A HYMN FOR MICHAELMAS
By Joseph the Hymnographer (died 886),
translated by J.M. Neale (died 1866)
Stars of the morning, so gloriously bright,
Filled with celestial resplendence and light;
These that, where night never followeth day,
Raise the Trisagion ever and aye:
Filled with celestial resplendence and light;
These that, where night never followeth day,
Raise the Trisagion ever and aye:
These are Thy counsellors: these dost Thou own,
God of Sabaoth! the nearest Thy throne;
These are Thy ministers; these dost Thou send,
Help of the helpless ones! man to defend.
God of Sabaoth! the nearest Thy throne;
These are Thy ministers; these dost Thou send,
Help of the helpless ones! man to defend.
These keep the guard, amidst Salem’s dear bowers:
Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, and Powers:
Where with the Living Ones, mystical Four,
Cherubim, Seraphim, bow and adore.
Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, and Powers:
Where with the Living Ones, mystical Four,
Cherubim, Seraphim, bow and adore.
“Who like the Lord?”—thunders Michael, the Chief:
Raphael, “the Cure of God,” comforteth grief:
And, as at Nazareth, prophet of peace,
Gabriel, “the Light of God,” bringeth release.
Raphael, “the Cure of God,” comforteth grief:
And, as at Nazareth, prophet of peace,
Gabriel, “the Light of God,” bringeth release.
Then, when the earth was first poised in mid-space,—
Then, when the planets first sped on their race,—
Then, when were ended the six days’ employ,—
Then all the sons of God shouted for joy.
Then, when the planets first sped on their race,—
Then, when were ended the six days’ employ,—
Then all the sons of God shouted for joy.
Still let them succour us; still let them fight,
Lord of angelic hosts, battling for right!
Till, where their anthems they ceaselessly pour,
We with the Angels may bow and adore!
Lord of angelic hosts, battling for right!
Till, where their anthems they ceaselessly pour,
We with the Angels may bow and adore!
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