Theirs not a jeweled crown, a blood stained sword;
Theirs, by sweet love, for Christ a kingdom won.
5
Make them apostles, heralds of Thy cross,
Forth may they go to tell all realms Thy grace;
Inspired of Thee, may they count all but loss,
And stand at last with joy before Thy face.
6
O mighty age of prophet kings, return!
O truth, O faith, enrich our urgent time!
Lord Jesus Christ, again with us sojourn;
A weary world awaits Thy reign sublime.
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