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.