Lauds—Wednesday

Haunting gloom and flitting shades, Ghastly shapes, away! Christ is rising, and pervades Highest Heaven with day.

He with His bright spear the night Dazzles and pursues; Earth wakes up, and glows with light Of a thousand hues.

Thee, O Christ, and Thee alone, With a single mind, We with chant and plaint would own: To Thy flock be kind.

Much it needs Thy light divine, Spot and stain to clean; Light of Angels, on us shine With Thy face serene.

To the Father, and the Son, And the Holy Ghost, Here be glory, as is done By the angelic host.