Lord, with what zeal

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 zеal inflame
So constant, and so loving, let us be;
So lеt 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