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At length the longed-for joy is given,
the sacred day begins to shine,
when Christ our God, our hope divine,
ascends the radiant steep of heaven.
Ascending up in majesty,
the Lord resumes his ancient throne;
the heavenly realms with joys unknown,
O Sole-Begotten, welcome thee.
The mighty victory is wrought
the prince of this world lieth low;
the Son of God presenteth now
the human flesh in which he fought.
High o'er the clouds he comes to reign,
gives hope to those who in him trust:
the paradise which Adam lost
he opens wide to man again.
O mighty joy to all our race!
The Virgin-born, who bore for us
the stripes, the spitting, and the cross,
takes on the Father’s throne his place.
To thee let ceaseless praises rise,
champion of our salvation thou,
bearing thy human body now
in the high palace of the skies.
One common joy this day shall fill
the hearts of angels and of men:
to them that thou art come again;
to us that thou art with us still.
Now, following in the steps he trod,
‘tis ours to look for Christ from heaven,
and so to live that it be given
to rise with him at last to God.
Latin, sixth or seventh centuries; trans. Elizabeth Rundle Charles (1828-1896)