O cohors militie
floris virge non spinate,
tu sonus orbis terre,
circuiens regiones
insanorum sensuum,
epulantium cum porcis,
quos expugnasti
per infusum adiutorem,
ponentem radices in tabernacula pleni
operas Verbi Patris.

Tu etiam nobilis
es gens Salvatoris,
intrans viam regenerationis aque
per Agnum,
qui te misit in gladio
inter saevissimos canes,
quie suam gloriam destruxerunt
in operibus digitorum suorum,
statuentes non manufactum
in subiectionem manuum suarum,
in qua non invenerunt eum.

This text is derived from the Wiesbaden manuscript.

O Attendants, in service to that which flowers
upon the freshest branch, without thorns,
You sound the orb of the world,
encircling regions
of raging emotions,
and those feasting among swine,
You strike,
the guidance pouring into you,
setting into the tabernacle's foundation,seeds,
filled by works of the Father's Words.

You are also nobility
in the family of the Savior,
Entered into by a watery rebirth
through the Lamb,
Who sent you, armed,
into the midst of the fiercest of those,
who destroyed their own glory
by the working of their hands,
and then placed
the preciousness that cannot be made by any hands
again into these same hands,
and (they still) found nothing of god.

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