GLORY of the eternal Heaven,
Blessed Hope to mortals given,
Of the Almighty Only Son,
And the Virgin’s Holy One;
Raise us, Lord, and we shall rise
In a sober mood,
And a zeal, which glorifies
Thee from gratitude.
Now the day-star, keenly glancing,
Tells us of the Sun’s advancing;
While the unhealthy shades decline,
Rise within us, Light Divine!
Rise, and, risen, go not hence,
Stay, and make us bright,
Streaming through each cleansèd sense,
On the outward night.
Then the root of faith shall spread
In the heart new fashionèd;
Gladsome hope shall spring above,
And shall bear the fruit of love.
To the Father, and the Son,
And the Holy Ghost,
Here be glory, as is done
By the angelic host.