Jesus of Na­za­reth, look down
On those Thou call’st Thy flesh and bone,
Thy suf­fer­ing mem­bers here;
Arise, in their de­fense arise,
And now, in all the hea­thens’ eyes,
Be their pro­tect­or near.
[originally, On Is­ra­el’s part ap­pear.]

Thy weak­est con­fess­ors de­fend,
And let them on Thy­self de­pend,
For help in their dis­tress:
Support, con­firm the fee­ble mind,
And keep them all on Thee re­clined,
And keep in per­fect peace.

Let none for­sake the fold and fly,
Let none thro’ fear their Lord de­ny,
But stand the fie­ry hour;
The great­ness of Thy mer­cy prove,
The truth of Thy re­deem­ing love,
And all suf­fi­cient pow­er.

Let none un­war­ily give place
To Sa­tan, with his an­gel face,
And yield their souls to sell;
To sell their con­science, and their God,
Or wea­ry leave the nar­row road,
And go for ease—to hell.

Still may they on the world look down,
Superior to its smile and frown,
Its threats and pro­mis­es;
The tempt­er tread be­neath their feet,
And Thee, where Sa­tan keeps his seat,
In life, and death con­fess.

O, Sav­ior, now their fears re­move,
The sense of Thy re­deem­ing love
Abundantly impart,
To all whose sac­red love we feel;
The pray­er of faith this mo­ment seal
On ev­ery pant­ing heart.