The Holy Nicholas

God of mercy! what a wond’rous wonder! Such a wonder ne’er before was witness’d. In Saint Paul’s—within the holy cloister, Gather’d round a golden table, seated In three ranks, the saints are all collected; O’er them sits the thunderer Elias; {81a} In the midst are Sava and Maria; At the ends are Petka and Nedelia; And their health the holy Nicholas pledges, Pledges them their health to Jesus’ glory. {81b} But behold, behold the saint!—he slumbers; From his hand the cup of wine has fallen, Fallen from it on the golden table: Yet the wine’s unspilt,—the cup unbroken. Then laugh’d out the thunderer Elias: “O my brother! O thou holy Nicholas: Often drank we cooling wine together; But it was our duty not to slumber, Not to drop the cup—And tell me, brother, Why to-day does slumber’s power subdue thee?”

Him thus answer’d Nicholas the holy: “Jest not thus with me, thou sainted thunderer! For I fell asleep, and dreamt three hundred, Dreamt three hundred friars had embark’d them In one vessel on the azure ocean; Bearing offerings to the holy mountain, Offerings,—golden wax, and snowy incense. From the clouds there broke a furious tempest, Lash’d the blue waves of the trembling ocean, Scooping watery graves for all the friars. Then I heard their blended voices call me, ‘Help, O God! and help, O holy Nicholas! Would that thou, where’er thou art, wert with us!’ So I hurried down to help the suppliants— So I saved the whole three hundred friars— So I shipped them full of joy and courage; Brought their offerings to the holy mountain, Brought their golden wax, their snowy incense;— And meanwhile I seem’d in gentle slumber, And my cup fell on the golden table.”