Words: , 9th Cen­tu­ry (Των ίερων άθλόφορων); trans­lat­ed from Greek to Eng­lish by , 1862, alt. For a dif­fer­ent ver­sion of these lyr­ics, see Let Us Now Our Voic­es Raise.

Music: St. Ke­vin, , 1871.


Let our choir new anthems raise, wake the morn with gladness;
God Himself to joy and praise turns the martyrs’ sadness:
Bright the day that won their crown, opened heav’ns bright portal,
As they laid the mortal down and put on th’immortal.

Never flinched they from the flame, from the torture never;
Vain the foeman’s sharpest aim, Satan’s best endeavor:
For by faith they saw the land decked in all its glory,
Where triumphant now they stand with the victor’s story.

Faith they had that knew not shame, love that could not languish;
And eternal hope o’ercame momentary anguish.
Up and follow, Christian men! Press through toil and sorrow;
Spurn the night of fear, and then, O the glorious morrow!