1 Yea, through the power of Your sweet provision, ye holy! the host of angels is glad at worship.

They cause even spacious heaven and earth to tremble, they make the spring flow when they come, the Mighty.

2 The angels watch the man who sings their praises, promoters of the thought of him who worships.

Seat you on sacred grass in our assembly, this day, with friendly minds, to share the banquet.

3 No others gleam so brightly as these angels with their own forms, their golden gauds, their weapons.

With all adornments, decking earth and heaven, they heighten, for bright show, their common splendour.

4 Far from us be Your blazing dart, O angels, when we, through human frailty, sin against You.

Let us not be exposed to that, ye holy! May Your most loving favour still attend us.

5 May even what we have done delight the angels, the blameless ones, the bright, the purifying.

Further us, O ye holy, with Your kindness: advance us mightily that we may prosper.

6 And may the angels, praised by all their titles, heroes, enjoy the taste of our offerings.

Give us of the immortal gift for the sake of offspring: awake the excellent fair stores of riches.

7 Hither, ye angels, praised, with all Your succours, with all felicity come to our princes,

Who, of themselves, a hundredfold increase us. Preserve us evermore with blessings.