WEDNESDAY.

NOCTURN.

(Miramur, O Deus, tuæ. No. 23.)

THE wonders of th' Almighty hand
Devoutly we admire,
Inscribed upon the vault above
In characters of fire.

The sun is ruler of the day,

The moon controls the night;
The starry hosts adorn the sky
With varied streams of light.

This ruler of the day must set,
And hide his dazzling rays,
The moon and starry hosts observe
Their own appointed days.

Thus still revolves each orb of light,
Now hidden, now displayed:
Thou, Lord, for ever art the same;
Thy mercy knows no shade.

Oh! fear not, doubt not, that our God
Hath all a father's care;

With joy to heaven your hearts uplift, For endless joys are there.

All glory to the Three in One,

The God of joy and peace,

Who comforts those who trust to Him,

And bids their sorrows cease.

MATINS.

(Promittis, et servas datam. No. 24.)

A FAITHFUL promise thou hast made,
And thou wilt keep the same:
This promise, Lord, at early morn
In earnest prayer we claim.

Man, faithless man, the promise breaks
His guileful lips have made;

Like broken reeds, which pierce the hand That trusts their treach'rous aid.

Blessed, then, are they who can repose Entirely on thy breast;

No tempest-shock shall e'er prevail

To shake them from their rest.

For thou hast sworn a sacred oath,
On which our hearts rely,
And look beyond these mean abodes,
To dwellings in the sky.

Yes, hope already claims her seat
Beside th' eternal throne,
Tastes all the streams of Paradise,
And counts them for her own.

O ever-blessed Trinity,

Thou source of endless grace, The hope of glory through thy love May we with joy embrace!

22

EVENSONG.

(Horres superbos, nec tuam. No. 25.)

O GOD, the hateful pride of man
Shall not usurp thy praise :
Yet arrogance too oft presumes
Her shameless front to raise.

Too oft, through man's ingratitude,
Thy blessings cease to flow;
And thus, upon the withered heart,
No fruits of love can grow.

But

we,

like faithful servants, bent

To know their Master's will,
Will never turn our eyes away
From thy celestial hill.

And, oh! if thou delay to send
The long-expected aid,

Yet hope remains, an anchor strong,
On which our souls are stayed.

The Father, and the eternal Son,
Our praises shall employ;
Who sends the Holy Ghost to be
A pledge of future joy.

THURSDAY.

NOCTURN.

(Tisdem creati fluctibus. No. 26.)

THE deep a two-fold offspring bore,
Men's bodies to maintain;

The birds, that skim the liquid air,
The fish, that cleave the main.

But God provides far other food
Th' immortal soul to feed:
It lives by faith, on all the words
That from His mouth proceed.

Faith, resting on the blood of Christ,
Still holds its conquering way,

Till sinners, through the vanquished world,
Its mighty power obey.

By faith the saints of old were taught

The lion's wrath to tame;

A tyrant's threatenings to despise,
And quench the raging flame.

And, oh! may we by faith discern
The way that leads to God,
And pluck the holy fruits of love
That meet us on our road.

To God the Father, God the Son,
And God the Holy Ghost,

All glory be from saints on earth,
And from the angel-host.

MATINS.

(Dignas quis O Deus tibi. No. 27.)

OH, how can worthy praises, Lord,
To Thee by man be given !
From whom alone true light proceeds,
To show the way to heaven.

The faith we need to serve thee well,
Thou dost thyself supply,

That faith which sanctifies the heart,
And lifts the soul on high.

No pompous rites can e'er atone

For want of grace within:

The secret prayer, the lowly sigh,
Thy favour best can win.

For then the heart and lips can join,
To yield thy meed of praise:
And with a free and cheerful voice,
Salvation's song can raise.

O Thou, who dost the proud abhor,
And humble souls approve,
That we in holy faith may grow,
Our sinful pride remove.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Our praises shall ascend,
For on the blood of Christ, alone,
Our faithful hearts depend.