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HYMNS SUNG AT VESPERS ACCORDING TO THE FESTIVAL.

Creator Alme Siderum, For Advent.

O bright Creator of the skies—
Thyself the truest light of all-
Saviour from Satan's blasting thrall.

Receive our vows and suppliant cries!

Thou who, by kindest impulse swayed,
Didst come to heal our every woe,
And the fell tempter's art o'erthrow,

Ere all should be to hell betrayed;

Who from a virgin temple sprung,
The sins of all the world to bear,
And then, for crimes thou couldst not share,

Wast on the cross a victim hung;—

Great, glorious Lord! we pray to thee, Whose very name hath such command, Nor heaven nor hell its power withstand,

But trembling all must bend the knee.

To thee, tremendous judge! we bow;

Last dreadful judge! we crave thine aid.

Be every wily foe dismayed.
Thy saving grace from heaven bestow.

May willing honour, glory, praise,
Be to the Father given and Son
And to the Holy Ghost, whose throat '

United stands for endless days.

Jesu Kedemftor Omnium: For Christmas.

Jesus, the ransomer of man,
Who, ere created light began,
Didst from the sovereign Father spring,
His might and glory equalling;

Thou brightness of the Father's rays.
The hope and end of all our days,
Oh, kindly to the prayers attend
Which round the world to thee ascend.
Think, thou who didst all nature make,
That thou thyself erewhile didst take
The form of man from virgin's womb,
To avert from man his hopeless doom.
This day recalls the deed of grace.
Years fleet: but still we love to trace
The time when from the Father's throne
Thou cam'st to save the world alone.
The stars, the earth, the waters, all
'Neath heaven proclaims the festival!
All with new canticles repeat
Thy praise; and all their Saviour greet.
All—all whom that most holy stream
Of blood, did from sad death redeem,
On this thy natal day, upraise
One voice, and sound the hymn of praise.
Jesus, to thee, the Virgin's Son,
Be everlasting homage done.
To God the Father, we repeat
The same, and to the Paraclete.

Jesu Dulcis Memoria: For II. Sunday

After Efifhany. Jesus! the only thought of thee Gives joy and true serenity: But, oh, than honey far more sweet Our Saviour face to face to meet! No song can be so sweet to hear, No sound so well the heart can cheer, The mind no thought so glad can frame As Jesus Christ's most holy name. O Jesus! kind to sinners' fears, And kind to anxious suppliant prayers. To those who seek for thee, how kind !— What then art thou to those who find? No tongue can make the hearer guess, Nor writing say how thou dost bless: Those only who have tried can tell What 'tis to love their Jesus well. Jesus, our only bliss be thou, Who wilt all future joy bestow! Oh, let our love and glory be For endless ages drawn from thee. Jesus, our king, admir'd, rever'd, The conqueror of all that's fear'd— True sweetness all—thou dost impart, Far more than asks the trembling heart! When thou dost seek the mourner's breast. Truth smiles anew with promise blest, No longer earth and sin defiles, Love warms the soul and hope beguiles.

Jesus! in thee each heart delights.
Thou living fountain, light of lights—
Exceeding every dearest bliss,
And every dream of happiness.

Oh haste to Jesus! hasten all!
May love your every wish enthrall.
Oh, seek your Jesus and adore,
And, seeking, love him more and more.

Oh may our hymns repeat thy name,
And may our lives our love proclaim;
May we for ever Jesus love,
And endless years our love improve.

Whom most thou fav'rest, more will crave;
Who have thee most, far more would have:
Still must the heart that loves thee want.
Still—still for Jesus must it pant.

O Jesus, whom my soul desires,
To whom most fondly it aspires—
For whom calm tears bedew mine eyes—
To whom mine inward spirit sighs ;—

, Oh, stay with us! dear Jesus, stay!
Illume us with thy saving ray.
All darkness from our minds remove,
And fill the world with light and love.

Jesus, the Virgin's only son,
May every heart thy sweetness own.
May honour, blessings, praise, and fame,
For ever hail the" holy name.

Audi Benigne Conditor: For Lent.

Benign Creator! kindly hear

The prayers and sighs in sorrow blent, Which to thy pitying throne we bear,

In this most holy fast of Lent.

O Thou who searches every heart,
And knowest man's infirmity;

Peace and forgiveness now impart,
And may thy grace our wants supply.

Much have we sinned—our ways we blame,
We own, confess our faults to heaven;

Oh, for the glory of thy name,
Kind Jesus, be those faults forgiven!

Oh grant that we may now restrain.
By abstinence, our stubborn will:

That vicious strength may not remain
To urge our wayward hearts to ill.

Oh grant, most holy Trinity,
This fast may every sin efface;

And may our tears productive be
Of blest increase of hope and grace.

Vexilla Regis, For Passion And Palm
Sunday.
See, see the royal banners fly!
Now beams the cross's mystery.
For life was still within the tomb
When death by life was overcome.

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