Hymn Before Sleep

Draw near, Almighty Father,Ne'er seen by mortal eye;Come, O Thou Word eternal,O Spirit blest, be nigh.

One light of threefold Godhead,One power that all transcends;God is of God begotten,And God from both descends.

The hour of rest approaches,The toils of day are past,And o'er our tired bodiesSleep's gentle charm is cast.

The mind, by cares tormentedAmid life's storm and stress,Drinks deep the wondrous potionThat brings forgetfulness.

O'er weary, toil-worn mortalsThe spells of Lethe steal;Sad hearts lose all their sorrow,Nor pain nor anguish feel.

For to His frail creationGod gave this law to keep,That labour should be lightenedBy soft and healing sleep.

But while sweet languor wandersThrough all the pulsing veins,And, wrapt in dewy slumber,The heart at rest remains,

The soul, in wakeful vigour,Aloft in freedom flies,And sees in many a semblanceThe hidden mysteries.

For, freed from care, the spiritThat came from out the sky,Born of the stainless aether,Can never idle lie.

A thousand changing phantomsShe fashions through the night,And 'midst a world of fancyPursues her rapid flight.

But divers are the visionsThat night to dreamers shows;Rare gleams of straying splendourThe future may disclose;

More oft the truth is darkened,And lying fantasyDeceives the affrighted sleeperWith cunning treachery.

To him whose life is holyThe things that are concealedLie open to his spiritIn radiant light revealed;

But he whose heart is blackened,With many a sin imbued,Sees phantoms grim and ghastlyThat beckon and delude.

So in the Egyptian dungeonThe patriarch of oldUnto the king's two servantsTheir fateful visions told:

And one is brought from prisonThe monarch's wine to pour,One, on the gibbet hanging,Foul birds of prey devour,

He warned the king, distractedBy riddles of the night,To hoard the plenteous harvestsAgainst the years of blight.

Soon, lord of half a kingdom,A mighty potentate,He shares the royal sceptreAnd dwells in princely state.

But ah! how deep the secretsThe holy sleeper seesTo whom Christ shows His highest,Most sacred mysteries.

For God's most faithful servantThe clouds were rolled away,And John beheld the wondersThat sealed from mortals lay.

The Lamb of God, encrimsonedWith sacrificial stains,Alone the Book can openThat destiny contains.

By His strong hand is wieldedA keen, two-edged brandThat, flashing like the lightning,Smites swift on either hand.

Before His bar of judgmentBoth soul and body lie;He whom that dread sword smitethThe second death shall die.

Yet mercy tempers justice,And few the Avenger sends(Whose guilt is past all pardon)To death that never ends.

To Him the Father yieldethThe judgment-seat of Heaven;To Him a Name excellingAll other names is given.

For by His strength transcendentShall Antichrist be slain,And from that raging monsterFair trophies shall He gain:

That all-devouring Dragon,With blood of martyrs red,On whose abhorred powerJohn's solemn curse is laid.

And thus the proud usurperOf His high name is castBy Him, the true Christ, vanquishedTo deepest hell at last.

Upon the saint heroicSuch wondrous slumber fallsThat, in the spirit roaming,He treads heaven's highest halls.

We may not, in our weakness,To dreams like these aspire,Whose souls are steeped in errorAnd evil things desire.

Enough, if weary bodiesIn peaceful sleep may rest;Enough, if no dark powersOur slumbering souls molest.

Christian! the font remember,The sacramental vow,The holy water sprinkled,The oil that marked thy brow!

When at sleep's call thou seekestTo rest in slumber chaste,Let first the sacred emblemOn breast and brow be traced.

The Cross dispels all darkness,All sin before it flies,And by that sign protectedThe mind all fear defies.

Avaunt! ye fleeting phantomsThat mock our midnight hours;Avaunt! thou great DeceiverWith all thy guileful powers.

Thou Serpent, old and crafty,Who by a thousand artsAnd manifold temptationsDost vex our sleeping hearts,

Vanish! for Christ is with us;Away! 'tis Christ the Lord:The sign thou must acknowledgeCondemns thy hellish horde.

And, though the weary bodyRelaxed in sleep may be,Our hearts, Lord, e'en in slumber,Shall meditate on Thee.