411 The Trumpeters
Hark! listen to the trumpeters! They sound for volunteers! On Zion's bright and flow'ry mount Behold the officers: Their horses white, their garments bright, With crown and bow they stand, Enlisting soldiers for their King, To march for Canaan's land. It sets my heart all in a flame; A soldier I will be; I will enlist, gird on my arms, And fight for liberty. They want no cowards in their band, (They will their colors fly,) But call for valiant-hearted men, Who're not afraid to die. The armies now are in parade, How martial they appear! All arm'd and dress'd in uniform They look like men of war: They follow their great General, The great eternal Lamb, His garments stain'd with His own blood, King Jesus is His name. The trumpet sounds, the armies shout, And drive the hosts of hell; How dreadful is our God in arms! The great Immanuel! Sinners, enlist with Jesus Christ, Th'eternal Son of God, And march with us to Canaan's land, Beyond the swelling flood. |