An Antiphon on the Praise of God.
Priest.

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Response.

Priest.

Response.

Priest.

Response.

Priest.

Response.

Lob und Ehr mit stettem Danckopfer

[73]Bohemian Brethren

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869

Praise, glory, thanks, be ever paid

To God the Father who hath all things made,

And to the Son,

Who hath atoned for all that we have done;

And to the Holy Ghost be honour due,

Who the dead soul can with His gifts renew,

And doth impart

God's holy law to every chosen heart.

To this one God, the Lord of Sabaoth,

Be now and evermore

Glory and praise from all the hosts of heaven,

Resounding o'er and o'er;

While all the realm of earth,

All tribes of human birth,

Sing of His greatness and His light,

His mercy, holiness, and might.

Who, Lord, by searching e'er shall find out Thee,

Who fathom Thy dread Being's mystery?

Resist Thy might,

Or hide from Thee and Thine all-piercing sight?

What is there that can live without Thy care,

Of all that swim the waves and fly in air,

Or man or beast?

For all 'tis Thou must spread the constant feast.

O God, Almighty Lord of Sabaoth!

'Tis Thou dost reign;

And the whole world in shape and order due

Thou dost maintain;

Beauty and fruitfulness are Thine,

'Tis Thou dost bid the heavens to shine,

Or sendest showers, or storm, or gloom;

From Thee all life and motion come.

Who, Lord, of us, with thought and tongue so weak,

Shall rightly of the wondrous kindness speak

Which Thy dear Son

At Thy will doeth to us, and hath done?

For didst Thou not to us Thy dearest give,

And promise that in Him we all should live,

From death set free,

And sin and Satan, -- and at peace with Thee?

O God, how great to us, the sin-opprest,

Hath been Thy love!

In Christ Thy Son Thou leadest us to rest,

Bidding us prove

True conquerors o'er the world, the flesh,

The sin that ever tempts afresh;

Clothed in faith's armour, called to be

Knights of a heavenly chivalry.

Therefore, O Father, we Thy wisdom praise,

And ever thankful songs to Thee will raise,

Who through Thy Son

For this Thy little flock so much hast done;

O rule it by Thy Spirit from on high,

And if with much temptation Thou dost try,

Grant it to shine

Here and hereafter as of gold most fine.

Rejoice, ye Christ-believing host, fear nought,

Your cause is won!

For Christ, true Man and God, for you hath fought,

And all is done.

His is the Name o'er every name;

He can of right all honour claim;

To Him be praise and thanks again,

Now and for evermore: Amen.

bohemian brethren
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