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!