1 The Son of God goes forth to war,
His blood-red banner streams afar:
Who best can drink his cup of woe,
2 The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave,
Who saw his Master in the sky,
Like Him, with pardon on his tongue,
3 A glorious band, the chosen few
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
4 A noble army, men and boys,
Around the Savior's throne rejoice,
They climbed by strength divine from heaven,
Through peril, toil, and pain: