Vespers—Wednesday

O Lord, who, thron’d in the holy height, Through plains of ether didst diffuse The dazzling beams of light, In soft transparent hues;

Who didst, on the fourth day, in heaven Light the fierce cresset of the sun, And the meek moon at even, And stars that wildly run;

That they might mark and arbitrate ’Twixt alternating night and day, And tend the train sedate Of months upon their way;

Clear, Lord, the brooding night within, And clean these hearts for Thy abode, Unlock the spell of sin, Crumble its giant load.

Grant it, O Father, Only Son, And Holy Spirit, God of grace, To whom all praise be done In every time and place.