Rejoice, ye pure in heart!
Rejoice, give thanks, and sing;
Your festal banner wave on high,
The Cross of Christ your King:
Still lift your standard high,
Still march in firm array,
As warriors through the darkness toil
Till dawns the golden day.

Yes onward, onward still,
With hymn and chant and song,
Through gate and porch and columned aisle
The hallowed pathways throng:
With all the angel choirs,
With all the saints on earth,
Pour out the strains of joy and bliss,
True rapture, noblest mirth.

Your clear Hosannas raise,
And Alleluias loud;
Whilst answering echoes upward float,
Like wreaths of incense cloud:
With voice as full and strong
As ocean's surging praise,
Send forth the hymns our fathers loved,
The psalms of ancient days.

Yes on, through life's long path,
Still chanting as ye go,
From youth to age, by night and day,
In gladness and in woe:
At last the march shall end,
The wearied ones shall rest,
The pilgrims find their Father's house,
Jerusalem the blest.

Then on, ye pure in heart!
Rejoice, give thanks, and sing;
Your festal banner wave on high,
The Cross of Christ your King.
Praise him who reigns on high,
The Lord whom we adore,
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
One God for evermore.


E. M. Plumptre