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Now my tongue the mystery telling

Pange Lingua

Hymn Code:
3332556111211161765

See Music
details for
Details for
PDF Score
--->
Cyberhymnal
Hymnary.org

Organ
(CM)

4/Dm
PDF Score
Verses 1-4

230.6kb

1.9mb

Organ
(CM)

2/Dm
PDF Score
Verses 5,6

230.6kb

1mb

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle

Pange Lingua
8.7.8.7.8.7

Hymn Code:
3332556111211161765

PDF Score
Cyberhymnal
Hymnary.org

Organ
(CM)

6/Dm

283.6kb

3.2mb

Vocalist`s website
(CW)

6/Dm
Vocals and Organ

6/Em
with Amen

Vocalist`s website
(BH)

6/Dm
Vocals and Organ

285.3kb

Sung Lyrics

3.2mb

(Please note: There maybe differences in the harmony, timing etc between the various recordings.
This is due to the actual hymnbook version I used at the time.)

Now my tongue the mystery telling

Author: Thomas Aquinas
Now, my tongue, the mystery telling
of the glorious Body sing,
and the Blood, all price excelling,
which the gentiles' Lord and King,
in a Virgin's womb once dwelling,
shed for this world's ransoming.

Given for us, and condescending,
to be born for us below,
he, with men in converse blending,
dwelt the seed of truth to sow,
till he closed with wondrous ending
his most patient life of woe.

That last night, at supper lying,
'mid the twelve, his chosen band,
Jesus, with the law complying,
keeps the feast its rites demand;
then, more precious food supplying,
gives himself with his own hand.

Word-made-flesh true bread he maketh
by his word his Flesh to be;
wine his Blood; which whoso taketh
must from carnal thoughts be free;
faith alone, though sight forsaketh,
shows true hearts the mystery.

Therefore we, before him bending,
this great Sacrament revere;
types and shadows have their ending,
for the newer rite is here;
faith, our outward sense befriending,
makes our inward vision clear.

Glory let us give, and blessing
to the Father, and the Son,
honor, might and praise addressing,
while eternal ages run;
ever too his love confessing,
who from both with both is one.

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle

Author: Venantius Fortunatus
Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,
Sing the winning of the fray;
Now above the cross, the trophy,
Sound the high triumphal lay:
Tell how Christ, the world's Redeemer,
As a victim won the day.

Thirty years he dwelt among us,
His appointed time fulfilled;
Born for this, he met his passion,
This the Saviour freely willed;
On the cross the Lamb was lifted,
Where his precious blood was 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 and stain are freed.

Faithful cross! above all other,
One and only noble tree!
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit thy peer 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 rigor
That thy birth bestowed, suspend;
And the King of heav'nly beauty
On thy bosom gently tend!

To the Trinity be glory
Everlasting, as is meet:
Equal to the Father, equal
To the Son, and Paraclete:
God the Three in One, whose praises
All created things repeat.