The eter­nal gifts of Christ the King,
The Apos­tles’ glo­ri­ous deeds, we sing;
And while due hymns of praise we pay,
Our thank­ful hearts cast grief away.

The Church in these her princ­es boasts,
These vic­tor chiefs of war­ri­ors hosts;
The sol­diers of the hea­ven­ly hall,
The lights that rose on earth for all.

’Twas thus the yearn­ing faith of saints,
The un­con­quered hope that ne­ver faints,
The love of Christ that knows not shame,
The prince of this world ov­er­came.

In these the Fa­ther’s glo­ry shone;
In these the will of God the Son;
In these ex­ults the Ho­ly Ghost;
Through these re­joice the hea­ven­ly host.

Redeemer, hear us of Thy love,
That, with this glo­ri­ous band above,
Hereafter, of Thine end­less grace,
Thy ser­vants al­so may have place.