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Lux o decora patriæ,
Slavisque amica gentibus,
Salvete, fratres, annuo
Vos efferemus cantico:
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Quos Roma plaudens excipit,
Complexa mater filios,
Auget corona præsulum,
Novoque firmat robore.
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Terras ad usque barbaras
Inferre Christum pergitis;
Quot vanus error luserat,
Almo repletis lumine.
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Noxis soluta pectora
Ardor supernus abripit;
Mutatur horror veprium
In sanctitatis flosculos.
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Et nunc serena clitum
Locati in aula, supplici
Adeste voto; Slavicas
Servate gentes Numini.
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Errore mersos unicum
Ovile Christi congreget;
Factis avitis æmula
Fides virescat pulchrior.
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Tu nos, beata Trinitas,
Clesti amore concita;
Patrumque natos inclyta
Da persequi vestigia.
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O lovely light of fatherland!
Kind beacon to Slavonic race,
Brothers, all hail! your festival
With yearly canticle we grace.
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Whom Rome applauding did receive,
As mother doth her sons embrace,
With pontiffs miter deck your brows,
Gird with new strength, new toil to face.
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To far-off barbrous lands ye hie,
Knowledge and love of Christ to bear;
Whom error vain had long deceived,
Ye now with light replenish fair.
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In hearts unfettered from the grasp
Of ill, doth heavnly ardor glow;
Where horrid thorns the land devoured,
The flowers of holiness now grow.
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At length in heavnly court enthroned,
Ye rest securely; as we pray,
Oh, hear our cry: the Slavic race
Vouchsafe from God may never stray.
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All wanderers plunged in errors dark
May Christs one fold to union bring;
While emulous of ancestral deeds
May faith to new-born beauty spring.
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Do Thou, O blissful Trinity,
Inflame us with Thy heavnly fires,
And grant the sons may ever tread
The noble footsteps of their sires.
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