Hymn Before Sleep (Hymnus Ante Somnum)

Newly Translated Into English Verse By R. Martin Pope is below this original.

Hymnus Ante Somnum


        Ades Pater supreme,
    quem nemo vidit unquam,
    Patrisque sermo Christe,
    et Spiritus benigne.

        O Trinitatis huius
    vis una, lumen unum,
    Deus ex Deo perennis,
    Deus ex utroque missus.

        Fluxit labor diei,
    redit et quietis hora,
    blandus sopor vicissim
    fessos relaxat artus.

        Mens aestuans procellis
    curisque sauciata
    totis bibit medullis
    obliviale poclum.

        Serpit per omne corpus
    Lethaea vis, nec ullum
    miseris doloris aegri
    patitur manere sensum.

        Lex haec data est caducis
    Deo iubente membris,
    ut temperet laborem
    medicabilis voluptas.

        Sed dum pererrat omnes
    quies amica venas,
    pectusque feriatum
    placat rigante somno:

        Liber vagat per auras
    rapido vigore sensus,
    variasque per figuras,
    quae sunt operta, cernit.

        Quia mens soluta curis,
    cui est origo caelum,
    purusque fons ab aethra
    iners iacere nescit.

        Imitata multiformes
    facies sibi ipsa fingit,
    per quas repente currens
    tenui fruatur actu.

        Sed sensa somniantum
    dispar fatigat horror,
    nunc splendor intererrat
    qui dat futura nosse.

        Plerumque dissipatis
    mendax imago veris
    animos pavore maestos
    ambage fallit atra.

        Quem rara culpa morum
    non polluit frequenter,
    nunc lux serena vibrans
    res edocet latentes.

        At qui coinquinatum
    vitiis cor inpiavit,
    lusus pavore multo
    species videt tremendas.

        Hoc patriarcha noster
    sub carceris catena
    geminis simul ministris
    interpres adprobavit.

        Quorum reversus unus
    dat poculum tyranno,
    ast alterum rapaces
    fixum vorant volucres.

        Ipsum deinde regem
    perplexa somniantem
    monuit famem futuram
    clausis cavere acervis.

        Mox praesul ac tetrarches
    regnum per omne iussus
    sociam tenere virgam
    dominae resedit aulae.

        O quam profunda iustis
    arcana per soporem
    aperit tuenda Christus,
    quam clara! quam tacenda!

        Evangelista summi
    fidissimus magistri
    signata quae latebant
    nebulis videt remotis:

        ipsum tonantis agnum
    de caede purpurantem,
    qui conscium futuri
    librum resignat unus.

        Huius manum potentem
    gladius perarmat anceps
    et fulgurans utrimque
    duplicem minatur ictum.

        Quaesitor ille solus
    animaeque corporisque
    ensisque bis timendus
    prima ac secunda mors est.

        idem tamen benignus
    ultor retundit iram
    paucosque non piorum
    patitur perire in aevum.

        Huic inclitus perenne
    tribuit Pater tribunal,
    hunc obtinere iussit
    nomen supra omne nomen.

        Hic praepotens cruenti
    extinctor antichristi,
    qui de furente monstro
    pulchrum refert tropaeum.

        Quam bestiam capacem
    populosque devorantem,
    quam sanguinis charybdem
    Ioannis execratur.

        Haec nempe, quae sacratum
    praeferre nomen ausa est,
    imam petit gehennam
    Christo perempta vero.

        Tali sopore iustus
    mentem relaxat heros,
    ut spiritu sagaci
    caelum peragret omne.

        Nos nil meremur horum,
    quos creber inplet error,
    concreta quos malarum
    vitiat cupido rerum.

        Sat est quiete dulci
    fessum fovere corpus:
    sat, si nihil sinistrum
    vanae minentur umbrae.

        Cultor Dei memento
    te fontis et lavacri
    rorem subisse sanctum,
    te chrismate innotatum.

        Fac, cum vocante somno
    castum petis cubile,
    frontem locumque cordis
    crucis figura signet.

        Crux pellit omne crimen,
    fugiunt crucem tenebrae:
    tali dicata signo
    mens fluctuare nescit.

        Procul, o procul vagantum
    portenta somniorum,
    procul esto pervicaci
    praestigiator astu!

        O tortuose serpens,
    qui mille per Maeandros
    fraudesque flexuosas
    agitas quieta corda,

        Discede, Christus hic est,
    hic Christus est, liquesce:
    signum quod ipse nosti
    damnat tuam catervam.

        Corpus licet fatiscens
    iaceat recline paullum,
    Christum tamen sub ipso
    meditabimur sopore.




Hymn Before Sleep


    Draw near, Almighty Father,
        Ne'er seen by mortal eye;
    Come, O Thou Word eternal,
        O Spirit blest, be nigh.

    One light of threefold Godhead,
        One power that all transcends;
    God is of God begotten,
        And God from both descends.

    The hour of rest approaches,
        The toils of day are past,
    And o'er our tired bodies
        Sleep's gentle charm is cast.

    The mind, by cares tormented
        Amid life's storm and stress,
    Drinks deep the wondrous potion
        That brings forgetfulness.

    O'er weary, toil-worn mortals
        The spells of Lethe steal;
    Sad hearts lose all their sorrow,
        Nor pain nor anguish feel.

    For to His frail creation
        God gave this law to keep,
    That labour should be lightened
        By soft and healing sleep.

    But while sweet languor wanders
        Through all the pulsing veins,
    And, wrapt in dewy slumber,
        The heart at rest remains,

    The soul, in wakeful vigour,
        Aloft in freedom flies,
    And sees in many a semblance
        The hidden mysteries.

    For, freed from care, the spirit
        That came from out the sky,
    Born of the stainless aether,
        Can never idle lie.

    A thousand changing phantoms
        She fashions through the night,
    And 'midst a world of fancy
        Pursues her rapid flight.

    But divers are the visions
        That night to dreamers shows;
    Rare gleams of straying splendour
        The future may disclose;

    More oft the truth is darkened,
        And lying fantasy
    Deceives the affrighted sleeper
        With cunning treachery.

    To him whose life is holy
        The things that are concealed
    Lie open to his spirit
        In radiant light revealed;

    But he whose heart is blackened,
        With many a sin imbued,
    Sees phantoms grim and ghastly
        That beckon and delude.

    So in the Egyptian dungeon
        The patriarch of old
    Unto the king's two servants
        Their fateful visions told:

    And one is brought from prison
        The monarch's wine to pour,
    One, on the gibbet hanging,
        Foul birds of prey devour,

    He warned the king, distracted
        By riddles of the night,
    To hoard the plenteous harvests
        Against the years of blight.

    Soon, lord of half a kingdom,
        A mighty potentate,
    He shares the royal sceptre
        And dwells in princely state.

    But ah! how deep the secrets
        The holy sleeper sees
    To whom Christ shows His highest,
        Most sacred mysteries.

    For God's most faithful servant
        The clouds were rolled away,
    And John beheld the wonders
        That sealed from mortals lay.

    The Lamb of God, encrimsoned
        With sacrificial stains,
    Alone the Book can open
        That destiny contains.

    By His strong hand is wielded
        A keen, two-edgèd brand
    That, flashing like the lightning,
        Smites swift on either hand.

    Before His bar of judgment
        Both soul and body lie;
    He whom that dread sword smiteth
        The second death shall die.

    Yet mercy tempers justice,
        And few the Avenger sends
    (Whose guilt is past all pardon)
        To death that never ends.

    To Him the Father yieldeth
        The judgment-seat of Heaven;
    To Him a Name excelling
        All other names is given.

    For by His strength transcendent
        Shall Antichrist be slain,
    And from that raging monster
        Fair trophies shall He gain:

    That all-devouring Dragon,
        With blood of martyrs red,
    On whose abhorrèd power
        John's solemn curse is laid.

    And thus the proud usurper
        Of His high name is cast
    By Him, the true Christ, vanquished
        To deepest hell at last.

    Upon the saint heroic
        Such wondrous slumber falls
    That, in the spirit roaming,
        He treads heaven's highest halls.

    We may not, in our weakness,
        To dreams like these aspire,
    Whose souls are steeped in error
        And evil things desire.

    Enough, if weary bodies
        In peaceful sleep may rest;
    Enough, if no dark powers
        Our slumbering souls molest.

    Christian! the font remember,
        The sacramental vow,
    The holy water sprinkled,
        The oil that marked thy brow!

    When at sleep's call thou seekest
        To rest in slumber chaste,
    Let first the sacred emblem
        On breast and brow be traced.

    The Cross dispels all darkness,
        All sin before it flies,
    And by that sign protected
        The mind all fear defies.

    Avaunt! ye fleeting phantoms
        That mock our midnight hours;
    Avaunt! thou great Deceiver
        With all thy guileful powers.

    Thou Serpent, old and crafty,
        Who by a thousand arts
    And manifold temptations
        Dost vex our sleeping hearts,

    Vanish! for Christ is with us;
        Away! 'tis Christ the Lord:
    The sign thou must acknowledge
        Condemns thy hellish horde.

    And, though the weary body
        Relaxed in sleep may be,
    Our hearts, Lord, e'en in slumber,
        Shall meditate on Thee.