AT THE COMPLINE.

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour; whom resist stedfast in the faith.-1 PETER V.

"O splendor æterni Patris."

O CHRIST, blest effluence Divine,
True Day, true Light, of lights the Light
That on the heart doth shine,
Scattering the spirit's night.

Lo, the tired sun hath gone to rest,
As night's alternate brow arose,
Thou, who the day hast blest,
Bless us in our repose.

That, though our eyes to slumber yield,
The yearning soul may be above;
We hide us 'neath Thy shield,
We hang upon Thy love.

That, though this outward weary gloom
Weigh us, the soul may find a wing,

And to its holy home

For ever soar and sing.

Hear us, our only Help and Health, Whom Thou hast purchased to be good, Paying the countless wealth

Of Thine own holy blood.

To God the Father, God the Son,

And God the Spirit, glory be,
Co-equal Three in One,

To all eternity.

ON THE FIRST FRIDAY IN LENT.

AT THE VESPERS.

I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications; and they shall look upon Me whom they have pierced.-ZECH. xii.

"Prome vocem, mens, canoram."

DRAW out, sad heart, thy melody,
And tell with plaintive cry

The sorrows of the Crucified,

The wounds of Him that died,
Him, who a willing victim came
To die a spotless Lamb.

By that unpitying fury kill'd,
Our ransom He fulfill'd;

We drink health from His bitter cup,

His Cross doth lift us up,

His stripes for us a balm have found,

"Tis He our wounds hath bound.

With feet and hands transfix'd in pain
He bursts our bonds in twain;

For us a healing fount He bore,

At every bleeding pore:

The nails that hold Thee on the tree

Bind us to that and Thee.

Thy heart, now still'd by death's cold trance,

Hath pierc'd the barbed lance,

Op'ning a door to all below,

Whence blood and water flow:

This hath the fount of cleansing shown,

That is our heavenly crown.

Grant, Saviour, that for us below
These fountains aye may flow,
The cup of healing here to prove,
The cup of bliss above;

Then we will ever sing Thy praise

Through Heav'n's eternal days.

AT THE MATTINS.

When we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him He is despised and rejected of men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from Him He was despised and we esteemed Him not.-Is. liii.

"Quæ te pro populi criminibus nova."

SAY, what strange love works Thee this sad unrest, Drives Thee, the only innocent, to die

For a poor guilty nation so unblest,

That Thou, who art the good and great High-Priest, Shouldst like a cord-bound victim, helpless lie?

The nails, which rend Thy bleeding feet in twain,
Have the enthralling nets of Satan broke,
And let Thy people go: Thy hands, which stain,
Drop after drop, that murderous bed of pain,

From off the captive world have shook the yoke.

That piercing lance hath open'd pardon's door-
Door of that heart which never knew deceit,
Whence blood and water flow, an endless store,
Which heals, sets free, and cleanses evermore :
O wound, that went to Pity's inmost seat!