For man the Sav­ior shed
His all aton­ing blood,
And, oh, shall ran­somed man re­fuse
To suf­fer for his God?

Ashamed who now can be
To own the Cru­ci­fied?
Nay, ra­ther be our glo­ry this,
To die for Him who died?

So felt Thy mar­tyr, Lord;
By Thy right hand sus­tained,
He waged for Thee the bat­tle’s strife,
And threat­ened death dis­dained.

Upon the gold­en crown
Gazing with ea­ger breath,
He fought as one who fain would die,
And, dy­ing, con­quer death.

Alone he stood unmoved
Amid his cru­el foes;
Oh, won­drous was the might that then
Above his tor­tur­ers rose!

Lord, give us grace to bear
Like him our cross of shame,
To do and suf­fer what Thou wilt,
For love of Thy dear name.

Jesu, the king of saints,
We praise Thee and adore,
Who art, with God the Fa­ther One
And Spir­it ev­er­more.