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The sound of war! In earth and air
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The volleying thunders roll:
Their fiery darts the fiends prepare,
And dig the pit, and spread the snare,
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Against the Christian's soul.
The tyrant's sword, the rack, the flame,
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The scorner's serpent tone,
Of bitter doubt the barbed aim,
All, all conspire his heart to tame:
Force, fraud, and hellish fires assail
The rivets of his heavenly mail,
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Amidst his foes alone.
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Gods of the world! ye warrior host
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Of darkness and of air,
In vain is all your impious boast,
In vain each missile lightning tost,
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In vain the tempter's snare!
Though fast and far your arrows fly,
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Though mortal nerve and bone
Shrink in convulsive agony,
The Christian can your rage defy:
Towers o'er his head Salvation's crest,
Faith like a buckler guards his breast,
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Undaunted, though alone.
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Tis past! 'tis o'er! in foul defeat
The Demon host are fled!
Before the Saviour's mercy-seat,
(His live-long work of faith complete,)
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Their conqueror bends his head.
" The spoils Thyself hast gained, Lord!
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I lay before Thy throne:
Thou wert my rock, my shield, my sword;
My trust was in Thy name and word:
'Twas in Thy strength my heart was strong
Thy Spirit went with mine along;
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How was I then alone?"
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marker 99
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echo ' | ';
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