Two Traditional Catholic Hymns To The Holy Innocents

Salvete flores Martyrum: All Hail, Ye Infant Martyrs

Latin lyrics	English translation
Salvete flores martyrum, quos lucis ipso in limine Christi insecutor sustulit, ceu turbo nascentes rosas. Vos prima Christi victima, grex inmolatorum tener, aram ante ipsam simplices palma et coronis luditis.	Ye flowers of martyrdom, all hail! Of rising morn pure blossoms frail! By Jesu’s foe were ye downcast, Like budding roses by the blast. Lambs of the flock too early slain, Ye first fruits of Christ’s bitter pain! Close to His very altar, gay With palms and crowns, ye now do play.

Latin lyrics

English translation

Salvete flores martyrum,
quos lucis ipso in limine
Christi insecutor sustulit,
ceu turbo nascentes rosas.

Vos prima Christi victima,
grex inmolatorum tener,
aram ante ipsam simplices
palma et coronis luditis.

Ye flowers of martyrdom, all hail!
Of rising morn pure blossoms frail!
By Jesu’s foe were ye downcast,
Like budding roses by the blast.

Lambs of the flock too early slain,
Ye first fruits of Christ’s bitter pain!
Close to His very altar, gay
With palms and crowns, ye now do play.

Neale’s Translation	Version II
All hail! ye infant Martyr-flowers, Cut off in life’s first dawning hours: As rosebuds, snapt in tempest strife, When Herod sought your Saviour’s life. You, tender flock of lambs, we sing, First victims slain for Christ your King: Beneath the Altar’s heav’nly ray With Martyr-palms and crowns ye play. For their redemption glory be, O Jesu, Virgin-born, to thee, With Father, and with Holy Ghost, For ever from the Martyr-host. Amen.	All hail, ye little martyr flowers, Sweet rosebuds cut in dawning hours! When Herod sought the Christ to find Ye fell as bloom before the wind. First victims of the martyr bands, With crowns and palms in tender hands, Around the very altar, gay And innocent, ye seem to play. What profited this great offense? What use was Herod’s violence? A Babe survives that dreadful day, And Christ is safely borne away. All honor, laud, and glory be, O Jesus, virgin-born, to thee; All glory, as is ever meet To Father and to Paraclete.

Neale’s Translation

Version II

All hail! ye infant Martyr-flowers,

Cut off in life’s first dawning hours:

As rosebuds, snapt in tempest strife,

When Herod sought your Saviour’s life.

You, tender flock of lambs, we sing,
First victims slain for Christ your King:
Beneath the Altar’s heav’nly ray
With Martyr-palms and crowns ye play.

For their redemption glory be,
O Jesu, Virgin-born, to thee,
With Father, and with Holy Ghost,
For ever from the Martyr-host. Amen.

All hail, ye little martyr flowers,
Sweet rosebuds cut in dawning hours!
When Herod sought the Christ to find
Ye fell as bloom before the wind.

First victims of the martyr bands,
With crowns and palms in tender hands,
Around the very altar, gay
And innocent, ye seem to play.

What profited this great offense?
What use was Herod’s violence?
A Babe survives that dreadful day,
And Christ is safely borne away.

All honor, laud, and glory be,
O Jesus, virgin-born, to thee;
All glory, as is ever meet
To Father and to Paraclete.

“Audit tyrannus anxius”

AUDIT tyrannus anxius adesse regum principem, qui nomen Israel regat teneatque David regiam.	WITH terror doth the tyrant hear the King of kings hath come to dwell where David’s court shall widely rear A sceptered reign o’er Israel.
Exclamat amens nuntio: <>.	Then cries out, raging at the word: “He comes to stand where we have stood: Hence, soldier, and with ruthless sword deluge the cradles deep with blood!”
Quo proficit tantum nefas? Quid crimen Herodem iuvat? Unus tot inter funera impune Christus tollitur.	What profiteth a crime so dread? What hope shall Herod’s bosom sway? Alone amidst the thronging dead, The Christ is safely born away!
SALVETE, flores martyrum, quos lucis ipso in limine Christi insecutor sustulit ceu turbo nascentes rosas.	ALL hail! ye infant Martyr flowers Cut off in life’s first dawning hours: As rosebuds snapt in tempest strife, when Herod sought your Savior’s life.
Vos prima Christi victima, grex immolatorum tener, aram sub ipsam simplices palma et coronis luditis.	You, tender flock of lambs, we sing, first victims slain for Christ your King: beside the very altar, gay with palms and crowns, ye seem to play.
Iesu, tibi sit gloria, qui natus es de Virgine, cum Patre et almo Spiritu, in sempiterna saecula. Amen.	All honor, laud, and glory be, o Jesu, Virgin-born to Thee; all glory, as is ever meet, To Father and to Paraclete.

The original author of this blog passed away in July of 2016. RIP Father Carota.