Aurora Cælum purpurat

 Aurora cælum, the old morning hymn for Lauds.  I've seen it . . .what? . .. a few hundred times?   It impressed me anew this morning.  Here it is in the Stanbrook Abbey translation.

The dawn was purpling o'er the sky;

With alleluias rang the air;

Earth held a glorious jubilee;

Hell gnash'd its teeth in fierce despair;

When our most valiant, mighty King

From death's abyss, in dread array,

Led the long-prison'd Fathers forth,

Into the beam of life and day.

When He, whom stone and seal and guard

Had safely to the tomb consign'd,

Triumphant rose and buried death

Deep in the grave He left behind.

"Calm all your grief, and still your tears,"

Hark! the descending Angel cries,

"For Christ is risen from the dead,

And death is slain, no more to rise."

O Jesu! from the death of sin,

Keep us, we pray: so shalt Thou be

The everlasting Paschal joy

Of all the souls new-born in Thee.

To God the Father, with the Son

Who from the grave immortal rose,

And Thee, O paraclete be praise,

While age on endless ages flows.  Amen.