O glorious King of martyr hosts,
Thou crown that each confessor boasts,
Who leadest to celestial day
The saints who cast earth’s joys away;

Thine ear in mercy, Savior, lend,
While unto Thee our prayers ascend;
And as we count their triumphs won,
Forgive the sins that we have done.

Martyrs in Thee their triumph gain,
Confessors grace from Thee obtain;
We sinners humbly seek to Thee,
From sin’s offense to set us free.

All laud to God the Father be,
All praise, eternal Son, to Thee;
All glory, as is ever meet,
To God the holy Paraclete.

The Lamb’s high banquet we await
In snow white robes of royal state;
And now, the Red Sea’s channel past,
To Christ, our Prince, we sing at last.

Upon the altar of the cross
His body hath redeemed our loss;
And tasting of His roseate blood
Our life is hid with Him in God.

That Paschal eve God’s arm was bared;
The devastating angel spared:
By strength of hand our hosts went free
From Pharaoh’s ruthless tyranny.

Now Christ our Paschal Lamb is slain;
The Lamb of God that knows no stain;
The true oblation offered here,
Our own unleavened bread sincere.

O Thou from whom hell’s monarch flies,
O great, O very sacrifice,
Thy captive people are set free,
And endless life restored in Thee.

For Christ, arising from the dead,
From conquered hell victorious sped;
He thrusts the tyrant down to chains,
And Paradise for man regains.