O for thy spirit, holy John, to chasten Lips sin-polluted, fettered tongues to loosen; So by thy children might thy deeds of wonder Meetly be chanted. Lo! a swift herald, from the skies descending, Bears to thy father promise of thy greatness; How he shall name thee, what thy future story, Duly revealing. Scarcely believing message so transcendent, Him for season power of speech forsaketh, Till, at thy wondrous birth, again returneth Voice to the voiceless. Thou, in thy mother's womb all darkly cradled, Knewest thy Monarch, biding in His chamber, Whence the two parents, through their children's merits, Mysteries uttered. Praise to the Father, to the Son begotten, And to the Spirit, equal power possessing, One God whose glory, through the lapse of ages, Ever resoundeth.