'O quam iuvat fratres, Deus.'
How sweet the days, O Lord, are sped,
When brethren, owning Christ their Head,
From whom they live, on whom they feed,
Are one in spirit and in deed.
How sweet to Thee in purest lays
High lauds beneath one roof to raise;
With banded prayers like valiant men
To storm heaven-gate, and entrance win.
O love we this fair home, nor cease
To work her weal in busy peace!
'O woe to him that will not fear
To scatter seeds of discord here!'
Yet every loss to gain shall turn
For hearts that Christ in all discern;
Who fiercer fights is fairer crowned,
And foes deal honour with the wound.
More fell by far the flattering tongue
That saps the breast with secret wrong,
And sliding in unheeded slays
The soul with sweets of poisoned praise.
Grant us to live, blest Trinity,
In sweet exchange of charity,
And lighten each his brother's load,
Treading the heavenward, homeward road.
CHARLES COFFIN (Paris Breviary).
tr. by EDWARD WHITE BENSON,
Archbishop.
The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended,
The darkness falls at Thy behest;
To Thee our morning hymns ascended,
Thy praise shall sanctify our rest.
We thank Thee that Thy Church unsleeping,
While earth rolls onward into light,
Through all the world her watch is keeping,
And rests not now by day or night.
As o'er each continent and island
The dawn leads on another day,
The voice of prayer is never silent,
Nor dies the strain of praise away.
The sun that bids us rest is waking
Our brethren 'neath the western sky,
And hour by hour fresh lips are making
Thy wondrous doings heard on high.
So be it, Lord; Thy throne shall never,
Like earth's proud empires, pass away;
Thy kingdom stands and grows for ever,
Till all Thy creatures own Thy sway.
'Lux ecce surgit aurea.'
Lo! the golden light is peering,
Let the dimness fleet away
Which so long hath kept us veering
From the narrow path astray.
May the morn, sweet calmness breathing,
Keep us, mornlike, chaste and pure;
In our lips no falsehood sheathing,
In our hearts no sin obscure.
So the day, all smoothly gliding,
May preserve our tongue from guile,
Eyes from wandering, feet from sliding,
Hands from aught that can defile.
All day long an eye is o'er us
Which our every secret knows,
Sees our every step before us
From first morn till evening's close.
To the Father lauds unending,
To the Son and Spirit blest,
Still from age to age ascending,
Be throughout all worlds addrest.
AURELIUS CLEMENS PRUDENTIUS.
tr. by WILLIAM JOHN COPELAND.
Christ, whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only Light,
Sun of righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night;
Dayspring from on high, be near;
Daystar, in my heart appear.
Dark and cheerless is the morn
Unaccompanied by Thee;
Joyless is the day's return,
Till Thy mercy's beams I see;
Till they inward light impart,
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.
Visit then this soul of mine,
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill me, Radiancy divine,
Scatter all my unbelief;
More and more Thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.
'Te lucis ante terminum.'
Ere darkling wanes the day,
O all enlightening Lord,
For pity and for love, we pray,
Be Thou our watch and ward.
Unhallowed dreams dispel
Of wandering fancy born,
From ghostly malice shield us well
In stainless sleep till morn.
O Father, hear us pray,
Hear us, O Son and Lord,
Hear, Holy Ghost, who art for aye
With Sire and Son adored.
Author unknown.
tr. by EDWARD WHITE BENSON, Archbishop.
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