1 The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar:
Who follows in His train?

2 Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;
Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in His train.

3 The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
And called on Him to save.

4 Like Him, with pardon on His tongue
In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them that did the wrong:
Who follows in His train?

5 A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came:
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.

6 They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
The lion's gory mane;
They bowed their necks the death to feel:
Who follows in their train?

7 A noble army: men and boys,
The matron and the maid;
Around the Saviour's throne rejoice,
In robes of light arrayed.

8 They climbed the steep ascent of heaven
Through peril, toil, and pain:
O God, to us may grace be given
To follow in their train.

Amen.