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.