Jesus, the glo­ry take!
Afflicted, and op­pressed,
Reviled and hat­ed for Thy sake,
Thou hast pro­nounced us blest:
The bless­ing we re­ceive,
We all our seal set to,
Now, Lord, we feel­ingly be­lieve,
And own that Thou art true.

Faithful and good Thou art;
We taste the heav­en­ly pow­ers,
The glo­ri­ous ear­nest in our heart
Ensures the king­dom ours:
Exceeding glad we are,
Our ra­vished bo­soms swell
With ec­sta­sy too strong to bear,
With joy un­speak­able.

Through per­se­cu­tion bold,
To Thee our songs we raise;
Thee in the fur­nace we be­hold,
Thee in the fires we praise:
We now the pro­mise know,
Sufficient is Thy love
To bear us thro’ these storms be­low,
And land us safe ab­ove.

To suf­fer now is sweet,
For Thou the strength hast giv­en:
And O! how in­fi­nit­ely great
Is our re­ward in Heav­en!
We shall be sure­ly there,
The fight will soon be won;
The cross we now with Je­sus bear
Shall lift us to the throne.

’Twas thus the saints of God,
His mes­sen­gers and seers
The nar­row path of suf­fer­ings trod,
And past the vale of tears,
Through sore af­flict­ions past
To bet­ter worlds above,
And more than con­quered all at last
In our Re­deem­er’s love.

Sufferers like them be­neath,
Through much dis­tress and pain,
Through all the toils of hell and death
We come with them to reign:
With Christ the glo­ri­ous King,
Who wipes our tears away,
And calls us up His praise to sing
In ev­er­last­ing day.