we may attain
Life everlasting after this,
And heaven for earthly pain.
Grant this, O Father, Only Son,
And Spirit, God of grace,
To whom all worship shall be done
In every time and place.
CXXV
Matins—Monday
Somno refectis artubus.
Sleep has refresh’d our limbs, we spring
From off our bed, and rise;
Lord, on Thy suppliants, while they sing,
Look with a Father’s eyes.
Be Thou the first on every tongue,
The first in every heart;
That at all our doings all day long,
Holiest! from Thee may start.
Cleanse Thou the gloom, and bid the light
Its healing beams renew;
The sins, which have crept in with night,
With night shall vanish too.
Our bosoms, Lord, unburthen Thou,
Let nothing there offend;
That those who hymn Thy praises now
May hymn them to the end.
Grant this, O Father, Only Son,
And Spirit, God of grace,
To whom all worship shall be done
In every time and place.
CXXVI
Matins—Tuesday
Consors Paterni luminis.
O God from God, and Light from Light,
Who art Thyself the day,
Our chants shall break the clouds of night;
Be with us while we pray.
Chase Thou the gloom that haunts the mind,
The thronging shades of hell,
The sloth and drowsiness that bind
The senses with a spell.
Lord, to their sins indulgent be,
Who, in this hour forlorn,
By faith in what they do not see,
With songs prevent the morn.
Grant this, O Father, etc.
CXXVII
Matins—Wednesday
Rerum Creator optime.
Who madest all and dost control,
Lord, with Thy touch divine,
Cast out the slumbers of the soul,
The rest that is not Thine.
Look down, Eternal Holiness,
And wash the sins away,
Of those, who, rising to confess,
Outstrip the lingering day.
Our hearts and hands by night, O Lord,
We lift them in our need;
As holy Psalmists give the word,
And holy Paul the deed.
Each sin to Thee of years gone by,
Each hidden stain lies bare;
We shrink not from Thine awful eye,
But pray that Thou wouldst spare.
Grant this, O Father, etc.
CXXVIII
Matins—Thursday
Nox atra rerum contegit.
All tender lights, all hues divine
The night has swept away;
Shine on us, Lord, and we shall shine
Bright in an inward day.
The spots of guilt, sin’s wages base,
Searcher of hearts, we own;
Wash us and robe us in Thy grace,
Who didst for sins atone.
The sluggard soul, that bears their mark,
Shrinks in its silent lair,
Or gropes amid its chambers dark
For Thee, who art not there.
Redeemer! send Thy piercing rays,
That we may bear to be
Set in the light of Thy pure gaze,
And yet rejoice in Thee.
Grant this, O Father, etc.
CXXIX
Matins—Friday
Tu Trinitatis Unitas.
May the dread Three in One, who sways
All with His sovereign might,
Accept us for this hymn of praise,
His watchers in the night.
For in the night, when all is still
We spurn our bed and rise,
To find the balm for ghostly ill,
His bounteous hand supplies.
If e’er by night our envious foe
With guilt our souls would stain,
May the deep streams of mercy flow,
And make us white again;
That so with bodies braced and bright,
And hearts awake within,
All fresh and keen may burn our light,
Undimm’d, unsoil’d by sin.
Shine on Thine own, Redeemer sweet!
Thy radiance increate
Through the long day shall keep our feet
In their pure morning state.
Grant this, O Father, etc.
Father of mercies infinite,
Ruling all things that be,
Who, shrouded in the depth and height,
Art One, and yet art Three;
Accept our chants, accept our tears,
A mingled stream we pour;
Such stream the laden bosom cheers,
To taste Thy sweetness more.
Purge Thou with fire the o’ercharged mind,
Its sores and wounds profound;
And with the watcher’s girdle bind
The limbs which sloth has bound.
That they who with their chants by night
Before Thy presence come,
All may be fill’d with strength and light
From their eternal home.
Grant this, O Father, etc.
CXXXI
Lauds—Sunday
Aeterne rerum conditor.
Framer of the earth and sky,
Ruler of the day and night,
With a glad variety,
Tempering all, and making light;
Gleams upon our dark path flinging,
Cutting short each night begun,
Hark! for chanticleer is singing,
Hark! he chides the lingering sun.
And the morning star replies,
And lets loose the imprison’d day;
And the godless bandit flies
From his haunt and from his prey.
Shrill it sounds, the storm relenting
Soothes the weary seaman’s ears;
Once it wrought a great repenting,
In that flood of Peter’s tears.
Rouse we; let the blithesome cry
Of that bird our hearts awaken;
Chide the slumberers as they lie,
And arrest the sin-o’ertaken.
Hope and health are in his strain,
To the fearful and the ailing;
Murder sheathes his blade profane,
Faith revives when faith was failing.
Jesu, Master! when we sin,
Turn on us Thy healing face;
It will melt the offence within
Into penitential grace:
Beam on our bewilder’d mind,
Till its dreamy shadows flee;
Stones cry out where Thou hast shined,
Jesu! musical with Thee.
To the Father and the Son,
And the Spirit, who in Heaven
Ever witness, Three and One,
Praise on Earth be ever given.
CXXXII
Lauds—Sunday
Ecce jam noctis.
Paler have grown the shades of night,
And nearer draws the day,
Checkering the sky with streaks of light,
Since we began to pray:
To pray for mercy when we sin,
For cleansing and release,
For ghostly safety, and within
For everlasting peace.
Praise to the Father, as is meet,
Praise to the Only Son,
Praise to the Holy Paraclete,
While endless ages run.
Of the Father Effluence bright,
Out of Light evolving light,
Light from Light, unfailing Ray,
Day creative of the day:
Truest Sun, upon us stream
With Thy calm perpetual beam,
In the Spirit’s still sunshine
Making sense and thought divine.
Seek we too the Father’s face,
Father of almighty grace,
And of majesty excelling,
Who can purge our tainted
