Blest joys for mighty wonders wrought

The year’s revolving orb hath brought,

What time the Holy Ghost in flame

Upon the Lord’s disciples came.

The quivering fire their heads bedewed

In cloven tongues’ similitude,

That eloquent their words might be,

And fervid all their charity.

In varying tongues the Lord they praised,

The gathering people stood amazed;

And whom the Comforter divine

Inspired, they mocked as full of wine.

These things were done in type today,

When Eastertide had worn away,

The number told which once set free

The captive at the jubilee.

And now, O holy God, this day

Regard us, as we humbly pray,

And send us from thy heavenly seat

The blessings of the Paraclete.

Thou once in every holy breast

Didst bid indwelling grace to rest:

This day our sins, we pray, release,

And in our time, O Lord, give peace.

(From The Anglican Breviary)