What though, by earthly woes oppressed, The body wearied lies, Yet may our spirit freely wing Its passage to the skies. Oh thou, who art our only hope, To God the Father, God the Son, FOR EASTER. (Jesu, redemptor seculi. No. 16.) OH Thou, who wast for sinners slain, And captive led'st captivity: While night surrounds us, dark and deep, And we our eyelids close in sleep, Do thou thy shield around us throw, Thy gentle sleep consigns to rest With thee to die, oh Christ, is gain : Now to the Father and the Son, All praise on earth, all praise in heaven. Amen. MONDAY. NOCTURN. (Dei canamus gloriam. No. 17.) COME let us praise the name of God Who spread the lofty skies; And to the firmament above Uplift our wond'ring eyes. Slow floating in the blue expanse Whence fruitful showers, at God's command, The thirsty soil bedew. How fair a type of God's free grace Which to our souls is given: It drops into the inner man And as the faithful heart receives In rapture sweet 'tis raised aloft Oh happy saints, on whom are poured Oh, may they show a thankful heart, To God the Father, God the Son, MATINS. (Nil laudibus nostris eges. No. 18.) OUR praises, Lord, thou dost not need, And thou art pleased thy grace to yield Thy dark decrees are like the night, Thy wonders, Lord, oppress the mind, And will not hold its peace. Oh let it then break forth to thee, Our Father and our Lord, Our only consolation now, Our future great reward. Yes, thither tend our eager hearts, Amen. EVENSONG. (Jactamur heu quot fluctibus. No. 19.) WHEN storms and tempests o'er us roll, To thee, oh God, our anxious soul Thou, Father, dost thine aid afford, The sufferings that our souls oppress, Oh, then, what full success shall smile Who would not gladly weep awhile To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, TUESDAY. NOCTURN. (Jubes, et in præceps aquis. No. 20.) He speaks the word; the floods obey, And sink into their bed: Emerging from her liquid veil, Earth shows her new-born head. This to His children, for their home, One common earth contains them all, We've no abiding city here, But there's a home above, But they whose dark deceitful arts They shall not of thy love partake, C |