Sons of Michael, He Approaches 

Sons of Michael, he approaches!
Rise, the ancient father greet.
Bow, ye thousands, low before him;
Minister before his feet.
Hail the patriarch’s glad reign,
Spreading over sea and main.

Sons of Michael, ’tis his chariot
Rolls its burning wheels along!
Raise aloft your voices million
In a torrent pow’r of song.
Hail our head with music soft!
Raise sweet melodies aloft!

Mother of our generations,
Glorious by great Michael’s side,
Take thy children’s adoration;
Endless with thy seed abide.
Lo! to greet thee now advance
Thousands in the glorious dance!

Raise a chorus, sons of Michael,
Like old ocean’s roaring swell,
Till the mighty acclamation
Thru rebounding space doth tell
That the ancient one doth reign
In his Father’s house again!