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						Lux o decora patriæ,
						Slavisque amica gentibus,
 Salvete, fratres, annuo
 Vos efferemus cantico:
						Quos Roma plaudens excipit,
						Complexa mater filios,
 Auget corona præsulum,
 Novoque firmat robore.
						Terras ad usque barbaras
						Inferre Christum pergitis;
 Quot vanus error luserat,
 Almo repletis lumine.
						Noxis soluta pectora
						Ardor supernus abripit;
 Mutatur horror veprium
 In sanctitatis flosculos.
						Et nunc serena clitum
						Locati in aula, supplici
 Adeste voto; Slavicas
 Servate gentes Numini.
						Errore mersos unicum
						Ovile Christi congreget;
 Factis avitis æmula
 Fides virescat pulchrior.
						Tu nos, beata Trinitas,
						Clesti amore concita;
 Patrumque natos inclyta
 Da persequi vestigia.
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						O lovely light of fatherland!
						Kind beacon to Slavonic race,
 Brothers, all hail! your festival
 With yearly canticle we grace.
						Whom Rome applauding did receive,
						As mother doth her sons embrace,
 With pontiffs miter deck your brows,
 Gird with new strength, new toil to face.
						To far-off barbrous lands ye hie,
						Knowledge and love of Christ to bear;
 Whom error vain had long deceived,
 Ye now with light replenish fair.
						In hearts unfettered from the grasp
						Of ill, doth heavnly ardor glow;
 Where horrid thorns the land devoured,
 The flowers of holiness now grow.
						At length in heavnly court enthroned,
						Ye rest securely; as we pray,
 Oh, hear our cry: the Slavic race
 Vouchsafe from God may never stray.
						All wanderers plunged in errors dark
						May Christs one fold to union bring;
 While emulous of ancestral deeds
 May faith to new-born beauty spring.
						Do Thou, O blissful Trinity,
						Inflame us with Thy heavnly fires,
 And grant the sons may ever tread
 The noble footsteps of their sires.
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