1 Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle;
sing the ending of the fray.
Now above the cross, the trophy,
sound the loud triumphant lay:
tell how Christ, the world's Redeemer,
as a victim won the day.
2 Tell how, when at length the fullness
of th'appointed time was come,
He, the Word, was born of woman,
left for us His Father's home,
blazed the path of true obedience,
shone as light amidst the gloom.
3 Thus, with thirty years accomplished,
He went forth from Nazareth,
destined, dedicated, willing,
did His work, and met His death;
like a lamb He humbly yielded
on the cross His dying breath.
4 Faithful cross, true sign of triumph,
be for all the noblest tree;
none in foliage, none in blossom,
none in fruit your equal be;
symbol of the world's redemption,
for the weight that hung on thee!
5 Unto God be praise and glory:
to the Father and the Son,
to th'eternal Spirit honor
now and evermore be done;
praise and glory in the highest,
while the timeless ages run.
Source: Hymns to the Living God #165
|First Line:||Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle|
|Title:||Sing, My Tongue, the Glorious Battle|
|Latin Title:||Pange lingua|
|Author:||Venantius Honorius Clementianus Fortunatus|
|Translator:||J. M. Neale|