JESUS, LORD of Life Eternal,
Taking those He loved the best,
Stood upon the Mount of Olives,
And His Own the last time blest:
Then, though He had never left it,
Sought again his FATHER’s breast.
Knit is now our flesh to Godhead,
Knit in everlasting bands:
Call the world to highest festal:
Floods and oceans, clap your hands:
Angels, raise the song of triumph!
Make response, ye distant lands!
Loosing Death with all its terrors
Thou ascended’st up on high;
And to mortals, now Immortal,
As Thine own Disciples saw Thee
Mounting victor to the sky!
Monarch of monarchs, Sole of Sole, to Thee,
WORD, Glorious in Thy FATHER’s Majesty,
And sending Thy co-equal SPIRIT bright
To teach, to comfort, and to guide aright,
Thine own Apostles sang: All glory to Thy might!
Translator: John Mason Neale (1862)
Author: Joseph of the Studium, Saint, 762-832