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345

WRITTEN AFTER WALKING OVER SMITHFIELD.

Hail, holy martyrs, glorious names,
Who nobly here for Jesus stood,
Rejoiced, and clapp'd your hands in flames,
And dared to seal the truth with blood!
Strong in the Lord, divinely strong,
Tortures and death ye here defied;
Demons and men, a gazing throng,
Ye braved, and more than conquering died!
Finish'd your course, and fought your fight,
Hence did your mounting souls aspire;
Starting from flesh, they took their flight,
Borne upward on a car of fire.
Where earth and hell no more molest,
Ye now have join'd the heavenly host,
Enter'd into your Father's rest,
And found the life which here ye lost.
Father, if now Thy breath revives
In us the pure, primeval flame,
Thy power, which animates our lives,
Can make us in our deaths the same;
Can out of weakness make us strong,
Arming as in the ancient days,
Loosing the stammering infant's tongue,
And perfecting in babes Thy praise.
Steadfast we then shall stand, and sure
Thy everlasting truth to prove,
In faith's plerophory secure,
In all the' omnipotence of love.

346

Come, holy, holy, holy Lord,
The Father, Son, and Spirit, come!
Be mindful of Thy changeless word,
And make the faithful soul Thy home.
Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
In us Thy glorious Self reveal,
Let us Thy sevenfold gifts partake,
Let us Thy mighty working feel.
Near us, assisting Jesu, stand,
Give us the opening heaven to see,
Thee to behold at God's right hand,
And yield our parting souls to Thee.
My Father, O my Father, hear,
And send the fiery chariot down;
Let Israel's flaming steeds appear,
And whirl us to the starry crown.
We, we would die for Jesus too!
Through tortures, fires, and seas of blood,
All, all triumphantly break through,
And plunge into the depths of God!