Sign In Sign-Up

Welcome!

Close

Would you like to make this site your homepage? It's fast and easy...

Yes, Please make this my home page!

No Thanks

  Don't show this to me again.

Close

THE ABYSS (RealAudio)
Sunday of the Prodigal Son
St. Joseph of the Stadium 
Tr. J.M. Neale

The abyss of many a former sin
Encloses me, and bars me in:
Like billows my transgressions roll:
Be Thou the Pilot of my soul;
And to Salvation's harbour bring,
Thou Saviour and Thou glorious King!

My Father's heritage abused,
Wasted by lust, by sin misused;
To shame and want and misery brought,
The slave to many a fruitless thought,
I cry to Thee, Who lovest men,
O pity and receive again!

In hunger now,no more possessed
Of that my portion bright and blest,
The exile and the alien see
Who yet would fain return to Thee.
And save me, LORD, who seek to raise
To Thy dear love the hymn of praise!

With that blest thief my prayer I make,
Remember for Thy mercy's sake!
With that poor publican I cry,
Be merciful, O GOD Most High! 
With that lost Prodigal I fain
Back to my home would turn again!

Mourn, mourn, my soul, with earnest care,
And raise to CHRIST the contrite prayer:
O Thou, Who freely wast made poor,
My sorrows and my sins to cure,
Me, poor of all good works, embrace,
Enriching with Thy boundless grace!


WHENCE SHALL MY TEARS BEGIN?
from The Great Canon 
St. Andrew of Crete 
Tr. J.M. Neale

Whence shall my tears begin?
What first-fruits shall I bear
Of earnest sorrow for my sin?
Or how my woes declare?
O Thou! the Merciful and Gracious One
Forgive the foul transgressions I have done.

With Adam I have vied,
Yea, passed him, in my fall;
And I am naked now, by pride
And lust made bare of all;
Of Thee, O GOD, and that Celestial Band,
And all the glory of the Promised Land.

No earthly Eve beguiled
My body into sin:
A spiritual temptress smiled,
Concupiscence within:
Unbridled Passion grasped the unhallowed sweet:
Most bitter--ever bitter--was the meat.

If Adam's righteous doom,
Because he dared transgress
Thy one decree, lost Eden's bloom
And Eden's loveliness:
What recompence, O LORD, must I expect,
Who all my life Thy quickening laws neglect?

My guilt for vengeance cries;
But yet Thou pardonest all,
And whom Thou lov'st Thou dost chastise,
And mourn'st for them that fall:
Thou, as a Father, mark'st our tears and pain,
And welcomest the prodigal again.

I lie before Thy door,
O turn me not away!
Nor in mine old age give me o'er
To Satan for a prey!
But ere the end of life and term of grace,
Thou Merciful! my many sins efface!

Thou Spotless Lamb divine,
Who takest sins away,
Remove, remove, the load that mine
Upon my conscience lay:
And, of Thy tender mercy, grant Thou me
To find remission of iniquity


AWAKE, O CHURCH  AND TRIUMPH
Orthodoxy Sunday
St. Theodore of Stadium 
Tr. J.M. Neale

Awake, O Church, and triumph
Exult, each realm and land!
And open let the houses,
The ascetic houses stand!
And let the holy virgins
With joy and song take in
Their relics and their Icons,
Who died this day to win!

Assemble ye together
So joyous and so bold,
The ascetic troops, and pen them
Once more within the fold!
If strength again he gather, 
Again the foe shall fall:
If counsel he shall counsel,
Our GOD shall scatter all.

The LORD, the LORD hath triumphed:
Let all the world rejoice!
Hushed is the turmoil, silent
His servants' tearful voice:
And the One Faith, the True Faith,
Goes forth from East to West,
Enfolding, in its beauty,
The earth as with a vest.

They rise, the sleepless watchmen
Upon the Church's wall;
With yearning supplication
On GOD the LORD they call:
And He, though long time silent,
Bowed down a gracious ear,
His people's earnest crying
And long complaint to hear.

Thou Who has fixed unshaken
Thy Church's mighty frame,
So that hell-gates shall never
Prevail against the same;--
Bestow upon Thy people
Thy peace, that we may bring
One voice, one hymn, one spirit,
To glorify our King!


Christian Dost Thou See Them?
Sunday of the Holy Cross
St. Ephraim the Syrian 
Tr. J.M. Neale

Christian, dost thou see them on the holy ground,
How the powers of darkness rage thy steps around?
Christian, up and smite them, counting gain but loss,
In the strength that cometh by the holy cross.

Christian, dost thou feel them, how they work within,
Striving, tempting, luring, goading into sin?
Christian, never tremble; never be downcast;
Gird thee for the battle, watch and pray and fast.

Christian, dost thou hear them, how they speak thee fair?
"Always fast and vigil? Always watch and prayer?"
Christian, answer boldly: "While I breathe I pray!"
Peace shall follow battle, night shall end in day.

"Well I know thy trouble, O my servant true;
Thou art very weary, I was weary, too;
But that toil shall make thee some day all Mine own,
At the end of sorrow shall be near my throne."


BEHOLD THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH
Holy Week "Bridegroom Matins", 8th C. Greek 
Tr. Gerard Moultrie
Tune: "Southwell" 

Behold the Bridegroom cometh in
The middle of the night,
And blest is he whose loins are girt,
Whose lamp is burning bright;
But woe to that dull servant, whom
The Master shall surprise
With lamp untrimmed, unburning and
With slumber in his eyes.

Do thou, my soul, beware, beware,
Lest thou in sleep sink down,
Lest thou be given o'er to death,
And lose the golden crown;
But see that thou be sober, with
A watchful eye, and thus
Cry-'Holy, holy, holy God,
Have mercy upon us.'

That day, the day of fear, shall come;
My soul, slack not thy toil,
But light thy lamp, and feed it well,
And make it bright with oil;
Who knowest not how soon may sound
The cry at eventide,
'Behold the Bridegroom comes! Arise!
Go forth to meet the bride.'

Beware, my soul; beware, beware,
Lest thou in slumber lie,
And like, the five, remain without,
And knock, and vainly cry;
But watch, and bear thy lamp undimmed,
And Christ shall gird thee on
His own bright wedding robe of light—
The glory of the Son.


LET ALL MORTAL FLESH KEEP SILENT
Liturgy of St. James—Holy Saturday 
Tr. Gerard Moultrie 
Tune: "Picardy" 

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
For with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
Our full homage to demand.

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.

Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.

At His feet the six winged seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Alleluia, Lord Most High!


THE DAY OF RESURRECTION
St. John of Damascus 
Tr. J.M. Neale 
Tune: "Lancashire"

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 heavens be joyful! Let earth the song begin!
Let the round world keep triumph, and all that is therein!
Let all things seen and unseen their notes in gladness blend,
For Christ the Lord hath risen, our joy that hath no end.

Other Roodscreen projects:
Even Unto Bethlehem: Hymns for Nativity
Roodscreen@MP3.com