Now that the sun is gleaming bright,
Implore we, bending low,
That He, the uncreated Light
May guide us as we go.

No sinful word, nor deed of wrong
Nor thoughts that idly rove,
But simple truth be on our tongue,
And in our hearts be love.

And while the hours in order flow,
O Christ, securely fence
Our gates, beleaguered by the foe,
The gate of every sense.

And grant that to Thine honor, Lord,
Our daily toil may tend;
That we begin it at Thy Word,
And in Thy favor end.