The story, according to James of Voragine.
Sequence by Adam of St. Victor:
Laudes Crucis attollamus
Nos qui Crucis exultamus
Speciali gloria:
Nam in Cruce triumphamus,
Hostem ferum superamus
Vitali victoria.
Dulce melos
Tangat coelos!
Dulce lignum
Dulci dignum
Credimus melodia:
Voci vita non discordet;
Cum vox vitam non remordet,
Dulcis est symphonia.
Servi Crucis Crucem laudent,
Per quam Crucem sibi gaudent
Vitae dari munera.
Dicant omnes et dicant singuli:
Ave salus totius saeculi,
Arbor salutifera!
O quam felix, quam praeclara
Fuit haec salutis ara,
Rubens Agni sanguine;
Agni sine macula,
Qui mundavit saecula
Ab antique crimine!
Haec est scala peccatorum,
Per quam Christus, Rex caelorum,
Ad se traxit omnia;
Forma cujus hoc ostendit
Quae terrarum comprehendit
Quatuor confinia.
Non sunt nova sacramenta,
Non recenter est inventa
Crucis haec religio:
Ista dulces aquas fecit;
Per banc silex aquas jecit
Moysis officio.
Nulla salus est in domo,
Nisi cruce munit homo
Superliminaria:
Neque sensit gladium,
Nec amisit filium
Quisquis egit talia.
Ligna legens in Sarepta
Spem salutis est adepta
Pauper muliercula:
Sine lignis fidei
Nec lecythus olei
Valet, nec farinula.
In Scripturis
Sub figuris
Ista latent,
Sed jam patent
Crucis beneficia;
Reges credunt,
Hostes cedunt;
Sola cruce,
Christo duce,
Unus fugat millia.
Roma naves universas
In profundum vidit mersas
Una cum Maxentio:
Fusi Thraces, caesi Persae,
Sed et partis dux adversae,
Victus ab Heraclio.
Ista suos fortiores
Semper facit et victores;
Morbos sanat et languores,
Reprimit daemonia;
Dat captivis libertatem,
Vitae confert novitatem,
Ad antiquam dignitatem:
Crux reduxit omnia.
O Crux, lignum triumphale,
Vera mundi salus, vale!
Inter ligna nullum tale
Fronde, flore, germine;
Medicina Christiana,
Salva sanos, aegros sana:
Quod non valet vis humana
Fit in tuo nomine.
Assistentes Crucis laudi,
Consecrator Crucis, audi,
Atque servos tuae Crucis
Post hanc vitam, verae lucis
Transfer ad palatia;
Quos tormento vis servire,
Fac tormenta non sentire;
Sed quum dies erit irae,
Confer nobis et largire
Sempiterna gaudia. Amen.
Englished by Digby S. Wrangham:
To the Cross its due laudation
Let us give; our exultation
Is its special glory bright:
'Tis the Cross our victory sendeth,
Victory sure, that never endeth,
O'er our fierce foe in the fight.
Sweet strains! flow ye,
Heavenward go ye!
Since for sweetest
Strains the meetest
Count we thee, sweet tree! to be:
But let life and voice be one,
For with these in unison,
Dulcet is the symphony.
Let its servants' praise be given
To the Cross, which life in Heaven,
Joyous gift ! for them prepares:
Yea, one and all, let them its praise rehearse:
All hail! Salvation of the universe!
Tree, that man's salvation bears!
O the blissful exaltation
Of this altar of salvation,
Reddened with the Lamb's blood spilt!
E'en the Lamb without a stain.
Who hath cleansed the world again
From the first man's sin and guilt!
Ladder this to sinners given,
By which Christ, the King of heaven,
All things to Himself hath led ;
Whose form, rightly comprehended,
Shows that its four arms, extended
Wide, o'er earth's four quarters spread.
No new mystery we mention;
'Tis not recent the invention
Of this doctrine of the Cross:
Marah's waters did it sweeten;
And the flint, by Moses beaten
With it, did its torrents toss.
For a house no guard availeth,
O'er whose lintel a man faileth
To erect the Cross's sign:
Sword ne'er smote, nor son was lost,
In the dwelling, whose door-post
Bore aloft the mark divine.
In Sarepta, two sticks gleaning,
The poor widow of attaining
Sure relief good hope did feel;
And, without faith's sticks we use,
Nought avails the oil's small cruse,
Nor the little store of meal.
In the Scriptures,
'Neath type-pictures,
Lie these latent,
But now patent,
Benefits the Cross bestows;
Faith kings cherish;
Foemen perish;
One crusader,
Christ his leader,
Puts to flight a thousand foes.
Rome beheld those vessels founder,
Bridging o'er the river round her.
And Maxentius with them drown:
Thracians flying, Persians dying.
Prone too was the foes' chief lying,
By Heraclius o'erthrown.
'Tis the Cross their courage waketh,
And its own victorious maketh;
Hence disease and weakness taketh;
Doth the powers of hell restrain;
Freedom to the captive giveth,
And new life to all that liveth;
Yea, in everything reviveth
Their old glory once agan.
Cross ! farewell, thou tree of glory!
This world's true salvation's story!
Not a tree is there before thee
Ranked for leaf or bud or flower:
Christian medicine! health assure thou
To the whole; the sick man cure thou:
In thy name, so high and pure, now
Things are done which pass man's power.
Thou, from whom the Cross draws blessing!
Hear us now Thy praise confessing,
And, when this life here is ended,
Those, who on it have attended,
In the halls of true light place.
Serving Thee, should torments try us.
Grant those torments may pass by us:
When the day of wrath draws nigh us,
With eternal joys supply us
Richly of Thy bounteous grace! Amen.