Our Lord the path of suf­fer­ing trod
And since His blood for man hath flowed,
’Tis meet that man should yield to God
The life he owed.
Alleluia, Al­le­lu­ia.

No shame to own the Cru­ci­fied—
Nay, ’tis our im­mor­ta­li­ty
That we con­fess our God who died,
And for Him die.
Alleluia, Al­le­luia.

Filled with this thought, with pa­tient smile
All threats the mar­tyr doth with­stand,
Fights, Lord, Thy cause, and leans the while
Upon Thine hand.
Alleluia, Al­le­luia.

Beholding his pre­des­tined crown,
Into death’s arms he will­ing goes;
Dying, he con­quers death; o’er­thrown,
O’erthrows his foes.
Alleluia, Al­le­luia.

Lord, make us Thine own sol­diers true
Grant us brave faith, a spi­rit pure
That for Thy name, Thy cross in view,
We may en­dure.
Alleluia, Al­le­luia.

Eternal Fa­ther of the Word,
Eternal Word, we Thee adore,
Eternal Spi­rit, God and Lord,
For ev­er­more.
Alleluia, Al­le­luia.