Head of Thy suffering Church below,
We ask in faith the passive power,
Thy perfect strength in weakness show,
And arm us for the dreadful hour.
Prepare the soul Thou first shalt call
To own in death the pardoning God,
To die for Him who died for all,
And seal the record with his blood.
Thy hardy soldier, Lord, enure
The daily cross with joy to prove;
Give him a heart resolved and pure,
And meek, and full of patient love.
Give him, when now the day draws near,
His utter helplessness to see;
Give him the self-mistrusting fear,
The humble awe that cleaves to Thee.
To Thee let him in faith look up,
And claim the succors from above,
And rise to all the strength of hope,
To all th’omnipotence of love.
O’erwhelm him with th’amazing grace,
That He, so poor, so self abhorred,
Least of the blood besprinkled race,
That he should suffer for his Lord!
Give him th’indubitable sign,
That all his sufferings are for Thee;
Assure his heart the cause is Thine,
And Thou wilt get the victory.
Give him, before he bows his head,
The sight to fervent Stephen given,
The everlasting doors displayed,
The glories of a widespread Heaven.
Show him Thyself at God’s right hand:
Thou on the faithful soul look down,
Thou by thy dying champion stand,
And give to him the starry crown.
Inspire him with Thy tender care
For those who nailed Thee to the wood,
And give to his expiring prayer
The men that drive his soul to God.