Hymns of the Eastern Church

tr. Neale, 1862

1. S. Anatolius

Stichera for a Sunday of the First Tone

ζοφερᾶς τρικυμίας.

Fierce was the wild billow;
Dark was the night;
Oars labour’d heavily;
Foam glimmer’d white;
Mariners trembled;
Peril was nigh;
Then said the God of God,
—“Peace! It is I!”

Ridge of the mountain-wave,
Lower thy crest!
Wail of Euroclydon,
Be thou at rest!
Peril can none be,—
Sorrow must fly,—
Where saith the Light of Light,
—“Peace! It is I!”

Jesu, Deliverer!
Come Thou to me:
Soothe Thou my voyaging
Over Life’s sea!
Thou, when the storm of Death
Roars, sweeping by,
Whisper, O Truth of Truth!
—“Peace! It is I!”

Evening Hymn

τὴν ἡμέραν διελθών.

The day is past and over:
All thanks, O Lord, to Thee!
I pray Thee now, that sinless
The hours of dark may be.
O Jesu! keep me in Thy sight,
And save me through the coming night!

The joys of day are over:
I lift my heart to Thee;
And ask Thee, that offenceless
The hours of dark may be.
O Jesu! make their darkness light,
And save me through the coming night!

The toils of day are over:
I raise the hymn to Thee;
And ask that free from peril
The hours of dark may be.
O Jesu! keep me in Thy sight,
And guard me through the coming night!

Lighten mine eyes, O Saviour,
Or sleep in death shall I;
And he, my wakeful tempter,
Triumphantly shall cry:
“He could not make their darkness light,
Nor guard them through the hours of night!”

Be Thou my soul’s preserver,
O God! for Thou dost know
How many are the perils
Through which I have to go:
Lover of men! O hear my call,
And guard and save me from them all!

S. Stephen’s Day. Stichera at Vespers

τῷ Βασιλεῖ καὶ Δεσπότῃ.

The Lord and King of all things
But yesterday was born:
And Stephen’s glorious off’ring
His birthtide shall adorn.
No pearls of orient splendour,
No jewels can he show;
But with his own true heart’s blood
His shining vestments glow.

Come, ye that love the Martyrs,
And pluck the flow’rs of song,
And weave them in a garland
For this our suppliant throng:
And cry,—O Thou that shinest
In grace’s brightest ray,
Christ’s valiant Protomartyr,
For peace and favour pray!

Death shall be thy birth’s beginning,
And life’s losing be the winning
Of a true and better life.

Whom the Holy Ghost endueth,
Whom celestial sight imbueth,
Stephen penetrates the skies:
There God’s fullest glory viewing,
There his victor strength renewing,
For his near reward he sighs.

See, as Jewish foes invade thee,
See, how Jesus stands to aid thee:
Stands, to guard His champion’s death!
Cry that opened Heav’n is shown thee:
Cry that Jesus waits to own thee:
Cry it with thy latest breath!

As the dying Martyr kneeleth,
For his murderers he appealeth,
And his prayer their pardon sealeth,
For their madness grieving sore;
Then in Christ he sleepeth sweetly,
Who His pattern kept completely,
And with Christ he reigneth meetly,
Martyr first-fruits, evermore!

Stichera for Christmas-tide

μέγα καὶ παράδοξον θαῦμα.

A great and mighty wonder,
The festal makes secure:
The Virgin bears the Infant
With Virgin-honour pure.

The Word is made Incarnate,
And yet remains on high:
And Cherubim sing anthems
To shepherds from the sky.

And we with them triumphant
Repeat the hymn again:
“To God on high be glory,
And peace on earth to men!”

While thus they sing your Monarch,
Those bright angelic bands,
Rejoice, ye vales and mountains!
Ye oceans, clap your hands!

Since all He comes to ransom,
By all be He adored,
The Infant born in Bethlehem,
The Saviour and the Lord!

And idol forms shall perish,
And error shall decay,
And Christ shall wield His sceptre,
Our Lord and God for aye.

Idiomelon for Christmas

ἐν Βηθλεέμ.

In Bethlehem is He born,
Maker of all things, everlasting God!
He opens Eden’s gate,
Monarch of Ages! Thence the fiery sword
Gives glorious passage; thence
That severing mid-wall overthrown, the Powers
Of earth and Heav’n are one:
Angels and men renew their ancient league,
The pure rejoin the pure
In happy union! Now the Virgin-womb,
Like some Cherubic throne,
Containeth Him, the Uncontainable:
Bears Him, Whom while they bear
The Seraphs tremble: bears Him, as He comes
To shower upon the world
The fulness of His everlasting love.