7s. M.
Neale.
Every bird that upward springs
Bears the Cross upon his wings;
We without it cannot rise
Upward to our native skies.
Every ship that meets the waves
By the Cross their fury braves;
We, on life’s wide ocean tossed,
If we have it not are lost.
Hope it gives us when distrest,
When we faint it gives us rest;
Satan’s craft, and Satan’s might,
By the Cross are put to flight.
That from sin earth might be free,
Jesus bore it; so must we;
Ne’er through faintness lay it down:
First the Cross, and then the crown!
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