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tr., John Brownlie



Behold the victor host appear,

With laurels won in mortal strife;

Undaunted by the threat of fears,

When marshalled by the Prince of Life.


The Prince upon His throne awaits,

As, forward, upward like a tide,

They win the everlasting gates,

Thrust by angelic hosts aside.


Glory to Christ, their song proclaims,

And heart and voice give worship meet;

While, as they shout their loud acclaims,

They lay their laurels at His feet.


O victor hosts who strive no more,

May we, inspired, the fight maintain;

That when our strife with sin is o'er,

We may with you like bliss attain.


O Christ our Lord, to Thee we sing;

Thy grace extend till life is past;

And we our crowns exulting bring,

To lay them at Thy feet at last.

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