Sweet Singers of Wales

Ride to battle, ride victorious,

Gird, O Christ, Thy glittering sword!

Earth can never stand before Thee,

Nor can hell itself, my Lord:

In Thy name such glory dwelleth,

Hostile armies faint with fear;

And the wide creation trembleth

When it feels Thee coming near.

Now release my soul from bondage,

Let the heavenly day be known:

Burst the iron bars in sunder,

Raze the gates of Babylon:

Thrust the captives hence in armies,

Like the torrents of a flood;

Thousand after thousand singing,

Countless--ransomed--multitude!

Even now methinks I hear them,

Voices singing from afar;

They extol the great redemption,

In the land where freemen are:

All of them have snow-white garments,

And aloft the palms they bear;

Crowned with glory all-abounding

Into life they enter there.

Be it mine to share the gladness

Of that joyful day of days;

Every word that Christ has spoken

Shall fulfil itself in grace:

North and south--ten times ten thousand,

From the night that covered them,

Come with sound of silver trumpets

To the New Jerusalem.