134

 134. Lauds Tuesday  Ales diei nuntius.   DAY'S herald bird  At length is heard, Telling its morning torch is lit, And small and still  Christ's accents thrill, Within the heart rekindling it.   Away, He cries,  With languid eyes, And sickly slumbers profitless!  I am at hand,  As watchers stand, In awe, and truth, and holiness.   He will appear  The hearts to cheer Of suppliants pale and abstinent  Who cannot sleep  Because they weep With holy grief and violent.   Keep us awake,  The fetters break, Jesu! which night has forged for us;  Yea, melt the night  To sinless light, Till all is bright and glorious.   To Father, Son,  And Spirit, One, To the Most Holy Trinity,  All praise be given  In Earth and Heaven, Now, as of old, and endlessly.