Forth went the heralds of the cross,
No dangers made them pause;
They counted all the world but loss,
For their great Master’s cause.
Through looks of fire, and words of scorn,
Serene their path they trod;
And to the dreary dungeon borne,
Sang praises unto God.
Friends dropped the hand they clasped before,
Love changed to cruel hate;
And home to them was home no more;
Yet mourned they not their fate.
In all his dark and dread array,
Death rose upon their sight;
But calmly still they kept their way,
And shrank not from the fight.
They knew to whom their trust was given,
They could not doubt His word;
Before them beamed the light of heaven,
The presence of their Lord.
O, may a faith as true be ours,
And shed as pure a light
Of peace across the darkest hours,
And make the last one bright!