Come all who love the slaugh­tered Lamb,
And suf­fer for His cause;
Enjoy with us His sac­red shame,
And glo­ry in His cross;
His wel­come cross we dai­ly bear,
Hated, re­viled, op­pressed;
We on­ly can His truths de­clare
Who calls the suf­fer­ers blessed.

Our Mas­ter’s bur­den we sus­tain,
Afflicted for His sake,
In loss, re­proach, dis­tress and pain,
A strange de­light we take.
We drink the con­se­crat­ed cup
Our Sav­ior drank be­fore,
And fill our Lord’s af­flict­ions up,
And tri­umph in His pow­er.

His pow­er is in our weak­ness shown,
And per­fect­ly dis­played;
The strength we feel is not our own,
But flows from Christ our Head.
With con­so­la­tions from ab­ove
He fills our rav­ished breast;
The Spir­it of His glo­ri­ous love
On ev­ery soul doth rest.

He takes His suf­fer­ing peo­ple’s part,
And sheds His Love abroad,
And wit­ness­es with ev­ery heart,
Thou art a child of God.
Surely we now be­lieve and feel
Our sins are all for­giv­en;
The out­ward and the in­ward seal
Confirm us heirs of Hea­ven.

Then let us all our bur­den bear,
To Christ our souls com­mend,
Joyful His lot on earth to share
And pa­tient to the end.
Be faith­ful un­to death, He cries,
And I the crown will give;
Amen, the glo­ri­ous Spir­it re­plies,
We die with Thee to live.