Common of Many Martyrs: English Texts

 Common of Many Martyrs: English Texts

 

Vespers: Sanctorum meritis

 

The merits of the saints

blessèd for evermore,

their love that never faints,

the toils they bravely bore:

for these the Church today

pours forth her joyous lay:

these victors won the noblest bay.

 

They, whom this world of ill,

while it yet held, abhorred;

its withering flowers that still

they spurned with one accord:

they knew them short-lived all,

and followed at thy call,

King Jesus, to thy heavenly hall.

 

Like sheep their blood they poured;

and without groan or tear,

they bent before the sword

for that their King most dear:

their souls, serenely blest,

in patience they possessed,

and looked in hope towards their rest.

 

What tongue may here declare,

fancy or thought descry,

the joys thou dost prepare

for these thy saints on high!

Empurpled in the flood

of their victorious blood,

they won the laurel from their god.

 

To thee, O Lord most high,

One in Three Persons still,

to pardon us as we cry,

and to preserve us from ill:

here give thy servants peace,

hereafter glad release,

and pleasures that shall never cease.

Amen.

 

Lauds: Rex Gloriose Martyrum

 

O glorious King of martyr hosts,

Thou crown that each confessor boasts,

Who leadest to celestial day

The saints who cast earth’s joys away;

 

Thine ear in mercy, Savior, lend,

While unto Thee our prayers ascend;

And as we count their triumphs won,

Forgive the sins that we have done.

 

Martyrs in Thee their triumph gain,

Confessors grace from Thee obtain;

We sinners humbly seek to Thee,

From sin’s offense to set us free.

 

All laud to God the Father be,

All praise, eternal Son, to Thee;

All glory, as is ever meet,

To God the holy Paraclete.

 

 

Matins/Office of Readings

 

Th’ eternal gifts of Christ the King,

The Martyrs’ glorious deeds, we sing:

And while due hymns of praise we pay,

Our thankful hearts cast grief away.

 

The terrors of the world despis’d,

The body’s torments lightly priz’d,

By one brief space of death and pain

Life everlasting they obtain.

 

To flames the Martyr Saints are hal’d:

By teeth of savage beasts assail’d:

Against them, arm’d with ruthless brand

And hooks of steel, the torturers stand.

 

The mangled frame is tortur’d sore:

The holy life-drops freshly pour:

They stand unmov’d amidst the strife,

By grace of everlasting life.

 

Redeemer, hear us of Thy love,

That, with the Martyr Host above,

Hereafter, of Thine endless grace,

Thy servants also may have place. Amen.