Maundy Thursday: Pange Lingua, gloriosi

Written by St. Thomas Aquinas in the 13th Century, the hymn extols the Eucharist and Christ's sacrifice in giving it. Below are the words, in Latin and the glorious, glorious English translation by Edward Caswall, a 19th-Century Anglican clergyman and hymn writer (who later converted to Roman Catholicism).

Listen to a stunningly beautiful version of it here, an mp3 of the St. Thomas Fifth Avenue Solemn Maundy Thursday Eucharist, sung to the hymn tune Grafton. I love the plainsong version - but this is really so lovely and loving that it's difficult to listen to, in its context, without tears welling in the eyes. The hymn, with organ accompaniment, starts at around 1:43:30; at the moment I think it's the loveliest hymn ever written. There are long pauses between verses as the Sacrament is taken in procession to the Altar of Repose. (The whole service is very worth listening to; you'll hear the crotalus used at the consecration, and the sound of palm branches scrubbing the altar as it's stripped at the very end of the service, during the chanting of Psalm 22. Here's the service leaflet, in PDF; here's Coverdale Psalm 22, the version they're singing.)

Pange, lingua, gloriosi
Corporis mysterium,
Sanguinisque pretiosi,
quem in mundi pretium
fructus ventris generosi
Rex effudit Gentium.

Nobis datus, nobis natus
ex intacta Virgine,
et in mundo conversatus,
sparso verbi semine,
sui moras incolatus
miro clausit ordine.

In supremae nocte coenae
recumbens cum fratribus
observata lege plene
cibis in legalibus,
cibum turbae duodenae
se dat suis manibus.

Verbum caro, panem verum
verbo carnem efficit:
fitque sanguis Christi merum,
et si sensus deficit,
ad firmandum cor sincerum
sola fides sufficit.

Tantum ergo Sacramentum
veneremur cernui:
et antiquum documentum
novo cedat ritui:
praestet fides supplementum
sensuum defectui.

Genitori, Genitoque
laus et jubilatio,
salus, honor, virtus quoque
sit et benedictio:
Procedenti ab utroque
compar sit laudatio.

Amen. Alleluja.

NOW, my tongue, the mystery telling
Of the glorious Body sing,
And the Blood, all price excelling,
Which the Gentiles’ Lord and King,
Once on earth among us dwelling,
Shed for this world’s ransoming.

Given for us, and condescending
To be born for us below,
He with men in converse blending
Dwelt, the seed of truth to sow,
Till he closed with wondrous ending
His most patient life of woe.

That last night at supper lying
Mid the twelve, his chosen band,
Jesus, with the Law complying,
Keeps the feast its rites demand;
Then, more precious food supplying,
Gives himself with his own hand

Word-made-flesh, true bread he maketh
By his word his Flesh to be,
Wine his Blood; when man partaketh,
Though his senses fail to see,
Faith alone, when sight forsaketh,
Shows true hearts the mystery.

Therefore we, before him bending,
This great Sacrament revere;
Types and shadows have their ending,
For the newer rite is here;
Faith, our outward sense befriending,
Makes our inward vision clear.

Glory let us give and blessing
To the Father and the Son,
Honor, thanks, and praise addressing,
While eternal ages run;
Ever too his love confessing
Who from both with both is One.

Amen. Alleluia.