The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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THE PATRIOT'S BATTLE PRAYER.
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
THE PATRIOT'S BATTLE PRAYER.
PARAPHRASED FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER.
Father of Life! to Thee, to Thee I call—
The cannon sends its thunders to the sky;
The wingèd fires of slaughter round me fall;
Great God of Battles! let Thy watchful eye
Look o'er and guard me in this perilous hour,
And if my cause be just, oh! arm me with Thy power!
The cannon sends its thunders to the sky;
The wingèd fires of slaughter round me fall;
Great God of Battles! let Thy watchful eye
Look o'er and guard me in this perilous hour,
And if my cause be just, oh! arm me with Thy power!
Oh! lead me, Father, to a glorious end,
To well-won freedom, or a martyr's death;
I bow submissive to Thy will, and send
A soul-felt prayer to Thee in every breath:
Do with me as beseems Thy wisdom, Lord,
But let not guiltless blood defile my maiden sword!
To well-won freedom, or a martyr's death;
I bow submissive to Thy will, and send
A soul-felt prayer to Thee in every breath:
Do with me as beseems Thy wisdom, Lord,
But let not guiltless blood defile my maiden sword!
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God, I acknowledge Thee, and hear Thy tongue
In the soft whisper of the falling leaves,
As well as in the tumult of the throng
Arrayed for fight—this human mass that heaves
Like the vexed ocean. I adore Thy name,
Oh, bless me, God of grace, and lead me unto fame.
In the soft whisper of the falling leaves,
As well as in the tumult of the throng
Arrayed for fight—this human mass that heaves
Like the vexed ocean. I adore Thy name,
Oh, bless me, God of grace, and lead me unto fame.
Oh! bless me, Father! in Thy mighty hand
I place what Thou hast lent—my mortal life;
I know it will depart at Thy command,
Yet will I praise Thee, God, in peace or strife;
Living or dying, God, my voice shall raise
To Thee, Eternal Power, the words of prayer and praise!
I place what Thou hast lent—my mortal life;
I know it will depart at Thy command,
Yet will I praise Thee, God, in peace or strife;
Living or dying, God, my voice shall raise
To Thee, Eternal Power, the words of prayer and praise!
I glorify thee, God, I come not here
To fight for false ambition, vainly brave;
I wield my patriot sword for things more dear,—
Home and my fatherland; the name of slave
My sons shall not inherit. God of Heaven!
For Thee and Freedom's cause my sacred vow is given!
To fight for false ambition, vainly brave;
I wield my patriot sword for things more dear,—
Home and my fatherland; the name of slave
My sons shall not inherit. God of Heaven!
For Thee and Freedom's cause my sacred vow is given!
God, I am dedicate to Thee for ever;
Death, which is legion here, may hem me round;
Within my heart the invader's steel may quiver,
And spill my life-blood on the crimson ground:
Still am I Thine, and unto Thee I call,—
Father, I seek the foe—forgive me if I fall!
Death, which is legion here, may hem me round;
Within my heart the invader's steel may quiver,
And spill my life-blood on the crimson ground:
Still am I Thine, and unto Thee I call,—
Father, I seek the foe—forgive me if I fall!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |