In Christ’s dear name, where crimson mercy flows,
Redeemed souls rise, washed clean from Adam’s stain;
No longer thrall to sin’s unfeeling throes,
But bound in love’s bright, everlasting chain.
If thou art His, and bear the Savior’s mark,
Then hate the lash that scars the tender back,
The fist that strikes the child in shadowed dark,
The blade that lays the harmless creature slack.

O cruelty, thou viper from the pit,
Thou mock’st the Lord who healed the broken reed;
Who gathered lambs and bade the sparrow flit
Beneath His gaze, in gentle, sovereign heed.
He wept for Lazarus, for Jerusalem’s woe,
And stooped to lift the fallen, bruised, and low.

Shall we, bought dear with blood on Calvary’s tree,
Endure the groan of woman in her chains?
The orphan’s cry that rends the midnight sea,
The beast that bleeds beneath uncaring reins?
Nay—let the redeemed soul blaze with holy ire,
A furnace hot against each brutal wrong;
For love and hatred twine as sacred fire:
Love to the weak, and hatred fierce and strong.

To every hand that lifts in needless pain,
To every tongue that wounds the widow’s breast,
To every eye that sees and turns in vain—
The Christ within cries, “This shall find no rest!”
For He who made the eagle, ox, and dove,
And fashioned man in His own image bright,
Commands us guard the weak with jealous love,
And tread down cruelty with warrior’s might.

Thus walk, O soul, in garments white and pure,
A pilgrim marked by pity’s thorn-crowned brow;
Let mercy be thy banner, swift and sure,
Till heaven’s dawn dissolves all shadows now.
In Jesus’ name, where every tear is dried,
No cruelty shall stand—hate it, justified.