Martyrs
of the Arena
Great Caesar, with our dying breath,
Thus we hail thee!
The body thou canst doom to death,
Willing tools will not fail thee;
But the soul shall hold fast her faith.
O Caesar, with our dying breath,
Thus we hail thee!
Great Lord of life and death.
See the town keeps holiday today,
The circus, in festive array.
Now raise a merry shout to the Gods.
With cymbals clashing and trumpets blowing,
Before them the stern lictor's rods.
See the consuls in crimson glowing,
See the pale vestal's white robes flowing,
All attend till the great Caesar nods.
And we, all amid the dread arena,
Naked, defenceless, in God our sole reliance,
We hear, we hear with calm defiance,
The roaring lion and hyena,
Soon to be our living tomb.
Heard ye that ringing cheer?
They open now the cage,
And the tiger and panther in their rage,
They come madly bounding along.
Brethren, be strong!
Lift up the heart in prayer and song!
God
of the martyr and the slave,
O Christ who has triumphed over death,
Come, O come, Thy suffering saints to save.
Now they draw their parting breath!
And death is the dawning of endless light.
Words - J S Stallybrass
Music - Laurent De Rille
Hark! it greets us from eternity;
Now comes the long looked for salvation,
Now dawns the day of liberty.
God of the martyrs and the slave,
O Christ, who has triumphed over death,
Come, O come, Thy suffering saints to save.
Now they draw their parting breath;
And when the life blood is pouring,
And day is darkening into night,
O living God, to thee our souls are soaring
And death is the dawning of endless light.