Words: , 1523 (Ein neu­es Lied wir he­ben an); trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by John A. Mess­en­ger, 1843.

On June 23, 1523, two young Au­gus­tin­i­an monks, Hein­rich Voes and Jo­hann Esch, from An­twerp, had been, af­ter ex­am­in­a­tion by the Co­logne In­quis­i­tor, Ja­cob von Hogs­tra­ten, and at the in­sti­ga­tion of the Lou­vain pro­fess­ors, con­demned to death and burnt at the stake in Bruss­els. On re­ceipt of the news of this first mar­tyr­dom for the Evan­gel­ical cause Lu­ther’s spir­it was fired, and he wrote this spir­it­ed nar­ra­tive, end­ing with the pro­phe­tic words [trans­lat­ed by , 1854]:

Summer is even at our door,
The winter now hath vanished,
The tender flowerets spring once more,
And He, who winter banished,
Will send a happy Summer.

Music: Ibstone, , 1875.

Flung to the heedless winds,
Or on the waters cast,
The martyrs’ ashes, watched,
Shall gathered be at last.

And from that scattered dust,
Around us and abroad,
Shall spring a plenteous seed,
Of witnesses for God.

The Father hath received,
Their latest living breath,
And vain is Satan’s boast,
Of victory in their death.

Still, still, though dead, they speak,
And, trumpet tongued, proclaim,
To many a wakening land,
The one availing Name.