Hymns of the Eastern Church

tr. Neale, 1862

3. S. John Damascene

Canon for Easter Day, Called the Golden Canon, the Queen of Canons · Ode I

ἀναστάσεως ἡμέρα.

’Tis the Day of Resurrection:
Earth! tell it out abroad!
The Passover of Gladness!
The Passover of God!
From Death to Life Eternal,—
From earth unto the sky,
Our Christ hath brought us over,
With hymns of victory.

Our hearts be pure from evil,
That we may see aright
The Lord in rays eternal
Of Resurrection-Light:
And, listening to His accents,
May hear, so calm and plain,
His own—All Hail!—and hearing,
May raise the victor strain!

Now let the Heav’ns be joyful!
Let earth her song begin!
Let the round world keep triumph,
And all that is therein:
Invisible and visible
Their notes let all things blend,—
For Christ the Lord hath risen,—
Our Joy That hath no end.

Ode III

Δεῦτε πόμα πίωμεν.

Come and let us drink of that New River,
Not from barren Rock divinely poured,
But the Fount of Life that is for ever
From the Sepulchre of Christ the Lord.

All the world hath bright illumination,—
Heav’n and Earth and things beneath the earth:
’Tis the Festival of all Creation:
Christ hath ris’n, Who gave Creation birth.

Yesterday with Thee in burial lying,
Now to-day with Thee aris’n I rise;
Yesterday the partner of Thy dying,
With Thyself upraise me to the skies.

Ode IV

ἐπὶ τῆς θέιας φυλακῆς.

Stand on thy watch-tower, Habakkuk the Seer,
And show the Angel, radiant in his light:
To-day, saith he, Salvation shall appear,
Because the Lord hath ris’n, as God of Might.

The male that opes the Virgin’s womb is He;
The Lamb of Whom His faithful people eat;
Our truer Passover from blemish free;
Our very God, Whose Name is all complete.

This yearling Lamb, our sacrifice most blest,
Our glorious Crown, for all men freely dies:
Our cleansing Pascha, beauteous from His rest,
Behold the Sun of Righteousness arise.

Before the ark, a type to pass away,
David of old time danced: we, holier race,
Seeing the Antitype come forth to-day,
Hail with a shout, Christ’s own Almighty grace.

Ode V

ὀρθρίσωμεν ὄρθρου βαθέος.

Let us rise in early morning,
And, instead of ointments, bring,
Hymns of praises to our Master,
And His Resurrection sing:
We shall see the Sun of Justice
Risen with healing on His wing.

Thy unbounded loving-kindness,
They that groaned in Hades’ chain,
Prisoners, from afar beholding,
Hasten to the light again;
And to that eternal Pascha
Wove the dance and raised the strain.

Go ye forth, His Saints, to meet Him!
Go with lamps in every hand!
From the sepulchre He riseth:
Ready for the Bridegroom stand:
And the Pascha of salvation
Hail, with His triumphant band.

Ode VI

κατῆλθες ἐν τοῖς κατωτάτοις.

Into the dim earth’s lowest parts descending,
And bursting by Thy might the infernal chain
That bound the prisoners, Thou, at three days’ ending
As Jonah from the whale, hast risen again.

Thou brakest not the seal, Thy surety’s token,
Arising from the tomb, Who left’st in birth
The portals of virginity unbroken,
And op’st the gates of heaven to sons of earth,

Thou, Sacrifice ineffable and living,
Didst to the Father, by Thyself atone
As God eternal: resurrection giving
To Adam, general parent, by Thine own.

Ode VII

Ὁ παῖδας ἐκ καμίνου.

Who from the fiery furnace saved the Three,
Suffers as mortal; that, His passion o’er,
This mortal, triumphing o’er death, might be,
Vested with immortality once more.
He Whom our fathers still confest
God over all, for ever blest.

The women with their ointment seek the tomb,
And Whom they mourned as dead, with many a tear,
They worship now, joy dawning on their gloom,
As Living God, as mystic Passover;
Then to the Lord’s Disciples gave
The tidings of the vanquished grave.

We keep the festal of the death of death:
Of hell o’erthrown: the first-fruits pure and bright,
Of life eternal; and with joyous breath
Praise Him That won the victory by His might:
Him Whom our fathers still confessed
God over all, for ever blest.

All hallowed festival, in splendour born!
Night of salvation and of glory! Night
Fore-heralding the Resurrection morn!
When from the tomb the everlasting Light,
A glorious frame once more His own,
Upon the world in splendour shone.

Ode VIII

αὕτη ἡ κλητή.

Thou hallowed chosen day! that first
And best and greatest shinest!
Lady and Queen and Feast of feasts,
Of things divine, divinest!
On thee our praises Christ adore,
For ever and for evermore.

Come, let us taste the vine’s new fruit
For heavenly joy preparing:
On this propitious day, with Christ
His Resurrection sharing:
Whom as True God our hymns adore
For ever and for evermore.

Raise, Sion, raise thine eyes! for lo!
Thy scattered sons have found thee:
From East and West, and North and South,
Thy children gather round thee;
And in thy bosom Christ adore,
For ever and for evermore!

O Father of unbounded might!
O Son and Holy Spirit!
In Persons Three, in Substance One,
Of one co-equal merit;
In Thee baptiz’d, we Thee adore
For ever and for evermore!

Ode IX

φωτίζου, φωτίζου.

Thou New Jerusalem, arise and shine!
The glory of the Lord on thee hath risen!
Sion, exult! rejoice with joy divine,
Mother of God! Thy Son hath burst His prison.

O Heavenly Voice! O word of purest love!
‘Lo! I am with you alway to the end:’
This is the anchor, steadfast from above,
The golden anchor, whence our hopes depend.

O Christ, our Pascha! greatest, holiest, best!
God’s Word and Wisdom and effectual Might!
Thy fuller, lovelier presence manifest,
In that eternal realm, that knows no night!

S. Thomas’s Sunday · Ode I

ἄσωμεν πάντες λάοι.

Come, ye faithful, raise the strain
Of triumphant gladness!
God hath brought His Israel
Into joy from sadness:
Loosed from Pharaoh’s bitter yoke
Jacob’s sons and daughters;
Led them with unmoistened foot
Through the Red Sea waters.

’Tis the Spring of souls to-day:
Christ hath burst His prison;
And from three days’ sleep in death,
As a sun, hath risen.

All the winter of our sins,
Long and dark, is flying
From His Light, to Whom we give
Laud and praise undying.

Now the Queen of Seasons, bright
With the Day of Splendour,
With the royal Feast of feasts,
Comes its joy to render:
Comes to glad Jerusalem,
Who with true affection
Welcomes, in unwearied strains,
Jesu’s Resurrection.

Neither might the gates of death,
Nor the tomb’s dark portal,
Nor the watchers, nor the seal,
Hold Thee as a mortal:
But to-day amidst the Twelve
Thou didst stand, bestowing
That Thy peace, which evermore
Passeth human knowing.

Ode III

στερέωσόν με, Χριστέ.

On the rock of Thy commandments
Fix me firmly, lest I slide:
With the glory of Thy Presence
Cover me on every side;
Seeing none save Thee is holy,
God, for ever glorified!

New immortal out of mortal,
New existence out of old;
This the Cross of Christ accomplished,
This the Prophets had foretold:
So that we, thus newly quickened,
Might attain the heavenly fold.

Thou Who comprehendest all things,
Comprehended by the tomb,
Gav’st Thy Body to the graveclothes
And the silence and the gloom:
Till through fast-closed doors Thou camest
Thy Disciples to illume.

Every nail-print, every buffet,
Thou didst freely undergo,
As Thy Resurrection’s witness
To the Twelve Thou cam’st to show:
So that what they saw in vision,
Future years by faith might know.

Ode IV

μέγα τὸ μυστήριον.

Christ, we turn our eyes to Thee,
And this mighty mystery!
Habakkuk exclaimed of old,
In the Holy Spirit bold,
‘Thou shalt come in time appointed,
For the help of Thine anointed!’

Taste of myrrh He deign’d to know,
Who redeem’d the source of woe:
Now He bids all sickness cease
Through the honey-comb of peace:
And to this world deigns to give
That sweet fruit by which we live.

Patient Lord! with loving eye
Thou invitest Thomas nigh;
Showing of that Wounded Side:
While the world is certified,
How the third day, from the grave,
Jesus Christ arose to save.

Blest, O Didymus, the tongue
Where that first confession hung:
First the Saviour to proclaim,
First the Lord of Life to name:
Such the graces it supplied,
—That dear touch of Jesu’s side!

The Stichera of the Last Kiss

Δεῦτε τελευταῖον ἄσπασμον δῶμεν.

Take the last kiss,—the last for ever!
Yet render thanks amidst your gloom:
He, severed from his home and kindred,
Is passing on towards the tomb:
For earthly labours, earthly pleasures,
And carnal joys, he cares no more:
Where are his kinsfolk and acquaintance?
They stand upon another shore.
Let us say, around him pressed,
Grant him, Lord, eternal rest!

The hour of woe and separation,
The hour of falling tears is this.
Him that so lately was among us
For the last time of all we kiss:
Up to the grave to be surrendered,
Sealed with the monumental stone,
A dweller in the house of darkness,
Amidst the dead to lie alone.
Let us say, around him pressed,
Grant him, Lord, eternal rest!

Life, and life’s evil conversation,
And all its dreams, are passed away.
The soul hath left her tabernacle:
Black and unsightly grows the clay:
The golden vessel here lies broken:
The tongue no voice of answer knows:
Hushed is sensation, stilled is motion;
Toward the tomb the dead man goes.
Let us cry with heart’s endeavour,
Grant him rest that is for ever!

What is our life? A fading flower;
A vapour, passing soon away;
The dewdrops of the early morning:——
Come, gaze upon the tombs to-day.
Where now is youth? Where now is beauty,
And grace of form, and sparkling eye?
All, like the summer grass, are withered;
All are abolished utterly!
While our eyes with grief grow dim,
Let us weep to Christ for him!

Woe for that bitter, bitter moment,
The fearful start, the parting groan,
The wrench of anguish, from the body
When the poor soul goes forth alone!
Hell and destruction are before her;
Earth in its truest worth she sees;
A flickering shade; a dream of error;
A vanity of vanities.
Sin in this world let us flee,
That in heaven our place may be.

Draw nigh, ye sons of Adam; viewing
A likeness of yourselves in clay:
Its beauty gone; its grace disfigured;
Dissolving in the tomb’s decay;
The prey of worms and of corruption,
In silent darkness mouldering on;
Earth gathers round the coffin, hiding
The brother, now for ever gone.
Yet we cry, around him pressed,
Grant him, Lord, eternal rest!

When, hurried forth by fearful angels,
The soul forsakes her earthly frame,
Then friends and kindred she forgetteth,
And this world’s cares have no more claim,
Then passed are vanity and labour;
She hears the Judge’s voice alone;
She sees the ineffable tribunal:
Where we, too, cry with suppliant moan,
For the sins that soul hath done,
Grant Thy pardon, Holy One!

Now all the organs of the body,
So full of energy before,
Have lost perception, know not motion,
Can suffer and can act no more.
The eyes are closed in death’s dark shadow;
The ear can never hear again;
The feet are bound; the hands lie idle;
The tongue is fast as with a chain.
Great and mighty though he be,
Every man is vanity.

Behold and weep me, friends and brethren!
Voice, sense, and breath, and motion gone;
But yesterday I dwelt among you;
Then death’s most fearful hour came on.
Embrace me with the last embracement;
Kiss me with this, the latest kiss;
Never again shall I be with you;
Never with you share woe or bliss.
I go toward the dread tribunal
Where no man’s person is preferred;
Where lord and slave, where chief and soldier,
Where rich and poor, alike are heard:
One is the manner of their judgment;
Their plea and their condition one:
And they shall reap in woe or glory
The earthly deeds that they have done.
I pray you, brethren, I adjure you,
Pour forth to Christ the ceaseless prayer,
He would not doom me to Gehenna,
But in His glory give me share!

Idiomela for All Saints

τὰς ἕδρας τὰς αἰωνίας.

Those eternal bowers
Man hath never trod,
Those unfading flowers
Round the Throne of God:
Who may hope to gain them
After weary fight?
Who at length attain them
Clad in robes of white?——

He, who gladly barters
All on earthly ground;
He who, like the Martyrs,
Says, ‘I WILL be crown’d:’
He, whose one oblation
Is a life of love;
Clinging to the nation
Of the Blest above.

Shame upon you, legions
Of the Heavenly King,
Denizens of regions
Past imagining!
What! with pipe and tabor
Fool away the light,
When He bids you labour,—
When He tells you,—‘Fight!’

While I do my duty,
Struggling through the tide,
Whisper Thou of beauty
On the other side!
Tell who will the story
Of our now distress:
Oh the future glory!
Oh the loveliness!