Page:The seven great hymns of the mediaeval church - 1902.djvu/47

Rh The light that hath no evening,

The health that hath no ore,

The life that hath no ending,

But lateth evermore.

There hall embrace us,

There be embraced—

That pirit's food and unhine

Whence earthly love is chaed.

Amidt the happy chorus,

A place, however low,

Shall hew Him us, and hewing,

Shall atiate evermo.

By hope we truggle onward:

While here we mut be fed

By milk, as tender infants,

But there by Living Bread.

The night was full of terror,

The morn is bright with gladnes;

The Cros becomes our harbor,

And we triumph after adnes.