Te splendor et virtus Patris

O Jesu! life-spring of the soul!
The Father’s Pow’r, and Glory bright!
Thee with the Angels we extol;
From Thee they draw their life and light.

Thy thousand thousand hosts are spread,
Embattled o’er the azure sky;
But Michael bears thy standard dread,
And lifts the mighty Cross on high.

He in that Sign the rebel powers
Did with their Dragon Prince expel;
And hurl’d them from the Heaven’s high towers,
Down like a thunderbolt to hell.

Grant us with Michael still, O Lord,
Against the Prince of Pride to fight;
So may a crown be our reward,
Before the Lamb’s pure throne of light.

Now to the Father, and the Son,
Who rose from death, all glory be;
With Thee, O holy Comforter,
Henceforth through all eternity.

Glory to Jesus, who returns
In pomp triumphant to the sky,
With Thee, O Father, and with Thee,
O Holy Ghost, eternally.