SING OF CHRIST, PROCLAIM HIS GLORY

Sing of Christ, proclaim his glory,
sing the resurrection song!
Death and sorrow, earth’s dark story,
to the former days belong.
All around the clouds are breaking,
soon the storms of time shall cease;
in God’s likeness, people, waking,
know the everlasting peace.

O what glory, far exceeding
all that eye has yet perceived!
Holiest hearts for ages pleading
never that full joy conceived.
God has promised, Christ prepares it,
there on high our welcome waits;
ev’ry humble spirit shares it,
Christ has passed th’eternal gates.

Life eternal! Heaven rejoices:
Jesus lives who once was dead:
shout with joy, O deathless voices!
Child of God, lift up your head!
Patriarchs from distant ages,
saints all longing for their heaven,
prophets, psalmists, seers and sages,
all await the glory giv’n.

Life eternal! O what wonders
crowd on faith, what joy unknown,
when, amid earth’s closing thunders,
saints shall stand before the throne!
O to enter that bright portal,
see that glowing firmament,
know, with you, O God immortal,
Jesus Christ whom you have sent!

– William Josiah Irons (1812-83)

 

O THOU, WHO THROUGH THIS HOLY WEEK (HYMN)

O thou, who through this holy week,
didst suffer for us all;
the sick to heal, the lost to seek,
to raise up them that fall:

We cannot understand the woe
thy love was pleased to bear;
O Lamb of God, we only know
that all our hopes are there.

Thy feet the path of suff’ring trod,
thy hand the vict’ry won:
what shall we render to our God
for all that he hath done?

To God, the blessed Three in One,
all praise and glory be:
crown, Lord, thy servants who have won
the victory through thee.

John Mason Neale

 

COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT (ADVENT HYMN)

Come, Lord, and tarry not;

Bring the long looked-for day;

O why these years of waiting here,

These ages of delay?

 

Come, for creation groans,

Impatient for your stay,

Worn out with these long years of ill,

These ages of delay.

 

Come, for love waxes cold,

Its steps are faint and slow;

Faith now is lost in unbelief,

Hope’s lamp burns dim and low.

 

Come, and make all things new,

Build up this ruined earth;

Restore our faded paradise,

Creation’s second birth.

 

– Horatius Bonar, 1846, public domain

 

THE MORN HAD SPREAD HER CRIMSON RAYS (EASTER HYMN)

The morn had spread her crimson rays,

When rang the skies with shouts of praise;

Earth joined the joyful hymn swell,

That brought despair to vanquished hell.

 

He comes victorious from the grave,

The Lord omnipotent to save,

And brings with him the light of day

The Saints who long imprisoned lay.

 

Vain is the cavern’s threefold ward –

The stone, the seal, the armed guard;

O death, no more thine arm we fear,

The Victor’s tomb is now thy bier.

 

Enough of death, enough of tears,

Enough of sorrows and of fears!

O hear yon white-robed Angel cry,

“Death’s Conqueror lives, no more to die.”

 

With Christ we died, with Christ we rose,

When at the font his name we chose;

O let not sin our robes defile,

And turn to grief the Paschal smile.

 

To God the Father let us sing,

To God the Son, our risen King,

And equally let us adore

The Spirit, God forevermore.

Amen.

 

O FOR THY SPIRIT (HYMN)

O for thy spirit, holy John, to chasten

Lips sin-polluted, fettered tongues to loosen;

So by thy children might thy deeds of wonder

Meetly be chanted.

 

Lo! a swift herald, from the skies descending,

Bears to thy father’s promise of thy greatness;

How he shall name thee, what thy future story,

Duly revealing.

 

Scarcely believing message so transcendent,

Him for season power of speech forsaketh,

Till, at thy wondrous birth, again returneth

Voice to the voiceless.

 

Thou, in thy mother’s womb all darkly cradled,

Knewest thy Monarch, biding in his chamber,

Whence the two parents, through their children’s merits,

Mysteries uttered.

 

Praise to the Father, to the Sole-begotten,

And to the Spirit, equal power possessing,

One God whose glory, through the lapse of ages,

Ever resoundeth.

Amen.

 

– From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964

 

O GLORY OF THE POLISH RACE (HYMN)

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

 

 

WHEN THOU DOST PRAY THY MIGHTY PRAYER (HYMN)

When thou dost pray thy mighty prayer,

Disorders flee, and plagues abate,

And bodies, wasting in disease,

Regain at once their healthful state.

 

When phthisis, fevers, ulcers dire,

Have brought men to their latest breath,

When they are mourned as victims doomed,

Thou tak’st them from the jaws of death.

 

Thou pray’st; and goods, which down the stream

Are hurried on at headlong pace,

Drown by the mighty hand of God,

Float upwards, and their source retrace.

 

Do thou, who canst such wonders work,

Now from thy throne in heaven deign

To listen to our suppliant prayers,

That we may answering help obtain.

 

O Trinity forever One,

O Unity forever Trine,

That we may gain eternal joys,

To Cantius’ prayer thine ear incline.

Amen.

 

From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964

 

THY BODY WITH LONG FASTINGS WORN (HYMN)

Thy body with long fastings worn;

Thy flesh with cruel scourgings torn;

‘Twas thine to live, O Blessed Saint,

A most unspotted penitent.

 

Oh, may we follow after thee,

In ways of holy purity!

And in the Spirit’s might control

Each evil passion of the soul!

 

Thou on the poor in winter’s snow

Oft thy own raiment didst bestow:

By hunger or by thirst oppressed,

They flew to thy parental breast.

 

O thou, who nothing didst deny

To those who sought thy charity,

Thy native land from harm defend,

And peace to all her borders send!

 

Praise to the Father, with the Son,

And Holy Spirit, Three in One;

Jesu, through thy dear servant’s prayer,

May we thy joys eternal share.

Amen.

 

From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964

 

TERESA’S SPIRIT ON THIS DAY (HYMN)

Teresa’s spirit on this day

In beauty took its upward way,

Pure as a white and shining dove,

To heaven’s holy house above.

 

She heard the Bridegroom’s joyful cry:

Come, Sister, come from Carmel high

The marriage of the Lamb to share;

Receive thy crown of glory there.

 

O Jesus, Bridegroom of the Blest,

By all the Virgins’ choir confessed,

To thee forevermore belong

Their worship and their marriage song.

Amen.

 

– From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964

 

 

O HERALD OF THE HEAVENLY KING (HYMN)

O herald of the heavenly King,

She left her father’s house to bring

Her message, Christ, to foreign lands,

Or shed her blood upon their sands.

 

But kindlier death, Teresa waits

To claim thee. Love, that compensates

The longing heart, will wound and smite

Thee down, yet all thy love requite.

 

O sacrifice of love divine,

Set all our hearts on fire, like thine;

And pray that we may be kept free

From flames of hell, who call on thee.

 

Praise to the Father, with the Son

And Paraclete, forever One:

To thee, O Holy Trinity,

Be praise for all eternity.

Amen.

 

– From: An Approved English Translation of the Breviarium Romanum, Burns & Oates, London, 1964