SPLENDOR PATERNAE GLORIAE. O splendor of the Father’s face, Affording light from light, Thou Light of light, thou fount of grace, Thou day of day most bright. O shine upon us, perfect Sun, With lasting brightness shine; Let radiance from the Spirit run, Our senses to refine. To thee, our Father, do we pray, Whose glory endeth not, That thine almighty favor may Remove each sinful spot. He fills our deeds with heavenly strength, He blunts the look of hate, He ends our weary lot at length, Or gives us grace to wait. HIC EST DIES VERUS DEI. This is the very day of God, Serene with holy light, On which the pure atoning blood Has cleansed the world aright. Restoring hope to lost mankind, Enlightening darkened eyes, Relieving fear in us who find The thief in Paradise. Who, changing swiftly cross for crown, By one brief glance of trust, Beheld God’s Kingdom shining down, And followed Christ the Just. The very angels stand amazed, Beholding such a sight, And such a trusting sinner raised To blessed life and light. O mystery beyond our thought, To take earth’s stain away, And lift the burden sin hath brought, And cleanse this coarser clay. What deed can more sublime appear? For sorrow seeks for grace, And love releases mortal fear, And death renews the race. Death seizes on the bitter barb, And binds herself thereto, And life is clad in deathly garb, And life shall rise anew. When death through earth has made her path, Then all the dead shall rise, And death, consumed by heavenly wrath, In groans, and lonely, dies. O LUX BEATA TRINITAS. O blessed light, the Trinity, In Unity of primal love— Now that the burning sun has gone, Our hearts illumine from above. Thee, in the morn with songs of praise, Thee, at the evening time, we seek; Thee, through all ages we adore, And, suppliant of thy love, we speak. To God the Father be the praise, And to his sole-begotten Son, And to the Blessed Comforter, Both now and while all time shall run. The closing scenes in the life of the great bishop were such as became his past. His funeral address over his brother Satyrus is like that of Bernard over his brother Gerard, or like that of Melanchthon above the dead Luther. His eulogy of Theodosius, whom he survived but two years, is conceived in a strain of lofty poetry, several paragraphs opening with the repeated phrase _Dilexi virum illum._ I loved that man!