ul men, thou undergo.
Endure that grief; let not the heathens' might
Turn thee aside, nor bitter strife of spears,
That thou depart from God who is thy Lord.
Be eager aye for glory, bear in mind 960
How it was widely known to many men,
Through many lands, that sinners mocked at Me
Bound fast in chains, reviled Me with their words,
Struck Me and scourged Me; with their taunting speech
Those sinful men could not declare the truth.
When 'mong the Jews I hung upon the cross,
When high the rood was raised, a certain man
Let forth the blood from out My wounded side
Upon the ground. Full many grievous woes
I suffered on the earth; I wished to give 970
A high example to you by My grace,
Which shall be known 'mong men of foreign land.
Many there are within this famous town
Whom thou shalt turn unto the light of heaven
In My name, though they have in days gone by
Accomplished many deeds of violence."
The Holy One departed, King of kings,
In blessedness to seek the heavens above,
That purest home; there is for every man
Glory enow, for those who can attain. 980

That much-enduring man, brave for the fight,
Obeyed God's word; he went into the town
Forthwith, that steadfast warrior, with might
Endowed, courageous-hearted, true to God;
He walked along the street, the path his guide,
In such wise that no one could him behold,
No sinful man could see, for on the mead
The Lord victorious had covered him,
That chief beloved, with His protecting care
And His high favor. So the noble saint 990
Nigh to the prison pressed his way in haste,
The champion of Christ. He saw a band
Of heathens gathered, seven warders there
Before the gate; death snatched them all away;
They perished powerless; the fierce rush of death
Clutched them all bloody. Then the holy saint
Prayed to the gracious Father in his heart;
He praised on high the goodness and the power
Of Heaven's King. The door forthwith gave way
At holy Andrew's touch; then entered in 1000
The hero brave with thoughts of courage bold.
The heathens there were sleeping drunk with blood;
With their own blood they stained the field of death.

Matthew he saw within that murderous den,
The warrior stout, within the prison mirk,
Singing the praise of God, and worshiping
The angels' King. Alone he sat in grief