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Pange lingua gloriosi.[1]
Of the glorious Body telling,
O my tongue, its mysteries sing;
And the Blood, all price excelling,
Which for this world's ransoming
In a generous womb once dwelling,
He shed forth, the Gentiles' King.
Given for us, for us descending
Of a Virgin to proceed,
Man with man in converse blending
Scattered He the Gospel seed:
Till His sojourn drew to ending,
Which He closed in wondrous deed.
At the last Great Supper seated,
Circled by His brethren's band,
All the Law required, completed
In the feast its statutes planned,
To the Twelve Himself He meted
For their food with His own hand.
