All Hail, Ye Little Martyr Flowers

All hail

ye lit­tle mar­tyr flow­ers

Sweet rose­buds cut in dawn­ing hours!

When Her­od sought the Christ to find

Ye fell as bloom be­fore the wind.

First vic­tims of the mar­tyr bands

With crowns and palms in ten­der hands

Around the ve­ry al­tar

gay

And in­no­cent

ye seem to play.

What pro­fit­ed this great of­fense?

What use was Hero­d’s vio­lence?

A babe sur­vives that dread­ful day

And Christ is safe­ly borne away.

All hon­or

laud

and glo­ry be

O Je­sus

vir­gin born

to Thee;

All glo­ry

as is ev­er meet

To Fa­ther and to Pa­ra­clete.