St. Stephen's Day

First of the martyred throng
To join his Lord above,
First to commence the endless song

Of his redeeming love;
First to essay the sword and shield,
The holy Stephen takes the field.

First to obtain a crown, —
First — by the mercy-seat —
To lay the blood-bought trophy down

At ts dear Owner's feet;
Through the grave-gates the Saviour burst, —
He homeward heavenward enter'd first.

Men thought the sufferer dead,
And high exultings kept,
But on his blood-stained stony bed

The saint serenely slept,
Wrapped in the banner of the cross,
His all the gain — theirs all the loss.

Lord grant Thy grace that we,
Whate'er our lot may prove,
May learn his high fidelity,

His deep forgiving love;
That boldness which could part with life,
And yet be gentle in the strife.