Now sings Thy praise till heav’n re-sounds
The God of patriarchs who face
Thy throne while round the seers stand,
Oh, how they magnify Thy grace,
Delight to go at Thy command:
The prophets and the saintly throng
Extol Thy name with heavenly song.
The God of all the martyred host,
The slain upon the rock of shame,
Of Thee they make their glorious boast,
And fall in wonder at Thy name,
The Church throughout remotest bounds
Now sings Thy praise till heav’n re-sounds.
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