Hail, the heaven-born Prince of peace! Glory to the new-born King. ὁ Δικαιοσύνης Ἥλιος ἡμῖν, κλύετ'· ἀγγελικοὶ κελαδοῦσι χοροὶ St. II. vv. 7, 8, vel, μετέχων δὲ βροτοῖς σαρκὸς Ἰησοῦς DEAN ALFORD. Hymns Ancient and Modern.-No. 222. EN thousand times ten thousand, TEN In sparkling raiment bright, The armies of the ransomed Saints Throng up the steeps of light: 'Tis finished! all is finished, Their fight with death and sin; Fling open wide the golden gates, And let the victors in. What rush of Alleluias Fills all the earth and sky! And all its tribes were made! O, then, what raptured greetings What knitting severed friendships up, (ANAPAESTIC. DIM.) Ἰδέ, μυριάκις μύριοι, ἁγνῶν πᾶς στρατός, ἐσθῆτ ̓ ἀργήεσσαν περιβαλλόμενοι, φωτὸς κορυφὰς ὑψηλοτάτας ἀναβαίνουσιν. τετέλεσται ἀγών, πᾶς τετέλεσται, πρὸς ἀσέλγειαν, καὶ πρὸς θάνατον. χρυσῶν δὲ πυλῶν λύσατε μοχλούς· τοῖς νικῶσιν δ ̓ εἴσοδος ἔστω. ποία δ ̓ ἔῤῥηξ ἀλαλαζόντων φωνὴ πιμπλᾶσ ̓ αἰθέρα καὶ γῆν, ἀναριθμήτων τ ̓ ἰαχὴ κιθαρῶν, τέκμαρ νίκης ὡς ἐπιούσης ! ร ὦ φῶς, κτίσεως ἐλπίσι τερπνόν, καὶ πᾶσι βροτοῖς τέλος ἥδιστον ! ༈ ὦ χάρμα, πόνων λήθην παρέχον μισθόν τ ̓ ἄπλετον τῶν πρὶν ὀδυρμῶν! ὡς δ ̓ ἀλλήλους λαμπροῖς κελάδοις ἐν γῇ μακάρων ἀσπάζονται· ξύνοδος δ ̓ ἔσθ ̓ ὡς ἡδεῖα φίλων, ἣν οὐ λύσει μοῖρ ̓, οὐ θάνατος! Then eyes with joy shall sparkle Nor widows desolate. Bring near Thy great salvation, Fill up the roll of Thine elect, Thine exiles long for home; Shew in the heavens Thy promised sign; Thou Prince and Saviour, come. |