Morn Of Morns And Days Of Days
Beauteous were thy newborn rays:
Brighter yet from death’s dark prison
Christ, the Light of lights, is risen.
He commanded, and His Word
Death and the dread chaos heard;
Oh, shall we, more deaf than they,
In the chains of darkness stay?
Nature yet in shadow lies;
Let the sons of light arise,
And present the morning rays
With sweet canticles of praise.
While the dead world sleeps around,
Let the sacred temples sound
Law, and prophet, and blest psalm
Lit with holy light so calm.
Unto hearts in slumber weak
Let the heavenly trumpet speak;
And a newer walk express
Their new life to righteousness.
Grant us this, and with us be,
O Thou Fount of charity,
Thou Who dost the Spirit give,
Bidding the dead letter live.
Glory to the Father, Son,
And to Thee, O Holy One,
By Whose quickening breath divine
Our dull spirits turn and shine.