Hence they hold a life perennial,

For to pass hath passed away;

Hence they grow and bloom and flourish;
Death is dead and turned to clay:
Strength immortal hath been able
Death's dread law itself to slay.

They who know the One all-knowing,
What can such as they not know?
To the heart's profoundest secrets
Of each other shall they go;
One their will, one their refusal,
Unity of minds they show.

Though to each one for his labor
Diverse merit we may see,

Love, when it hath found its object,
For its own makes this sweet plea:
That, whate'er to each belongeth
Common right of all must be.

Where the carcass may be lying

There will flock the birds of prey;
And where saintly souls, with angels,
Find refreshment, e'en as they,
On one bread live they of this land
And of that land far away.

Novas semper melodias vox meloda concrepat,
Et in iubilum prolata mulcent aures organa,
Digna per quem sunt victores regi dant praeconia.

Christe, palma bellatorum, hoc in municipium
Introduc me post solutum militare cingulum;
Fac consortem donativi beatorum civium!

Probes vires inexhausto laboranti proelio,
Nec quietem post procinctum deneges emerito,
Teque merear potiri sine fine praemio!

There new songs melodious voices
Evermore in chorus raise,
Organs there in jubilation

Soothe the ear with tuneful lays,
To the King by whom they triumph
Give they worthy meed of praise.

Christ who art Thyself the palm-branch Of Thy soldiers brave and tried, Bring me into that strong city

When my sword is laid aside,

To a share in all Thy glory,

'Mid the blest, my footsteps guide!

Prove the strength of each one struggling
In the battle not yet won,

Nor refuse to all Thy warriors
Well-earned rest when strife is done,

Thee to win may I be worthy,

My Reward while ages run.

II

ANTIDOTUM CONTRA TYRANNIDEM PECCATI
Quid, tyranne! quid minaris?
Quid usquam poenarum est,
Quidquid tandem machinaris:
Hoc amanti parum est.
Dulce mihi cruciari,

Parva vis doloris est:
"Malo mori quam foedari!"
Maior vis amoris est.

Para rogos, quamvis truces,
Et quiquid flagrorum est;
Adde ferrum, adde cruces;
Nil adhuc amanti est.

Dulce mihi cruciari,

Parva vis doloris est:

"Malo mori quam foedari!"
Maior vis amoris est.

Nimis blandus dolor ille!

Una mors, quam brevis est!
Cruciatus amo mille,

Omnis poena levis est.

Dulce mihi sauciari,

Parva vis doloris est:
"Malo mori quam foedari!”

Maior vis amoris est.

II

A CURE FOR THE TYRANNY OF SIN

What, O tyrant! What dost threaten?

What thou hast of pain, Whatsoever thou contrivest;

Love counts this but vain.

Sweet it is for me to suffer,
Short is pain's brief hour:
"Than disgrace, to die is nobler!"
Love hath greatest power.

Bring thy funeral piles so cruel,
Scourges, if it please;

Bring the sword and bitter crosses;

Love recks naught of these.

Sweet it is for me to suffer,

Short is pain's brief hour:

Than disgrace, to die is nobler!"
Love hath greatest power.

Nay, too gentle is that suffering!
Once to die, how slight!

Still I love, through countless tortures,

Every pain is light.

Sweet it is to be afflicted

Short is pain's brief hour: "Than disgrace, to die is nobler!" Love hath greatest power.