Sunday Evening

Attributed by some, but with a small degree of probability, to Gregory the Great. The hymn occurs in all the editions of the Roman Breviary, as also in the Sarum, York, and Aberdeen Breviaries.

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O Thou Eternal One in Three,
Dread Ruler of the earth and sky,
Accept the praise we yield to Thee,
Who, waking, lift our songs on high.
Now from the couch of rest we rise,
While solemn night in silence reigns,
And lift to Thee our earnest cries,
To give Thy balm to heal our pains.
If in the night by Satan's guile
Our souls were lured by thought of sin;
O bid Thy light celestial smile,
And chase away the night within.
Purge Thou our flesh from every stain,
Let not dull sloth our hearts depress;
Nor let the sense of guilt remain,
To chill the warmth our souls possess.
To Thee, Redeemer blest, we pray,
That in our souls Thy light may shine;
So we shall walk from day to day,
Unerring in Thy way Divine.
Grant it, O Father, in Thy love,
Grant it, O One-begotten Son,
Who with the Spirit reign above,
Now, and while endless ages run.
DEUS CREATOR OMNIUM

By St. Ambrose, born at Lyons, Arles, or Trêves in 340; consecrated Bishop of Milan in 374; died on Easter Eve, 397. He introduced antiphonal chanting into the Western Church, and laid the foundation of Church music, which Gregory systematised.

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Thy works, O God, Thy name extol,
Thou Ruler of the worlds that roll;
The day is clad in garments bright,
And grateful sleep pervades the night,
That weary limbs from labour free,
By rest for toil prepared may be;
And jaded minds awhile forget
The anxious thoughts that pain and fret.
Fast fades the sunlight in the west;
Thy hand we own our day hath blessed;
Now from the accuser's power we flee,
And lift our prayers in song to Thee.
O Thou hast stirred our hearts to sing,
Hast tuned the praise our voices bring;
From earth's vain loves our love hast won,
Hast lured our thoughts that heavenward run.
So, when the rayless gloom of night
Hath quenched in dark the expiring light,
Faith waves the ebon clouds away,
And dark is light, and night is day.
That sin may ne'er an entrance make,
May slumber ne'er our souls o'ertake;
Faith, wakeful, keeps the soul secure,
And sleep is sweet, and deep, and pure.
The mind from sin's enticements free,
O let our dreams be thoughts of Thee;
And by no envious foe oppressed,
Vouchsafe to Thy beloved rest.