O glory of the Polish race,
O splendour of the priestly band,
Whose lore did thy Lyceum grace,
John, father of the fatherland.
The law of the supernal will
Thou teachest both in word and deed;
Knowledge is naught – we must fulfill
In works, not barren words, our creed!
On foot to Apostolic Rome
Thy pilgrim spirit joyful hied;
Oh, to our everlasting home
The path declare, our footsteps guide!
Again, in Sion’s holy street,
Anew thou wet’st with tearful flood
The pathway of the Saviour’s feet
Erst wet with His redeeming Blood.
O sweet and bitter wounds of Christ,
Deep in our hearts imprinted stay,
That the blest fruit the sacrificed
Redeemer gained, be ours for aye!
Then let the world obeisance due
Perform, O God, to thy high will;
And let our souls, by grace made new,
Sing to thee a new canticle!
From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964