The Martyrs’ Hymn
From the German by William Johnson Fox
FLUNG to the heedless winds,
Or on the waters cast,
The martyrs’ ashes, watched,
Shall gathered be at last;
And from that scattered dust,
Around us and abroad,
Shall spring a plenteous seed
Of witnesses for God.
The Father hath received
Their latest living breath;
And vain is Satan’s boast
Of victory in their death;
Still, still, though dead, they speak,
And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim
To many a wakening land
The one availing name.