Rex gloriose martyrum

O Thou, the Martyrs’ glorious King!
Of Confessors the crown and prize
Who dost to joys celestial bring
Those who the joys of earth despise;

By all the praise thy Saints have won;
By all their pains in days gone by;
By all the deeds which they have done;
Hear Thou thy suppliant people’s cry.

Thou dost amid thy Martyrs fight;
Thy Confessors Thou dost forgive;
May we find mercy in thy sight,
And in thy sacred presence live.

To God the Father glory be,
And to his sole-begotten Son;
The same, O Holy Ghost, to Thee!
While everlasting ages run.