From Where The Rising Sun Goes Forth
Hymn on the Purification of Mary
A Solis Ortus
Cardine (In hypapanti, sive in purificatione s. Mariae, et omnibus eius
Translated by William J. Copeland
Music: William J. Copeland
Source: William J. Copeland, ed., Hymns for the Week, and Hymns for the Seasons. Translated from the Latin. (London: W. J. Cleaver and John Henry Parker, 1848), pp. 166-169.
where the rising sun goes forth,
To where he spans the utmost earth,
Proclaim we Christ our King, this morn
Of Mary Virgin-Mother born.
All climes unite in common voice,
Judea, Rome, and Greece rejoice,
Thrace, Egypt, Persia, Scythia now,
To One sole King's dominion bow.
All, all, confess your Lord and King;
Redeem'd and lost, His praises sing;
Health, sickness, life and death, adore,
All live in Him, they die no more.
His beauteous portal, full of grace, ,
Is hallow'd for the King to pass,
The King doth pass, the folded door
Abideth folded as before.
Son of the Father's might Divine,
Proceeding from His Virgin shrine,
Maker, Redeemer, Bridegroom, He
The Giant of His Church shall be.
Of Mother-maid the Light and Joy,
Of all believers Hope most high,
He the dark cup of death shall drain,
Ere He unloose our guilty chain.
Fair Stone, cut out from mountain-height,
Filling the world with grace and light,
Whom by no hand of mortal hewn
The ancient sages had foreshewn.
'Tis done, what herald Angel said,
He the True Word, True Flesh is made,
A Virgin Birth of Virgin womb
Virgin of Virgins Christ is come.
The skies have shed the Dew from Heaven,
Th' outpouring clouds the Just One given,
Earth's open lap receives the Birth,
And brings the Lord the Saviour forth.
Oh 'twas a wondrous travail there
When Him the Christ the Virgin bare,
So bare the Birth, the Offspring pure,
As Ever-Virgin to endure.
Let every soul arise and sing,
That He hath come, Redemption's King,
Lord of all lands, in Flesh array'd,
To save the souls Himself hath made.
Creator He of all the race,
For whom creation hath no place,
Hath found, chaste Mother, where to dwell,
Hath shrin'd Him in thy sacred cell.
Whom Sire most High, when time was not,
God Very God of God begot,
The bosom chaste of Mother mild
In time doth bear a new-born child.
He all our sins shall take away,
He holiest gifts to earth convey,
The empire swell of joy and light,
The powers of darkness quench in night.
Philip Schaff included this hymn in his Christ in Song (1895), omitting verses 11 and 14, and with the addition of interesting notes. See: From Where The Rising Sun Goes Forth.
In Julian's Dictionary of Hymnology, it is written that this is a translation of an altered version of A Solis Ortus Cardine, a Latin hymn concerning the Purification of Mary, the feast day of which is February 2.
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