Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Religion
Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Hymns, Greek -- Translations into English; Orthodox Eastern Church -- Hymns
O darkest night that ever fell!
Before the sun had set,
The light was blotted from the heavens,
And death, and darkness met.
II
For God had turned His face away
From all the sin He bore,
Whom in His love to earth He sent,
To bear our suffering sore.
III
Ah! darkest night that ever falls
On soul of human race,
When God in anger turns away
The brightness of His face;
IV
Then, sun and moon, and stars are lost,
Amid' our hopeless night;
And all the radiant bliss of life
Is curtained from our sight.
V
O Christ, Thou art our Light, and Sun,
Our Hope 'mid guilty fears;
No night surrounds Thy presence now,
Nor threatening cloud appears;
VI
And sin and death no longer reign,
Nor day to dark declines,
For, from the Father's face, a light
Of reconcilement shines.
I
Nailed to the cross the Saviour dies,
While earth is moved with sore dismay,
And e'en the sun, though high at noon,
In anguish veils the light of day.
II
Then hell and darkness riot held,
And sin and death combined their power
To crush the Christ Whom sinful men
Had hastened to that awful hour.
III
But O, 'twas darkness deeper still
Than o'er the earth in blackness lay,
When God beheld the suffering Son,
And turned from Him His face away.
IV
Ah! whence that suffering? Whence that woe?
The horror felt by earth and sky?
The victory of the powers of night,
That doomed the God-man there to die?
V
My soul distressed, look up! behold!
With light from heaven the earth is filled;--
The Christ that awful conflict met,
Because a God of wisdom willed.
VI
Now sin its latest shaft has hurled,
And death put forth its utmost might,
But, lo, the Christ the conflict stood,
And sin and death are vanquished, quite.
VII
Glory to Thee our souls proclaim,
Great Son of God, Thou Victor strong;
Thy love inspires our hearts to sing,
The victory fills our endless song.
I
O Son of God, afflicted,
And slain for sinful men,
My soul hath oft' depicted
What Thou didst suffer then,--
The pain, the grief, the sighing,
The burden of Thy woe,
The cross, the shame, the dying
That filled Thy life below.
II
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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