Sing, O ye faithful, sing two athlete brothers, Welcomed above to thrones of light supernal; Sing, of Slavonia's race, the glory twofold And strength eternal. One love these brethren bound in sweetest union, By pity same their solitude is broken; Forth they would hasten, unto many bearing Life's blessed token. Soon o'er Bulgaria, Moravia, Bohemia, Light from the heavenly temple shineth glorious. Once savage hordes, now countless flocks, to Peter Lead they victorious. Now with the well-earned crown your brow encircled, Hear, blessèd ones, to suppliant tears bending; Unto the Slavs, erst by your gifts enrichèd, Protection lending. Oh, may each gen'rous land, your aid imploring, Keep bright the faith through every generation; Rome to that land first gave, and ever guardeth, Life and salvation. Lord, of our race Creator and Redeemer, By nature good, all goods on us bestowing, Glory to Thee through ages all, from grateful Hearts overflowing.