Dum nocte pulsa Lucifer

The golden star of morn
Is climbing in the sky;
The birth-day of Venantius
Awakes the Church to joy.

His native land in depths
Of Pagan darkness lay;
He o’er her guilty regions pour’d
The light of Heav’nly day.

Her in baptismal streams
Of grace he purified;
E’en those, who came to take his life,
With him as martyrs died.

With Angels now he shares
Those joys which never cease
Look down on us, O Spirit blest,
And send us gifts of peace.

Praise to the Father, Son,
And, Holy Ghost, to Thee!
Oh, grant us through thy Martyr’s prayer
A blest eternity.