Texts and Translations

Gently, Lord
(American Shape Note)
Gently, Lord, O gently lead us
Through this lonely vale of tears,
And, O Lord, in mercy give us
Thy rich grace in all our fears.

In the hour of pain and anguish,
In the hour when death draws near,
Suffer not our hearts to languish,
Suffer not our souls to fear.

When this mortal life is ended,
Bid us in thine arms to rest.
‘Till by angel-bands attended,
We awake among the blest.

Christe, qui lux es et dies
(Robert White, d. 1574)
Christ, who art the light and day,
You drive away the darkness of night,
You are called the Light of Light,
For you proclaim the blessed Light.

We beseech you, Holy Lord,
Protect us this night.
Let us take our rest in you;
Grant us a tranquil night.

Let our sleep be free from care;
Let not the enemy snatch us away,
Nor flesh conspire within him,
And make us guilty in your sight.

Though our eyes be filled with sleep,
Keep our hearts forever awake to you.
May the right hand protect 
Your willing servants.


Mother of God, Here I Stand
(John Tavener, 1944 – 2013)
Mother of God, here I stand now praying
Before this ikon of your radiant brightness,
Not praying to be saved from a battlefield;
Not giving thanks, nor seeking forgiveness for the sins of my soul,
Nor for all the souls
Numb, joyless and desolate on earth;
But for her alone, whom I wholly give you.


Salvator Mundi, Domine
(John Sheppard, 1515 – 1558)
Saviour of the world, Lord,
Who have saved us today,
In this night protect us,
And save at every time.

Be with us now propitious,
And spare thy suppliants,
Do thou wipe away our crimes,
Do thou enlighten our darkness.

Lest sleep oppress the mind,
Nor lest the enemy steal upon us,
Nor lest any flesh, we beg,
Be defiled with stains.

Thee, reformer of senses,
We beseech with the vows of our hearts,
That pure, with chaste minds,
We may rise from our beds.

May there be praise, glory everlasting,
To God the Father, and to the Son,
Together with the Holy Paraclete,
To the endless ages. Amen.


Magnificat
(Arvo Pärt, b. 1935)
My soul doth magnify the Lord.
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded: the lowliness of his handmaiden:
For behold, from henceforth: 
All generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath magnified me:
And holy is his Name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him:
Throughout all generations.
He hath showed strenth with his arm:
He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat:
And hath exalted the humble and meek.
He hath filled the hungry with good things:
And the rich he hath sent empty away.
He remembering his mercy hath helped his servant Israel:
As he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

Kyrie Leroy
(John Taverner, 1490 – 1545)
Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, have mercy on us.
Lord, have mercy on us.

Te Lucis Anteterminum
(Plainsong)
Before the end of the day,
We ask you, Creator of all,
In your wonted kindness,
To go before us as our guard.

May our hearts dream of you,
May we perceive you even in sleep,
And always sing your glory
At the coming of the light.

Grant us a healthy life,
Restore our fervour;
The foul darkness of night
May your brightness illumine.

Grant this, Father almighty,
Through Jesus Christ the Lord,
Who with you forever
Reigns with the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Boulding Chorale
(Kevin Oldham, 1960 – 1993)
Small flowers there are beside the stoniest way,
And on the seeming endless journeying
Some breaths of air are sweet, and some birds sing
And some new goal is reached in every day;
Yet for the unknown end we wait and pray,
When the last knot in this world’s tangled string is straightened out,
And every evil thing redeemed in heavn’s undisputed sway.

Agnus Dei (Missa Gloria Tibi Trinitas)
(John Taverner, 1490 – 1545)
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

Immortal Bach
(arr. Knut Nystedt, 1915 – 2014)
Come, sweet death, 
come, blessed rest!
Come lead me to peace.

Stars
(Ēriks Ešenvalds, b. 1977)
Alone in the night on a dark hill,
With pines around me spicy and still,
And heaven full of stars over my head
White and topaz and misty red;
Myriads with beating hearts of fire
Oh, the aeons cannot vex or tire.
– Sara Teasdale