_In coetum coelestem omnium Sanctorum._
Felices animae, quas coelo debita virtus
Jam potuit vestris inseruisse polis:
Hoc dedit egregii non parcus sanguinis usus,
Spesque per obstantes expatiata vias.
O ver, o longae semper seges aurea lucis;
Nocte nec alterna dimidiata dies;
O quae palma manu ridet, quae fronte corona;
O nix virgineae non temeranda togae;
Pacis inocciduae vos illic ora videtis;
Vos Agni dulcis lumina; vos--quid ago?
_To the assembly of all the Saints._
Thrice-happy souls, to whom the prize is given,
Whom faith and truth have lifted into heaven:
Gift of the heavenly Martyrs' dying breath,
Gift of a Faith that burst the gates of Death.
O Spring, O golden harvest of glad light;
Sweet day, whose beauty never fades in night;
The palm blooms in each hand, the garland on each brow,
The raiment glitters in its undimm'd snow;
The regions of unfading peace ye see,
And the meek brightness of the Lamb: how different from me![78] W.