PAEAN

Texts

From all Thy saints in warfare, for all Thy saints at rest,
To Thee, O blessèd Jesu, all praises be address'd:
Thou, Lord, didst win the battle that they might conquerors be;
Their crowns of living glory are lit with rays from Thee.
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Praise to the heavenly Wisdom
Who knows the hearts of all--
The saintly life's beginnings,
The traitor's secret fall;
Our own ascended Master,
Who heard His Church's cry,
Made known His guiding presence,
And ruled her from on high.
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Lord of the living harvest
That whitens o'er the plain,
Where angels soon shall gather
Their sheaves of golden grain;
Accept these hands to labor,
These hearts to trust and love,
And deign with them to hasten
Thy kingdom from above.
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