Alba

"Oh! glorious King, who art the world's true Light,
All powerful God, if pleasing in Thy sight
Avail my comrade nor disdain my pleading;
Him night from me has ta'en, Thy help he's needing,
For soon the morn will waken.

"Fair comrade, if thou'rt lost in slumber bright,
Slumber no more, shake off the dreams of night.
For in the east upon its way is speeding
That star, which in its train the day is leading,
Full soon the morn will waken.

"Fair comrade mine, singing to thee I cry:
'Slumber no more,' the bird through woods does fly,
Who by her morning song would hence impel us,
O'erta'en I fear to see thee by the jealous,
For soon the morn will waken.

"Fair comrade, haste thee to the casement high,
Day's harbingers do show them in the sky,
And these will tell thee I am true and zealous,
If not, thy loss 'twill be, for they foretell us,
That soon the morn will waken."