King of glory, King of peace,
I will love Thee;
And that love may never cease,
I will move Thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
Thou hast heard me;
Thou didst note my working breast,
Thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing Thee,
And the cream of all my heart
I will bring Thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
Thou alone didst clear me;
And alone, when they replied,
Thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise Thee;
In my heart, though not in Heaven,
I can raise Thee.
Small it is, in this poor sort
To enroll Thee:
E’en eternity’s too short
To extol Thee.

The King of Glory standeth beside the heart of sin;
His mighty voice commandeth the raging waves within;
The floods of deepest anguish roll backward at His will,
As o’er the storm ariseth His mandate, “Peace, be still.”

At times, with sudden glory, He speaks, and all is done;
Without one stroke of battle the victory is won,
While we, with joy beholding, can scarce believe it true
That e’en our kingly Jesus can form such hearts anew.

O Christ, Thy love is mighty; long suffering is Thy grace;
And glorious is the splendor that beameth from Thy face.
Our hearts upleap in gladness when we behold that love,
As we go singing onward, to dwell with Thee above.

The Lord and King of all things
But yesterday was born;
And Stephen’s glorious offering
His birth-tide shall adorn:
No pearls of orient splendor,
No jewels can he show;
But with his own true heart’s blood
His shining vestments glow.

Come, ye that love the martyrs,
And pluck the flowers of song,
And weave them in a garland,
For this our suppliant throng;
And cry, “O thou that shinest
In grace’s brightest ray,
Christ’s valiant protomartyr,
For peace and favor pray!”

Thou first of all confessors,
Of all the deacons crown,
Of every following athlete,
The glory and renown:
Make supplication, standing
Before Christ’s royal throne,
That He would give the kingdom,
And for our sins atone!