Link to Music

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,[1]  With completed victory rife: And above the Cross's trophy  Tell the triumph of the strife: How the world's Redeemer conquer'd  By surrendering of His Life.

God his Maker, sorely grieving  That the first-made Adam fell, When he ate the fruit of sorrow,  Whose reward was death and hell, Noted then this Wood, the ruin  Of the ancient wood to quell.

For the work of our Salvation  Needs would have his order so, And the multiform deceiver's  Art by art would overthrow, And from thence would bring the med'cine  Whence the insult of the foe.

Wherefore, when the sacred fulness  Of th' appointed time was come, This world's Maker left His Father,  Sent the Heavenly Mansion from, And proceeded, God Incarnate,  Of the Virgin's Holy Womb.

Weeps the Infant in the manger  That in Bethlehem's stable stands; And His Limbs the Virgin Mother  Doth compose in swaddling bands, Meetly thus in linen folding  Of her God the feet and hands.

Thirty years among us dwelling,  His appointed time fulfill'd, Born for this, He meets his Passion,  For that this He freely will'd: On the Cross the Lamb is lifted,  Where His life-blood shall be spilled.

He endured the nails, the spitting,  Vinegar, and spear, and reed; From that Holy Body broken  Blood and water forth proceed: Earth, and stars, and sky, and ocean,  By that flood from stain are freed.

Faithful Cross! above all other,  One and only noble tree! None in foliage, none in blossom,  None in fruit thy peers may be: Sweetest Wood, and sweetest Iron!  Sweetest Weight is hung on thee.

Bend thy boughs, O Tree of Glory!  Thy relaxing sinews bend; For awhile the ancient rigour,  That thy birth bestowed, suspend; And the King of Heavenly Beauty  On thy bosom gently tend!

Thou alone wast counted worthy  This world's ransom to uphold; For a shipwrecked race preparing  Harbour, like the Ark of old; With the sacred Blood anointed  From the smitten Lamb that roll'd.[2]

To the Trinity be glory  Everlasting, as is meet: Equal to the Father, equal  To the Son, and Paraclete: Trinal Unity, Whose praises  All created things repeat. Amen.