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205

THE PURITAN MILITANT.

Ichabod, Ichabod!—Never to rise again.
Godless Prelate and King!
Courage, ye saints of God! Lift up your eyes again!
Lift up your voice and sing!
Chant we, brothers, in chorus
Through the fires of tribulation,
For the Lamb hath gone before us,
Our Guide and strong Salvation!
Our prayers and penance and fasting
And manifold agonies
Are writ in the book everlasting,
And lovely in His eyes!
206

Pilgrims, footsore and sick
To the New Jerusalem:
Our brows all streaming red with the prick
Of the thorny diadem.
Our bones lie scattered before the pit,
White as a forester's chips,
For a deadly wine and blood with it
Hast thou held, O Lord, to thy servant's lips!
Stretch forth thy hand, thou Righter
Of them that suffer the wrong!
Up, Lord, and smite the smiter!
Avenge us! The time is long.
Bind their nobles in fetters,
And scourge their kings with steel!
Write on their walls the letters
Of the wrath they are doomed to feel!
207

Mene, mene, tekel upharsin!
Open thy gates, O king!
Up, Lord, avenge us! Drive with thy cars in!
Smite hip and thigh, that thy saints may sing!
Ichabod, Ichabod!—Never to rise again!
Godless Prelate and King!
Courage, ye saints of God! Lift up your eyes again!
Lift up your voice and sing!
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