144. Vespers—Monday
|
{250}
Immense cœli conditor. |
LORD of unbounded space, |
| Who, lest the sky
and main |
| Should mix, and heaven should lose its place, |
| Didst the rude
waters chain; |
Parting the moist and rare, |
| That rills on earth
might flow |
| To soothe the angry flame, whene'er |
| It ravens from
below; |
Pour on us of Thy grace |
| The everlasting
spring; |
| Lest our frail steps renew the trace |
| Of the ancient
wandering. {251} |
May faith in lustre grow, |
| And rear her star
in heaven, |
| Paling all sparks of earth below, |
| Unquench'd by damps
of even. |
Grant it, O Father, Son, |
| And Holy Spirit of
grace, |
| To whom be glory, Three in One, |
| In every time and
place. |