Chant School Floriani

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Round roll the weeks our hearts to greet, With blissful joy returning; For lo! The Holy Paraclete On twelve bright brows sits burning:With quivering flame He lights on each, In fashion like a tongue, to teach That eloquent they are of speech, Their hearts with true love yearning.While with all tongues they speak to all, The nations deem them maddened, And drunk with wine the Prophets call, Whom God’s good Spirit gladdened;A marvel this—in mystery done— The holy Paschaltide outrun, By numbers told, whose reckoning won Remission for the saddened.O God most Holy, Thee we pray, With reverent brow low bending, Grant us the Spirit’s gifts to-day— The gifts from heaven descending;And, since, Thy grace hath deigned to bide Within our breasts once sanctified, Deign, Lord, to cast our sins aside, Henceforth calm seasons sending.To God the Father, laud and praise, Praise to the Son be given; Praise to the Spirit of all grace, The fount of graces seven—As was of old, all worlds before, Is now and shall be evermore, When time and change are spent and o’er— All praise in earth and heaven.

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1. Now Christ, ascending whence He came,
Had mounted o'er the starry frame,
The Holy Ghost on man below,
The Father's promise, to bestow.

2. The solemn time was drawing nigh,
Replete with heav'nly mystery,
On seven days' sevenfold circles borne,
That first and blessed Whitsunmorn.

3. When the third hour shone all around,
There came a rushing mighty sound,
And told the Apostles, while in prayer,
That, as was promised, God was there.

4. Forth from the Father's light it came,
That beautiful and kindly flame:
To fill with fervor of His word
The spirits faithful to their Lord.

5. With joy the Apostles' breasts are fired,
By God the Holy Ghost inspired:
And straight, in divers kinds of speech,
The wondrous works of God they preach.

6. To men of every race they speak,
Alike Barbarian, Roman, Greek:
From the same lips, with awe and fear,
All men their native accents hear.

7. But Juda's sons, e'en faithless yet,
With mad infuriate rage beset,
To mock Christ's followers com-
As drunken all with new-made wine.

8. When lo! with signs and mighty deeds,
Stands Peter in the midst, and pleads;
Confounding their malignant lie
By Joel's ancient prophecy.

9. To God the Father let us sing,
To God the Son, our risen King,
And equally let us adore
The Spirit, God for evermore.

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Hail, Thou who man’s Redeemer art, Jesu, the joy of every heart; Great Maker of the world’s wide frame, And purest love’s delight and flame:What nameless mercy Thee o’ercame, To bear out load of sin and shame? For guiltless, Thou Thy life didst give, That sinful erring man might live.The realms of woe are forced by Thee, Its captives from their chains set free; And Thou, amid Thy ransomed train, At God’s right hand dost victor reign.Let mercy sweet with Thee prevail, To cure the wounds we now bewail; Oh, bless us with Thy holy sight, And fill us with eternal light.Our guide, our way to heavenly rest, Be Thou the aim of every breast; Be Thou the soother of our tears, Our sweet reward above the spheres.

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IN THIS our bright and Paschal day
the sun shines out with purer ray,
when Christ, to earthly sight made plain,
the glad Apostles see again.

The wounds, the riven wounds he shows
in that his flesh with light that glows,
in loud accord both far and nigh
the Lord's arising testify.

O Christ, the King who lovest to bless,
do thou our hearts and souls possess;
to thee our praise that we may pay,
to whom our laud is due for aye.

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Light's glittering morn bedecks the sky,
heaven thunders forth its victor cry,
the glad earth shouts its triumph high,
and groaning hell makes wild reply:

2 While he, the King of glorious might,
treads down death's strength in death's despite,
and trampling hell by victor's right,
brings forth his sleeping Saints to light.

3 Fast barred beneath the stone of late
in watch and ward where soldiers wait,
now shining in triumphant state,
He rises Victor from death's gate.

4 Hell's pains are loosed, and tears are fled;
captivity is captive led;
the Angel, crowned with light, hath said,
'The Lord is risen from the dead.'

5 O Christ, the King who lovest to bless,
do thou our hearts and souls possess;
to thee our praise that we may pay,
to whom our laud is due for aye.]

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1. The Lamb's high banquet we await
in snow-white robes of royal state:
and now, the Red Sea's channel past,
to Christ our Prince we sing at last.

2. Upon the Altar of the Cross
His Body hath redeemed our loss:
and tasting of his roseate Blood,
our life is hid with Him in God.

3. That Paschal Eve God's arm was bared,
the devastating Angel spared:
by strength of hand our hosts went free
from Pharaoh's ruthless tyranny.

4. Now Christ, our Paschal Lamb, is slain,
the Lamb of God that knows no stain,
the true Oblation offered here,
our own unleavened Bread sincere.

5. O Thou, from whom hell's monarch flies,
O great, O very Sacrifice,
Thy captive people are set free,
and endless life restored in Thee.

6. For Christ, arising from the dead,
from conquered hell victorious sped,
and thrust the tyrant down to chains,
and Paradise for man regains.

7. We pray Thee, King with glory decked,
in this our Paschal joy, protect
from all that death would fain effect
Thy ransomed flock, Thine own elect.

8. To Thee who, dead, again dost live,
all glory Lord, Thy people give;
all glory, as is ever meet,
to Father and to Paraclete. Amen.