Eternal Shepherd, spare! Amen.

Now our festal chants shall

sound

Laud of Laurence, laurelcrown'd,

Who hath wrestled valiant

ly: Flower of martyrs, song of praise,

I with heart and voice would raise,

Rich in love and purity. When accused, denied not he: What is fiery pain to thee,

Fire of Christian charity? In the flame, the golden ore Soileth not, but shineth more In its tested purity.

When the lute is tightest strung,

Then the music from it flung Rings in richest melody; So, each fibre wrung with pain,

Burst from him that noblest strain,

True confession's harmony.

Thou torturer, see
How steadfastly
Mid threats, and brands,
And stripes he stands,
Invincible by tyranny:
For hope is given,

And might from heaven,
To meet with

power

The conflict hour,

Wouldst thou treasures? they

are won

Well thy fire its work hath done

For him, but not for thee. Stored they lie with Christ

above,

Treasures of eternal love,
Guerdon of his victory.

Night for him no darkness knows,

Threats, nor fire, nor torturing blows,

Warp his soul's fidelity. His to bless the blind with sight, Wrapt himself in robe of light,

From the present Deity!
He made a good profession,
His torch of faith was
bright;

The glory of confession,
He hid it not in night;
Thro' ages' long procession
It burns, a shining light.

The Master's cross! right well

It pleased the servant then: See him, white flames around him swell,

A holocaust, a spectacle

To angels and to men. Shrinks not he from fiery pain,

Harden to solidity;

So our martyr, tried in pain,

veal'd,

Shines he forth a martyr, seal'd

By his changeless con-
stancy.

While the old man burn'd
away,
Perfect grew the new that
day

In indestructibility: Wherefore grew he strong in fight, Princely champion for the right,

Servant arm'd with loyalty.

Fire to him seem'd dewy shower;

Such of holy zeal the power, Such the might of charity.

and chain,

The odour of his sanctity. Glorious king! for royal

name

Conqueror of a king may claim,

Nerved by grace to victory. Soldier of the King of kings, By thy suff'ring heavy things,

Justice won the mastery. Who hast vanquish'd many a pain, Waiting for thy blessed reign

With Christ in immorta

lity. Win us grace to strive like thee,

That with thine our lot may be At last in heaven's felicity. Amen.

won.

Bright the robe already his, But a brighter far than this Waits he yet in realms of bliss.

Now his faith, his works, his ways, Nights of watching, toilsome days,

Borne for Christ, 'tis meet we praise. He, by word and sign of might,

Soon the conflict hour was done;

But the wreath that moment

won

Blooms while endless ages

run.

Flesh no more shall burden them

Who have won the royal gem,

Christ's unfading diadem.
All is won; reveal'd at last;
All that erst was overcast,
In a dark enigma glass'd.
Labour, conflict, toil, and

strife

Ended with his mortal life; But the peace with blessing rife,

Now, O Christ, bestow'd by thee,

Guerdon of his victory,
Ends not with eternity.

Past is now the time of pain:
Grief that city may not stain,
Seat of fadeless beauty's
reign.

Brother dear, to thee is giv'n,
In that cloudless light of
heav'n,
Radiant morn that knows

not ev'n.

Thou hast found that Guiding One,

Into light who led thee on; Christ, the sole - begotten Son.

Following him with purpose pure,

Erred not thy footsteps sure; In the heavenly road secure.