- Sanctorum meritis inclyta gaudia
Pangamus socii, gestaque fortia:
Gliscens fert animus promere cantibus
Victorum genus optimum.
- Hi sunt, quos fatue mundus abhorruit;
Hunc fructu vacuum, floribus aridum
Contempsere tui nominis asseclæ
Jesu Rex bone cœlitum.
- Hi pro te furias, atque minas truces
Calcarunt hominum, sævaque verbera:
His cessit lacerans fortiter ungula,
Nec carpsit penetralia.
- Cæduntur gladiis more bidentium:
Non murmur resonat, non querimonia;
Sed corde impavido mens bene conscia
- Quæ vox, quæ poterit lingua retexere,
Quæ tu Martyribus munera præparas?
Rubri nam fluido sanguine fulgidis
Cingunt tempora laureis.
- Te summa o Deitas, unique poscimus;
Ut culpas abigas, noxia subtrahas,
Des pacem famulis, ut tibi gloriam
Annorum in seriem canant.
- Sing, O Sons of the Church sounding the Martyrs’ praise!
God’s true soldiers applaud, who, in their weary days,
Won bright trophies of good, glad be the voice ye raise,
While these heroes of Christ ye sing!
- They, while yet in the world were by the world abhorred;
Felt how fading the joys, fleeting the wealth it stored;
Spurned all pleasure for Thee, and at Thy call, O Lord,
Came forth strong in Thy Name, as King.
- Lord, how bravely they bore fury and pain for Thee!
Scourge, rod, sword, and the rack strongly endured; but free
Sang out, bold in Thy love, longing on high to be;
Earth’s might never their souls could bend.
- While they, shedding their blood, victims for Jesus fell,
No sound out of their lips came of their throes to tell;
Bowed low, patient and meek, loving the Lord so well,
Turned they still to the Christ, their Friend.
- What joys, bright with the blood shed for thy love they share,
Those brave Martyrs of Thine crowned with Thy laurels rare;
Man’s tongue never can tell, never can half declare,
How pure now is their bliss above!
- Yet we, Father on high, God of eternal might,
Lift weak voices in prayer asking for peace and light;
Cleanse Thou out of our hearts every stain and blight,
So our songs may be songs of love.