DAY'S herald bird At length is heard, Telling its morning torch is lit, And small and still Christ's accents thrill, Within the heart rekindling it. Away, He cries, With languid eyes. And sickly slumbers profitless! I am at hand, As watchers stand, In awe, and truth, and holiness. He will appear The hearts to cheer Of suppliants pale and abstinent Who cannot sleep Because they weep With holy griet and violent. Keep us a wake, The fetters break, Jesu! which night has forged for us; Yea, melt the night To sinless light, Till all is bright and glorious. To Father, Son, And Spirit, One, To the Most Holy Trinity, All praise be given In Earth and Heaven, Now, as of old, and endlessly. |