Latinised Hymns

Lift up your heads, ye gates of brass

Lift up your heads, ye gates of brass;
Ye bars of iron, yield!
And let the King of Glory pass:
The Cross is in the field.

That banner, brighter than the star
That leads the train of night,
Shines on the march, and guides from far
His servants to the fight.

A holy war those servants wage:
In that mysterious strife
The powers of heaven and hell engage,
For more than death or life.

Ye armies of the living God,
Sworn warriors of Christ's host,
Where hallowed footsteps never trod
Take your appointed post.

Though few and small and weak your bands,
Strong in your Captain's strength,
Go to the conquest of all lands:
All must be his at length.

The spoils at his victorious feet
You shall rejoice to lay,
And lay yourselves as trophies meet,
In his great judgement day.

Then fear not, faint not, halt not now;
In Jesus' name be strong!
To him shall all the nations bow,
And sing the triumph song:

Uplifted are the gates of brass,
The bars of iron yield;
Behold the King of Glory pass:
The Cross hath won the field!


Portae, cedatis, aeneae
claustrumque ferreum,
eunti Regi Gloriae
cum Cruce in proelium.

Vexillum stella clarius
quae nocti praeparat
eius viam militibus
ad bellum indicat.

Est bellum sacrum, mysticum:
in illo dimicant
de plure Bonum et Malum
quam utri pereant.

Nunc ite, exercitus Dei
Christique legio,
quo non prius pedes sacri,
iubente Domino.

Dux paucos debilesque vos
fortis fortes facit;
quot sunt domate populos:
is horum rex erit.

Victori praeda tum data
sit ad pedes ei
et vos, opima spolia,
sedenti iudici.

Vos ergo confortamini
in Iesu nomine,
cuius triumphum populi
augebunt undique.

Iam portae cedunt aeneae
claustrumque ferreum;
Rex bene gessit Gloriae
cum Cruce proelium.

MM 15–27.8.00