Head of the hosts in glo­ry!
We joy­ful­ly adore Thee—
Thy church be­low,
Blending with those on high—
Where through the az­ure sky
Thy saints in ec­sta­sy—
For ev­er glow!

Armies of God! in un­ion
With us, through one com­mun­ion—
Pour forth sweet pray­ers:
Our souls in love em­brace—
Around the Sav­ior’s face—
And ask His spe­cial grace
To soothe our cares.

Offer those gold­en vi­als
Of od­ors—for our tri­als—
Before the throne:
Till God the Fa­ther smile
On us—though we were vile—
Now count­ed with­out guile,
Through Christ alone!

Then raise the song of glad­ness,
To dis­si­pate our sad­ness—
Among these tears;
We wend our wea­ry way
Up t’wards the realms of day—
And watch, and wait, and pray,
In con­stant fears!

Holy Apos­tles! beam­ing
With ra­di­ance bright­ly stream­ing
From crowns of pow’r;
Call on the aw­ful name—
That we, through flood and flame
The Gos­pel may pro­claim
In ev­ery hour!

Martyrs! whose mys­tic le­gions
March o’er yon heav’n­ly re­gions
In tri­umph round:
Wave—wave your ban­ners—wave!
Your God—our Sav­ior—clave
For Death it­self a grave—
In hell pro­found!

Saints! in fair circles, cast­ing
Rich tro­phies ev­er­last­ing
At Je­su’s feet—
Amidst our rude alarms,
Stretch forth your con­qu’ring arms,
That we too, safe from harms,
In Heav’n may meet!

Virgins! in bliss trans­cen­dent,
Whose co­ron­als re­splen­dent
Unwithering bloom:
Exalt, in cease­less lays,
Him whom all an­thems praise,
And oft our spi­rits raise
With your per­fume!

Angels, arch­an­gels! glo­ri­ous
Guards of the Church vic­to­ri­ous!
They praise the Lamb!
Crown Him with crowns of light—
One of the Three by right—
Love, ma­jes­ty and might—
The great I AM!