Head of Thy Suffering Church Below

Head of Thy suf­fer­ing Church be­low

We ask in faith the pas­sive pow­er

Thy per­fect strength in weak­ness show

And arm us for the dread­ful hour.

Prepare the soul Thou first shalt call

To own in death the par­don­ing God

To die for Him who died for all

And seal the re­cord with his blood.

Thy har­dy sol­dier

Lord

in­ure

The dai­ly cross with joy to prove;

Give him a heart re­solved and pure

And meek

and full of pa­tient love.

Give him

when now the day draws near

His ut­ter help­less­ness to see;

Give him the self-mis­trust­ing fear

The hum­ble awe that cleaves to Thee.

To Thee let him in faith look up

And claim the suc­cors from above

And rise to all the strength of hope

To all th’om­ni­po­tence of love.

O’erwhelm him with th’amaz­ing grace

That He

so poor

so self ab­horred

Least of the blood be­sprin­kled race

That he should suf­fer for his Lord!

Give him th’in­du­bi­ta­ble sign

That all his suf­fer­ings are for Thee;

Assure his heart the cause is Thine

And Thou wilt get the vic­to­ry.

Give him

be­fore he bows his head

The sight to fer­vent Ste­phen giv­en

The ev­er­last­ing doors dis­played

The glo­ries of a wide­spread Heav­en.

Show him Thy­self at God’s right hand:

Thou on the faith­ful soul look down

Thou by thy dy­ing cham­pi­on stand

And give to him the star­ry crown.

Inspire him with Thy ten­der care

For those who nailed Thee to the wood

And give to his ex­pir­ing pray­er

The men that drive his soul to God.