O Sav­ior, who for man hast trod
The wine­press of the wrath of God,
Ascend, and claim again on high
Thy glo­ry left for us to die.

A ra­di­ant cloud is now Thy seat,
And earth lies stretched be­neath Thy feet;
Ten thou­sand thou­sands round Thee sing,
And share the tri­umph of their king.

The an­gel host en­rap­tured waits:
Lift up your heads, eter­nal gates!
O God & Man! the Fa­ther’s throne
Is now for­ev­er­more Thine own.

Our great high priest and shep­herd Thou
Within the veil art en­tered now,
To of­fer here Thy pre­cious blood
Once poured on earth a cleans­ing flood.

And thence the Church, Thy chos­en bride,
With count­less gifts of grace sup­plied,
Through all her mem­bers draws from Thee
Her hid­den life of sanc­ti­ty.

O Christ, our Lord, of Thy dear care,
Thy low­ly mem­bers heav’n­ward bear;
Be ours with Thee to suf­fer pain,
With Thee for­ev­ermore to reign.

All praise from ev­ery heart and tongue
To Thee, as­cend­ed Lord, be sung;
All praise to God the Fa­ther be
And Ho­ly Ghost eter­nal­ly.