Forth comes the Standard of the King.
All hail, thou Mystery adored!
Hail, Cross, on which the Life Himself
Died, and by death our life re-stored.

On which the Saviour's holy side,
Rent open with a cruel spear,
Its stream of blood and water pour'd,
To wash us from defilement clear.

O sacred Wood, fulfill'd in thee
Was holy David's truthful lay;
Which told the world, that from a Tree
The Lord should all the nations sway.

Most royally empurpled o'er,
How beauteously thy stem doth shine!
How glorious was its lot to touch
Those limbs so holy and divine!

Thrice blest, upon whose arms outstretch'd
The Saviour of the world recline;
Balance sublime! upon whose beam
Was weigh'd the ransom of mankind.

Hail, Cross! Thou only hope of man,
Hail on this holy Passion day!
To saints increase the grace they have;
From sinners purge their guilt away.

Salvation's Fount, blest Trinity,
Be praise to Thee through earth and skies;
Thou through the Cross the victòry
Dost give; Oh give us too the prize!