Monday Evening

AURORA JAM SPARGIT POLUM

Placed by Duffield in a class which contains hymns formerly called Ambrosian, but now known to be the work of other hands. George Cassander, the liberal Catholic collector (1556), writes "Incognitus auctor" after the hymn, which has a place in several old Hymnaria, such as the Durham, the Cottonian, and the Harleian.

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Now daylight floods the morning sky,
And earthward glides the approaching day,
The dancing rays of sunlight chase
The gathered fears of night away.
Hence dreams that cloud the soul! away,
Ye terrors grim of midnight born!
Whate'er the dark of night hath bred,
Die in the light that greets the morn!
So when the day eternal breaks,--
That day for which our spirits long,--
Its light may fall to bless our souls,
E'en while we raise our morning song.
To God the Father throned in heaven,
To Christ the one begotten Son,
And to the Holy Ghost be praise,
Now, and while endless ages run.
JESU, DULCIS MEMORIA

Generally, and there seems little reason to doubt correctly, ascribed to Bernard of Clairvaux. Born in 1091 at his father's castle near Dijon in Burgundy; died, 1153. The monk of Citeaux, the first Abbot of Clairvaux, the Papal controversialist and the preacher of the Second Crusade, is better known in our day as the author of a hymn regarded by many as the sweetest and most Evangelical in mediæval hymnody. The poem from which the hymn is taken consists of nearly fifty quatrains on the name of Jesus, known as the Joyful Rhythm of St. Bernard. In the Roman Breviary three hymns are taken from the Rhythm, Jesu dulcis memoria, Jesu Rex Admirabilis, and Jesu decus angelicum.

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O Jesus, when I think of Thee,
True gladness fills my heart;
But joy unspeakable 'twill be
To see Thee as Thou art.
O blessed name! No note more sweet,
No music so divine;
Its charms the dearest fancies greet
That with my memory twine.
To those who come with sin confessed,
Thy name their hope inspires;
And every needy soul is blessed,
And granted all desires.
To those who seek, ah! Thou art found
Far more than all desire--
A living fount whose streams abound,
A flame of heavenly fire.
What tongue can e'er the charm express?
What words its beauty show?
For Thy dear name's sweet loveliness
No heart can ever know.
Who only taste the heavenly bread,
They hunger for the feast;
Who drink of Christ, the Fountainhead,
But find their thirst increase.
O Jesus, to my fainting heart
When wilt Thou come to speak?
O, when to me Thy bliss impart,
And more than I can seek?
O I will feed and hunger still,
O I will drink and pine
Till Thou my famished spirit fill
With that blest name of Thine.