How filled with sweetness are those whose thoughts dwell on Thee; how life-giving Thy holy Word. To speak with Thee is more soothing than anointing with oil; sweeter than the honeycomb. To pray to Thee lifts the spirit, refreshes the soul. Where Thou art not, there is only emptiness; hearts are smitten with sadness; nature, and life itself, become sorrowful; where Thou art, the soul is filled with abundance, and its song resounds like a torrent of life: Alleluia!
Ikos 4
When the sun is setting, when quietness falls like the peace of eternal sleep, and the silence of the spent day reigns, then in the splendour of its declining rays, filtering through the clouds, I see Thy dwelling-place: fiery and purple, gold and blue, they speak prophet-like of the ineffable beauty of Thy presence, and call to us in their majesty. We turn to the Father.
Glory to Thee at the hushed hour of nightfall Glory to Thee, covering the earth with peace Glory to Thee for the last ray of the sun as it sets Glory to Thee for sleep's repose that restores us Glory to Thee for Thy goodness even in the time of darkness When all the world is hidden from our eyes Glory to Thee for the prayers offered by a trembling soul Glory to Thee for the pledge of our reawakening On that glorious last day, that day which has no evening Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age