Sing, my tongue, the Saviour's glory
Pange Lingua gloriosi

Tr. Rev. E. Caswall
M. Haydn

1.
Sing, my tongue, the Saviour's glory,
Of His Flesh the myst'ry sing;
Of the Blood all price exceeding
Shed by our immortal King,
Destined, for the world's redemption,
From a noble womb to spring,

2.
Of a pure and spotless Virgin
Born for us on earth below,
He, as Man, with man conversing,
Stayed, the seeds of truth to sow;
Then He closed in solemn order
Wonderously His Life of Woe.

3.
On the night of that Last Supper,
Seated with His chosen band,
He the Paschal victim eating,
First fulfills the law's command;
Then, as Food to His Apostles
Gives Himself with His own Hand.

4.
Word made Flesh, the bread of nature
By His word to Flesh He turns;
Wine into His Blood He changes:
What through sense no change discerns?
Only be the heart in earnest,
Faith her lesson quickly learns.

Tantum ergo Sacramentum

5.
Down in adoration falling,
Lo! The sacred Host we hail;
Lo! O'er ancient forms departing,
Newer rites of grace prevail;
Faith for all defects supplying,
Where the feeble senses fail.

6.
To the Everlasting Father,
And the Son Who reigns on high,
With the Holy Ghost proceeding
Forth from Each eternally,
Be salvation, honor, blessing,
Might, and endless majesty. Amen.

Copyright 1920 by N. A. M.
Page 79-80