1 O King of saints with pitying eye,
Thy poor afflicted people see,
Who hold Thy Word, nor dare deny
Thy name, though suffering loss for Thee.
Exposed to shame, and want, and pain,
Crushed by the persecutor’s power,
Thou, Lord, their fainting souls sustain,
And keep them in their trying hour.

2 From anger, and contemptuous pride,
From low revenge, and faithless fear,
Preserve, and still their spirits hide,
Till Thou in their behalf appear.
Their feeble hearts confirm, unite,
And fix on their reward above:
Embolden with Thy Spirit’s might,
And arm them with Thy patient love.

3 Thee let the witnesses confess
Before the rebel sons of men,
Proclaim Thine all victorious grace,
And suffer till with Thee they reign:
To Thee, and to each other cleave,
While midst the ravening wolves they lie,
A pattern to believers live,
A pattern to believers die!