love Divine. The words were written by a Franciscan ecstatic, Bianco di Siena, translated by Richard Littledale and set to this tune: http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/a/ad/VaughanWilliams-Down_ampney.mid
which is named Down Ampney, after the vicarage in which Ralph Vaughan Williams, the composer, was born.
1. Come down, O love divine, seek Thou this soul of mine,
And visit it with Thine own ardor glowing.
O Comforter, draw near, within my heart appear,
And kindle it, Thy holy flame bestowing.
2. O let it freely burn, til earthly passions turn
To dust and ashes in its heat consuming;
And let Thy glorious light shine ever on my sight,
And clothe me round, the while my path illuming.
3. Let holy charity mine outward vesture be,
And lowliness become mine inner clothing;
True lowliness of heart, which takes the humbler part,
And o’er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.
4. And so the yearning strong, with which the soul will long,
Shall far outpass the power of human telling;
For none can guess its grace, till he become the place
Wherein the Holy Spirit makes His dwelling.
As this glorious feast of Pentecost draws to a close (at least on the East coast where it’s almost time for Vespers), I thought to share a Roman custom. Rose petals are strewn in the Pantheon on this feast, but not from bottom-up, from top-down, through the “eye” of the dome.
Photos are available on the What Does the Prayer Really Say blog: http://wdtprs.com/blog/
Scroll past the discussion of “maniples!” (There are also some lovely photos of St. Peter’s Basilica in different lights of morning.)
As a postscript: does anyone know how and why the Sundays after Pentecost received the rather bland designation — “Ordinary Time?”
Kathy, do you mean the litany of saints at the Easter Vigil? I like it. Yes, repetitive, but I never found it inane. It’s like calling all our friends from heaven down to be with us, and I always imagined them showing up in some way when their names were called. But I suppose others might find it tiresome.
I appreciate the practical side of litanies – easy to remember with out written cues, but I think they reach more deeply into our souls and psyches. I wrote this piece (http://www.cst-phl.com/catholicspirituality.html) for Philadelphia’s Catholic paper, theorizing that litanies pull us back to the rhythmic comforts of our earliest days. There is something both comforting and comfortable about that poetic structure that makes it particularly suited for prayer, in my mind, at least!
I love the litany of the saints. But it’s been replaced, in many parishes, by a metrical version that I find much less appealing, both musically and theologically.
I suppose that’s another subject.
I did notice that in the Ordo (a pocket instruction book for the daily Liturgy) there is a pastoral note suggesting a lengthy Liturgy of the Word for Pentecost. The Lectionary gives 4 options for the P. Vigil OT reading; the Note suggests using all 4, much like the 7 OT readings of the Easter Vigil, each with its own responsorial Psalm.
I believe the name “Ordinary Time” comes from the fact that these Sundays are designated by ordinal numbers (1st, 2nd, 3rd, etc.). Can you get a more bland reason than that?
There’s a thoughtful reflection on the loss of the octave of Pentecost in the current Roman calendar at http://vultus.stblogs.org/2008/05/in_praise_of_the_octave_of_pen_1.html
I think we probably lost more than we gained when the liturgical calendar was changed — somehow I can’t imagine the term “Ordinary Time” ever sparking music, poetry or art.