Brethren, don't you hear the sound?
The martial trumpet now is blowing!
Men in order listing round,
And soldiers to the standard flowing.
Bounty's offered--joy and peace;
To every soldier this is given--
When from toils of war they cease,
A mansion bright prepared in heaven.
They who long in sin have lain,
And felt the hand of dire oppression,
Are all released from Satan's chain,
And are endowed with long possession.
The sick and sore, the blind and lame,
The maladies of all are healed,
Outlawed rebels, too, may claim,
And find a pardon freely sealed.
The battle is not to the strong,
The burdens on our Captain's shoulder;
None so aged or so young,
But may enlist, and be a soldier:
Those who cannot fight nor fly,
Beneath the banner find protection;
None who on his arm rely
Shall be reduced to base subjection.
You need not fear;--the cause is good;
Come! who will to the crown aspire?
In this cause the martyrs bled,
Or shouted victory in the fire;
In this cause let's follow on,
And soon we'll tell the pleasing story,
How by faith we gained the crown,
And fought our way to life and glory.
The battle, brethren, is begun,
Behold the armies not in motion!
Some, by faith, behold the crown,
And almost grasp their future portion.
Hark! the victory's sounding loud!
Immanuel's chariot wheels are rumbling
Mourners weeping through the crowd,
And Satan's kingdom down is tumbling.
The Southern Harmony