Pange Lingua (latim)

Sing, O tongue, the mystery
Of the glorious Body
And of the precious Blood
Which, for the price of the world
The fruit of a noble womb
The King of nations shed

Given to us, born for us
From the untouched Virgin
And dwelt in the world
After the seed of the Word had been scattered
He closed His dwelling in a wonderful way

On the night of the Last Supper
Reclining with His brothers
Following the law fully
With the food of the legal rites
To the crowd of the twelve
He gives Himself with His hands

The Word made flesh, true bread
By His word made flesh
Becomes the blood of Christ
And if the senses fail
To strengthen a sincere heart
Only faith is enough

Therefore, let us venerate
With bowed heads the sacrament
And let the ancient document
Give way to the new rite
Let faith provide a supplement
For the defect of the senses

To the Father, and to the Son
Be praise and jubilation
Salvation, honor, and power too
And blessing
To the One who proceeds from both
Let there be equal praise

Amen