PANGE, LINGUA, GLORIOSI, PROELIUM CERTAMINIS

By Venantius Fortunatus. Born in the district of Treviso, Italy, about
530. In 565 he made a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Martin at Tours, and spent the remainder of his years in Gaul. Through the influence of his friend Queen Rhadegunda, Fortunatus became Bishop of Poitiers in
597. Some place his death in the year 609. Fortunatus must have been an author of great industry and versatility. He wrote the life of St. Martin in four books, containing 2245 hexameter lines; he threw off in profusion vers de societé when wandering from castle to cloister in Gaul; and he composed a volume of hymns for all the festivals of the Christian year, which is now unhappily lost. This is his best known hymn, Dr. Neale's translation of which is inserted for the Fifth Sunday in Lent, otherwise called Palm Sunday, in "Hymns Ancient and Modern" (No. 84).

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See the Royal banners
Wave across the sky,
Bright the mystic radiance,
For the Cross is nigh;
And He who came our flesh to wear,
The Christ of God, was wounded there.
Deep the cruel spear thrust,
By the soldier given;
Blood and water mingle,
Where the flesh is riven;
To cleanse our souls the crimson tide
Leapt from the Saviour's riven side.
In the distant ages
Zion's harp was strung,
And the faithful saw Him,
While the prophet sung;
Now Israel's Hope the nations see,
For Christ is reigning from the tree.
Tree of wondrous beauty,
Tree of grace and light,
Royal throne to rest on,
Decked with purple bright;
The choice of God, this royal throne
Whence Christ, the King, should rule His own.
See the branches drooping!
Laden, see they sway!
For the price of heaven
On those branches lay;
Ah! great the price, that price was paid,
By Him on whom the debt was laid.

This, "one of the first of the Latin mediæval hymns," has been credited to St. Hilary. It has also been ascribed to Claudianus Mamertus, who died in 474. But by the majority of authorities it is regarded as the composition of Fortunatus, and ranks next to the Vexilla Regis prodeunt in their estimate. A rendering of it by Keble will be found in his "Miscellaneous Poems," beginning, "Sing, my tongue, of glorious warfare," which is Dr. Neale's "Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle," in a somewhat altered form.

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Tell, my tongue, the glorious conflict,
Crowned with victory nobly won;--
More than all the spoil of battle,
Praise the triumph of God's Son;
How by death the crown of conquest
Graced Him when the strife was done.
Grieving sore o'er Eden's sorrow
When our race in Adam fell;
And the fatal fruit he tasted,
Welcomed sin, and death, and hell;
God ordained a tree in Zion,
Eden's poison to dispel.
In the work of our Redemption
Wisdom met the tempter's foils;--
On the ground he claimed, the Victor
Fought, and bore away the spoils;
And the bane became the blessing,
Freedom sprang amid his toils.
From the bosom of the Father,
Where He shared the regal crown,
At the time by God appointed,
Came the world's Creator down--
God incarnate, born of Virgin,
Shorn of glory and renown.
List! the voice of infant weeping,
Cradled where the oxen stand,
And the Virgin mother watches,
Tending Him with loving hand,--
Hands and feet of God she bindeth,
Folding them in swaddling band.
Blessing, blessing everlasting,
To the glorious Trinity;
To the Father, Son, and Spirit,
Equal glory let there be;
Universal praise be given,
To the Blessed One in Three.