As at morn's golden ray
Flee the shadows of night,
Thou true Light of the day,
Shades of ill chase away,
Give Thy people Thy light.
To Thine all-seeing eye
Every secret is known,
And recorded on high
As each hour passes by
Are the deeds we have done. Amen.
Let our thoughts then be clean
And our actions be love;
Let no strife intervene,
All be pure and serene
As the ray from above.
To the Father be praise,
Equal praise to the Son
And the Spirit always,
While the infinite days
Of eternity run.
Aurelius Clemens Prudentius (348 - c. 413) Spain
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