O may we tread the sacred road
That Saints and holy Martyrs trod;
Wage to the end the glorious strife,
And win, like them, a crown of life. Amen.
219 Clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands.
PALMS of glory, raiment bright,
Crowns that never fade away,
Gird and deck the Saints in light,
Priests, and kings, and conquerors they.
Yet the conquerors bring their palms
To the LAMB amidst the throne,
And proclaim in joyful psalms
Victory through His Cross alone.
Kings their crowns for harps resign,
Crying, as they strike the chords,
"Take the Kingdom, it is Thine,
King of kings, and Lord of lords.”
Round the altar priests confess,
If their robes are white as snow,
"Twas the Saviour's righteousness,
And His Blood, that made them so.
They were mortal too like us;
O when we like them must die,
May our souls translated thus
Triumph, reign, and shine on high. Amen.
220 Compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses.
NOR all the Saints who from their labours rest, Who Thee by faith before the world confess'd, Thy Name, O JESU, be for ever bless'd. Alleluia !
Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress, and their Might;
Thou, LORD, their Captain in the well-fought
Thou in the darkness still their one true Light.
O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
Fight as the Saints who nobly fought of old,
And win, with them, the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia!
O blest communion! fellowship divine!
We fight, as they did, 'neath the holy sign;
And all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia !
And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph-song,
And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia !
The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm of Paradise the blest.
But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The Saints triumphant rise in bright array:
The King of glory passes on His way.
That they may rest from their labours.
HE Saints of GOD! their conflict past,
And life's long battle won at last,
No more they need the shield or sword;
They cast them down before their LORD:
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
At JESUS' feet how safe your rest!
The Saints of GOD! their wanderings done,
No more their weary course they run,
No more they faint, no more they fall,
No foes oppress, no fears appal :
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
In that dear home how sweet your rest!
The Saints of GOD! life's voyage o'er,
Safe landed on that blissful shore,
No stormy tempests now they dread,
No roaring billows lift their head :
O happy Saints! for ever blest,
In that calm haven of your rest!
The Saints of GOD their vigil keep
While yet their mortal bodies sleep,
Till from the dust they too shall rise
And soar triumphant to the skies:
O happy Saints! rejoice and sing;
He quickly comes, your LORD and King.
O GOD of Saints, to Thee we cry;
O SAVIOUR, plead for us on high ;
O HOLY GHOST, our Guide and Friend,
Grant us Thy grace till life shall end;
That with all Saints our rest may be
In that bright Paradise with Thee. Amen.
The following Hymns are also suitable for Saints' Days: 413 Soldiers, who are CHRIST'S below.
414 O happy band of pilgrims.
222 Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.
Quem terra, pontus, æthera.
HE GOD, Whom earth, and sea, and sky
Adore, and laud, and magnify,
Who governs all the threefold frame,
To birth as Child of Mary came.
Beneath th' o'ershadowing of grace,
A maiden lent a dwelling-place
To that dread LORD, Whom night and day
The sun and moon and all obey.
O blessed Mother, blessèd Maid,
Thou art the ark wherein was laid
The high Artificer Whose hand
The round world in its hollow spann'd.
Bless'd in the word that Gabriel brought,
The HOLY GHOST within her wrought
To fashion for a human birth
The long Desired of all the earth.
O glorious above woman-kind,
More high than any star hath shined,
Thy Maker, Who His work foreknew,
His nurture from thy bosom drew.
All that was lost by woful Eve
Thy beauteous Offspring did retrieve ;
That mourners might regain the height,
Heav'n made of thee its window bright.
Thou wast the great King's entrance door,
Light's gate, through which the sunbeams pour ;
Ye ransom'd nations, hail with mirth
Life through the Virgin brought to earth.
O LORD, the Virgin-born, to Thee
Eternal praise and glory be,
Whom with the FATHER we adore
And HOLY GHOST for evermore. Amen.
Mary, the mother of Jesus.
HALL we not love thee, Mother dear,
Whom JESUS loves so well,
And to His glory, year by year,
Thy joy and honour tell?
Bound with the curse of sin and shame
We helpless sinners lay,
Until in tender love He came
To bear the curse away.
And thee He chose from whom to take
True flesh His Flesh to be,
In it to suffer for our sake,
By it to make us free.
Thy Babe He lay upon thy breast,
To thee He turn'd for food;
Thy gentle nursing soothed to rest
Th' Incarnate Son of GOD.
O wondrous depth of grace divine
That He should bend so low !
And, Mary, oh, what joy 'twas thine
In His dear love to know;
Joy to be Mother of the LORD—
And thine the truer bliss,
In every thought, and deed, and word
To be for ever His.
And as He loves thee, Mother dear,
We too will love thee well,
And to His glory, year by year,
Thy joy and honour tell.
JESU, the Virgin's Holy Son,
We praise Thee and adore,
Who art with GOD the FATHER One
And SPIRIT evermore.
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