Palms of glory, raiment bright
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Palms of glory, raiment bright, Crowns that never fade away, Gird and deck the sons of 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 for harps their crowns 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: 0, when we like them must die, May our souls translated thus Triumph, reign, and shine on high. |
Vestis et palmae nitent neque marcent apices, luminosi quos habent victor princeps antistes. Ad pedes Agni suam palmam victor proicit unicaeque debitam gloriam Cruci canit. Positis apicibus tractant principes lyras: "Dominorum Dominus, Regum" clamant "Rex regas!" Antistes aras prope factam esse niveam Salvatoris sanguine stolam indicat suam. Nos, ut haud eis minus moriemur, mortui supra triumphantibus splendeamus additi. |