1 Sing the song, the triumph song,
The victor’s crown is on;
Shout to Christ and march along,
The battle’s fought and won;
Raise it till it shake the sky!
For the saints, the saints on high,
Their day of strife and labor done.
2 Down the deep and darksome vale
They passed from out of sight;
Now beyond its river pale
They mount to deathless light,
To the land of verdant bowers,
And of sweet, unfading flowers,
For ever fair, for ever bright.
3 On! upon the holy height
An altar-throne is spread;
See the Lamb, in radiant light,
With thorn-encircled head.
See, the saints from valley rise,
Find with glad, expectant eyes,
Their Savior, Jesus Christ the Lord.
4 Patriarchs and prophets stand
In joy on either side,
Now possess the Promised Land
Bestowed by Him who died.
Now their types are all complete,
Priest and king and prophet meet,
In glad accord, and satisfied.
5 Mary now in joyous cheer,
The maiden, mother, queen;
John the Baptist, John the Seer,
This triumph once foreseen;
Peter with the double keys,
Magdalen upon her knees,
Apostles twelve in golden sheen.
6 Innocents by Herod slain,
The clouds about the sun;
Crimson-flushed, baptized in pain,
Ere life had well begun,
Now with angels, hand in hand,
Roam about the happy land
Without a fear, with trouble none.
7 Catharine, from wheel and blade,
Ascends to perfect day;
Cicely, in snow arrayed,
Comes singing on her way.
Lucy, with her lamp alight,
Virgin cohort, fair and bright,
With roses and with lilies gay.
8 Martyr host, confessors true,
And many a faithful priest;
Humble souls, earth never knew,
The first who were the least.
Sing the saints, their sorrows o’er,
Weeping, wanting now no more,
They full enjoy the marriage feast.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #16001
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