128

 128. Matins Thursday  Nox atra rerum contegit.  ALL tender lights, all hues divine  The night has swept away; Shine on us, Lord, and we shall shine  Bright in an inward day.  The spots of guilt, sin's wages base,  Searcher of hearts, we own; Wash us and robe us in Thy grace,  Who didst for sins atone.  The sluggard soul, that bears their mark,  Shrinks in its silent lair, Or gropes amid its chambers dark  For Thee, who art not there.  Redeemer! send Thy piercing rays,  That we may bear to be Set in the light of Thy pure gaze,  And yet rejoice in Thee.  Grant this, O Father, etc.