Ye servants of our glo­ri­ous king,
To Him your thankful praises bring;
And tell the deeds that grace has done,
The triumphs by His martyrs won.

Since they were faithful to the last,
Their holy struggles now are past;
The bitterness of death is o’er,
And theirs is bliss for­ev­er­more.

The flame might scorch, the knife lay bare,
And cruel beasts their members tear;
No powers of earth, no powers of hell
The souls that loved their Lord could quell.

Forever broken is the chain
That sought to bind them, but in vain;
O let us strive like them to win
Our freedom from the bonds of sin.

O Sav­ior, may our portion be
With those who gave themselves to Thee,
Through all eternity to sing
All praise to Thee, the martyrs’ king.