The wing?d herald of the day Proclaims the morn's approaching ray: And Christ the Lord our souls excites, And so to endless life invites. Take up thy bed, to each He cries, Who sick or wrapped in slumber lies; And chaste and just and sober stand And watch: My coming is at hand. With earnest cry, with tearful care, Call we the Lord to hear our prayer; While supplication, pure and deep, Forbids each chastened heart to sleep. Do Thou, O Christ, our slumber wake: Do Thou the chains of darkness break; Purge Thou our former sins away, And in our souls new light display. All laud to God the Father be, All praise, eternal Son, to Thee; All glory, as is ever meet, To God the holy Paraclete.
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