 | Sacra Poesis |  |
88
THE ASCENSION.
(Chorus of Angels.)
Hail to thee, Conqueror! hail to thee, King!
In the clouds of thy glory all triumphing;
He has trampled on Death, he has conquer'd the grave,
The Holy, thrice Holy One, mighty to save!
In the clouds of thy glory all triumphing;
He has trampled on Death, he has conquer'd the grave,
The Holy, thrice Holy One, mighty to save!
(Chorus of Saints.)
Around him, ye angels, his ministers, throng,
Cherubim, Seraphim, burst into song!
Let joyful Infinity echo the cry,
Welcome, thrice Holy One, back to the sky!
Cherubim, Seraphim, burst into song!
Let joyful Infinity echo the cry,
Welcome, thrice Holy One, back to the sky!
(Both.)
All hail to the Saviour! his brow has been bound
With thorns, be it now with omnipotence crown'd;
Let the robe of his glory encircle the Lamb;
Let the universe worship the mighty I AM.
With thorns, be it now with omnipotence crown'd;
89
Let the universe worship the mighty I AM.
(Saints.)
Gentle and merciful, Jesus was led
As a Lamb to the slaughter,—the Sacrifice bled.
As a Lamb to the slaughter,—the Sacrifice bled.
(Angels.)
Mighty and glorious, welcome we on
To the love of the Father, the Victor, the Son!
To the love of the Father, the Victor, the Son!
(Saints.)
Patiently bore he the pitiless thong,
Meekly he smil'd on the murderous throng;
He was bruis'd, and he shrunk not, but kissed the rod,
He bore our sorrows—the merciful God.
Meekly he smil'd on the murderous throng;
He was bruis'd, and he shrunk not, but kissed the rod,
He bore our sorrows—the merciful God.
(Both.)
Then glory, full glory, to Jesus be given;
Ye worlds, sound his praises—re-echo them, Heaven!
O shout with the shawm, and the trump's royal voice,
The hymn of thanksgiving: rejoice ye, rejoice!
Ye worlds, sound his praises—re-echo them, Heaven!
90
The hymn of thanksgiving: rejoice ye, rejoice!
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