382. Ye servants of our glorious King

Ye servants of our glorious King,

To Him your thankful praises brin

And tell the deeds that grace has done,

The triumphs by His martyrs won.

Since they were faithful to the last,

Their holy struggles now are past;

The bitterness of death is o'er,

And theirs is bliss for evermore.

The flame did scorch, the knife lay bare,

And cruel beasts their members tear;

No powers of earth, no powers of hell

The souls that loved their Lord could quell.

Forever broken is the chain

That sought to bind them, but in vain:

O let us strive like them to win

Our freedom from the bonds of sin.

O Saviour! may our portion be

With those who gave themselves to Thee,

Through all eternity to sing

All praise to Thee, the Martyrs' King.

All praise to God the Father be,

All praise, Eternal Son, to Thee,

Whom with the Spirit we adore

For ever and for evermore.