For all the hours that still remain
  Until the dark his goal attain,
  Alert for duty’s stern command
  Let every soul a sentry stand.

  With sober prayer on Jesus call;
  Let tears with our strong crying fall;
  Sleep cannot on the pure soul steal
  That supplicates with fervent zeal.

  Too long did dull oblivion cloud
  Our motions and our senses shroud: 
  Lulled by her numbing touch, we stray
  In dreamland’s ineffectual way.

  Bound by the dazzling world’s soft chain
  ’Tis false and fleeting gauds we gain,
  Like those who in deep slumbers lie:—­
  Let us awake! the truth is nigh.

  Gold, honours, pleasure, wealth and ease,
  And all the joys that mortals please,
  Joys with a fatal glamour fraught—­
  When morning comes, lo! all are nought.

But thou, O Christ, put sleep to flight
And break the iron bands of night,
Free us from burden of past sin
And shed Thy morning rays within.

II.  HYMNUS MATUTINUS

  Nox et tenebrae et nubila,

confusa mundi et turbida,
lux intrat, albescit polus,
Christus venit, discedite.

  Caligo terrae scinditur 5

percussa solis spiculo,
rebusque iam color redit
vultu nitentis sideris.

    Sic nostra mox obscuritas
  fraudisque pectus conscium 10
  ruptis retectum nubibus
  regnante pallescit Deo.

    Tunc non licebit claudere
  quod quisque fuscum cogitat,
  sed mane clarescent novo 15
  secreta mentis prodita.

    Fur ante lucem squalido
  inpune peccat tempore,
  sed lux dolis contraria
  latere furtum non sinit. 20

    Versuta fraus et callida
  amat tenebris obtegi,
  aptamque noctem turpibus
  adulter occultus fovet.

    Sol ecce surgit igneus, 25
  piget, pudescit, paenitet,
  nec teste quisquam lumine
  peccare constanter potest.

    Quis mane sumptis nequiter
  non erubescit poculis, 30
  cum fit libido temperans
  castumque nugator sapit?

    Nunc, nunc severum vivitur,
  nunc nemo tentat ludicrum,
  inepta nunc omnes sua 35
  vultu colorant serio.

    Haec hora cunctis utilis,
  qua quisque, quod studet, gerat,
  miles, togatus, navita,
  opifex, arator, institor. 40

    Illum forensis gloria,
  hunc triste raptat classicum,
  mercator hinc ac rusticus
  avara suspirant lucra.

    At nos lucelli ac faenoris 45
  fandique prorsus nescii,
  nec arte fortes bellica,
  te, Christe, solum novimus.

    Te mente pura et simplici,
  te voce, te cantu pio 50
  rogare curvato genu
  flendo et canendo discimus.