Triplum
 Rome, seat of the church militant
 And triumphant
 For the Father up to the stars;
 Rome, seat too of the clergy calling out 
 And giving praise to the Pope;
 Let Rome call out with freed voice!

 The one whom she [Rome] called Gabriele1
 When she washed him of inherited sin
 By the receiving of baptism,
 She has re-named Eugenius
 Which means 'of noble family'
 By his election as Pope.

 The council which considered this,
 In which holy reason
 Thus led deliberation,
 So that piety alone
 Should reign in the palace
 Which God has blessed.

 Certainly God wished this
 And in this way satisfied
 The scion of the Venetians;
 But the Devil was saddened
 Because there was no sin
 In all this great heap of activity.

 Sweet father of the people,
 Who abhors the sweetness of wine
 And drunkenness,
 Grant to Lentus as your official
 The care of the poor flock
 Lest you should err unwittingly!

 May the Father, one with the Son
 And with the Spirit,
 Give by our solemn prayer
 Joy to Eugenius,
 Who has perfected his mastery,
 In life eternal.
 Amen.

Motetus
 By the judgement of the saints,
 By the upright hearts
 Of clerics, meditating,
 Let no people withdraw
 From his door to the mocking
 Impudence of the shadows,
 For idle sloth
 Seeking long repose
 Eugenius has never known;
 Experience of the law
 With complete justice
 Are his abilities.
 This is the proof:
 He seeks peace for everyone
 Hating sin;
 And conquers the three-fold devilry
 Of the Devil and his troops,
 And the pomp of this world.

 [You whom the people honour2]
 Say that the shield which I brought
 To you, holy father,
 May give holiness, which your 
 Eyes may discern very brightly
 As an image in a mirror.

 Ah, we ask you, most handsome,
 Most tender,
 For a long period of waiting;
 We are led most harshly 
 We know not where, terribly
 To the destruction of the body.

 May the one Trinity,
 God, the true unity,
 Give you the radiance of heaven,
 Which his pure goodness,
 His silvery chastity,
 Have tailored to your way of life. Amen

Contratenor
 The peoples sing of wars, and we bewail
 The times, o holy father:
 One day will set many men free, if you wish it.
 Money and time flow away, and the great journey
 Of the globe must be completed,
 Yet all the world does not know its own God.
 Amen.