Sanctorum meritis: Difference between revisions

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nec carpsit penetralia.
nec carpsit penetralia.


4. Quæ vox, quæ poterit lingua retexere
4. Quae vox, quae poterit lingua retexere
Quæ tu martyribus munera praeparas?
Quæ tu martyribus munera praeparas?
Rubri nam fluido sanguine laureis
Rubri nam fluido sanguine laureis
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<poem>
<poem>
The merits of the saints, Blessèd for evermore,
The merits of the saints, Blessèd for evermore,
Their love that never faints, The toils they bravely bore—
Their love that never faints, The toils they bravely bore
For these the Church today Pours forth her joyous lay—
For these the Church today Pours forth her joyous lay
These victors win the noblest bay.
These victors win the noblest bay.


They, whom the world of ill, While it yet held, abhorred;
They, whom the world of ill, While it yet held, abhorred;
Its withering flowers that still They spurned with one accord—
Its withering flowers that still They spurned with one accord
They knew them short lived all, And followed at Thy call,
They knew them short lived all, And followed at Thy call,
King Jesu, to Thy heavenly hall.
King Jesu, to Thy heavenly hall.

Revision as of 16:44, 12 April 2013

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Original text and translations

Latin.png Latin text

1. Sanctorum meritis inclita gaudia
Pangamus socii gestaque fortia
Nam gliscit animus promere cantibus
Victorum genus optimum.

2. Hi sunt quo retines mundis inhorruit
Ipsum nam sterile flore per aridum
Sprevere penitus teque secuti sunt,
Rex, Christe, bone caelitum.

3. Hi pro te furias atque ferocia
calcarunt hominum saevaque verbera,
cessit his lacerans fortiter ungula
nec carpsit penetralia.

4. Quae vox, quae poterit lingua retexere
Quæ tu martyribus munera praeparas?
Rubri nam fluido sanguine laureis
Ditantur bene fulgidis.

5. Te, summa Deitas unaque, poscimus,
ut culpas abluas, noxia subtrahes,
Des pacem famulis nos quoque gloriam
per cuncta tibi sæcula.
Amen

English.png English translation

The merits of the saints, Blessèd for evermore,
Their love that never faints, The toils they bravely bore
For these the Church today Pours forth her joyous lay
These victors win the noblest bay.

They, whom the world of ill, While it yet held, abhorred;
Its withering flowers that still They spurned with one accord
They knew them short lived all, And followed at Thy call,
King Jesu, to Thy heavenly hall.

Like sheep their blood they poured, And without groan or tear,
They bent before the sword, For that their King most dear:
Their souls, serenely blest, In patience they possessed,
And looked in hope towards their rest.

What tongue may here declare, Fancy or thought descry,
The joys Thou dost prepare For these Thy saints on high!
Empurpled in the flood Of their victorious blood,
They won the laurel from their God.

To Thee, O Lord most high, One in three Persons still,
To pardon us we cry, And to preserve from ill:
Here give Thy servants peace, Hereafter glad release,
And pleasures that shall never cease.

tr. John Mason Neale

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