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Lord, with what zeal did thy first Martyr breathe
Thy blessèd truth, to such as him withstood!
With what stout mind embracèd he his death!
A holy witness sealing with his blood!
The praise is thine, that him so strong didst make,
And blest is he, that dièd for thy sake.
Unquenchèd love in him appear'd to be,
When for his murd'rous foes he did intreat:
A piercing eye made bright by faith had he,
For he beheld thee in thy glory set;
And so unmov'd his patience he did keep,
He died, as if he had but fallen asleep.
Our lukewarm hearts with his hot zeal inflame,
So constant, and so loving, let us be;
So let us living glorify thy name;
So let us dying fix our eyes on thee:
And when the sleep of death shall us o'ertake,
With him to life eternal us awake.