De laudibus sancte crucis

To the man of great genius and most skillful investigator of good things, Brother Nicolaus Keinbös, of the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, parish priest of Durlach, a commendation original: "systasis" by Sebastian Brant on the marvelous work of Rabanus Maurus, Abbot of Fulda, concerning the praises of the Cross.

An ornate woodcut initial Q featuring foliate patterns and scrolls begins this section.

Nicolaus, because you recently sent me the sacred work of Rabanus concerning the Cross and the beauty of the Cross, I could not help but marvel at the attempt, or judge it worthy of immeasurable praise. And it was fitting: for what minister of Christ or the Cross would not himself also study the praises of the Cross? But who will think himself able to speak worthy poems for the wonderfully soul-saving Cross? Sense, tongue, and the power of genius fail in all who attempt to sing of the Cross with a mortal mouth. Yet that Rabanus, a learned father and excellent author, dared the same under various poetic auspices. He completed the mystery, the praises, and the glory of the Cross, and taught that the Cross is present in all things. He traced the Cross from the heavens and the first parent through all creatures and elements. O how great a labor did that divine father undertake? How great an immense burden did he take up for the love of the Cross? He spent sleepless nights in watchfulness (without a doubt) so that he might continue the praises of the Cross. For this reason I am more indignant: I curse whatever men of this time I see who are light-minded and fickle. Not only the slothful who, flowing with idleness, do not worthily sweat and keep watch for the Cross: but those who even violate, profane, and now defile, despise, shudder at, and tear apart the Cross. Moreover, they trample the venerable sign with their feet, and shamefully kill those marked by the Cross. Their punishment awaits them at last. Meanwhile, it delights us to sing the praises of the Cross together with Rabanus. And let us return, hold, and give thanks to the Lord, who liberates and blesses us by his own Cross. You also, dear father, worthy Nicolaus, a fitting reward from the heavens and pious Christians shall follow. You who wear a garment marked with the Cross, hence you love, observe, and strive to amplify the arms of the Cross. You also provide the means by which this work may one day come into the light and take up life under your guidance.

Rightly, therefore, are you called Keinbös German: "no evil", because you live immune from every crime, and wicked things do not please you. Whence also you seek the praises and the trophy of the Cross, and your genius has established itself in the good arts. Therefore farewell. Let the shadow of the Cross defend us, and may it receive and protect its servants under its wings. And may the Cross, which is to be venerated with perpetual glory, also protect us forever. Amen.

A four-line poem by Jodocus Gallus to Christians.

Learn, you whom the sacred Cross alone redeemed from the depths: with what piety it is worthy to embrace the cross. Since nowhere else are affection, labor, genius, and the power of memory so well scattered as they are in this book.

By the same, to the faithful, industrious, and diligent printer of Pforzheim, Thomas of Baden.

Proceed as you have begun, learned master printer: to print marvelous marks with marvelous bronze. You have a lively mind, a ready art, a sure use of time, a fertile genius, and a learned hand. Hence the figures of Rabanus which you have drawn with art, no one else in our world will fashion any like them. Therefore, come: let the finishing touch (as you have begun) be added to the art which you almost alone possess: you alone shall carry the rewards.

In praise of the poems of Rabanus, Theodoricus Gresemundus, Doctor of Laws.

Rabanus indulged his pen, Apelles his tablets. Whatever each painted with his hand seemed to breathe. Devouring time has scraped away whatever ancient tablets existed: the work of that man shall live for eternal time. You figures of the painted idea owe your life to the poems: though the line may perish, the poems do not perish.

Another poem by the same on the same subject.

Behold the verses of Rabanus, turned with admirable skill, if you are of a joyful spirit. However you may read, the sense arises with the poem: for every letter serves in many ways. And what is more wonderful, the image is inhabited by its own numbers: nor was there any labor for the poet. For although these poems consist of a law not easily followed, they all flow with an easy grace.