O Son of God, our cap­tain of sal­va­tion,
Thyself by suf­fer­ing schooled to hu­man grief,
We bless Thee for Thy sons of con­so­la­tion,
Who fol­low in the steps of Thee their chief.

Those whom Thy Spir­it’s dread vo­ca­tion se­vers
To lead the van­guard of Thy con­quer­ing host;
Whose toil­some years are spent in brave en­dea­vors
To bear Thy sav­ing name from coast to coast.

Those whose bright faith makes fee­ble hearts grow strong­er,
And sends fresh war­ri­ors to the great cam­paign,
Bids the lone con­vert feel es­tranged no long­er,
And wins the sun­dered to be one again.

And all true help­ers, pa­tient, kind, and skill­ful,
Who shed Thy light across our dark­ened earth,
Counsel the doubt­ing, and re­strain the will­ful,
Soothe the sick bed, and share the child­ren’s mirth.

Such was Thy Le­vite, strong in self obla­tion,
To cast his all at Thine apos­tles’ feet;
He whose new name, through eve­ry Chris­tian na­tion,
From age to age our thank­ful strains re­peat.

Thus, Lord, Thy bless­èd saints in me­mo­ry keep­ing,
Still be Thy Church’s watch­word, Com­fort ye,
Till in our Fa­ther’s house shall end all weep­ing,
And ev­ery want be sa­tis­fied in Thee.