Rorate

Rorate coe­li de­su­per!

Heavens

dis­till your bal­my show­ers;

For now is ris­en the bright Day­star

From the rose Ma­ry

flow­er of flow­ers:

The clear Sun

whom no cloud de­vours

Surmounting Phoe­bus in the east

Is com­en of His heav’n­ly tow­ers

Et no­bis pu­er na­tus est.

Sinners be glad

and pen­ance do

And thank your mak­er heart­ful­ly;

For He that ye might not come to

To you is com­en

fully hum­bly

Your soul­ès with His blood to buy

And loose you of the fiend’s ar­rest

And on­ly of His own mer­cy;

Pro no­bis pu­er na­tus est.

Celestial fowl­ès in the air

Sing with your not­ès up­on the height

In firth­ès and in for­ests fair

Be mirth­ful now at all your might;

For pass­èd is your dul­ly night;

Aurora has the cloud­ès pierced

The sun is ris­en with glad­some light

Et no­bis pu­er na­tus est.

Sing

Heav­en im­pe­ri­al

most of height

Regions of air make har­mo­ny

All fish in flood and fowl of flight

Be mirth­ful and make me­lo­dy;

All Gloria in ex­cel­sis cry

Heaven

earth

sea

man

bird and beast;

He that is crowned above the sky

Pro no­bis pu­er na­tus est.