These warriors, victorious,
These worshippers of Thine,
Whom Thou hast granted the will
To win power in Thy name;
Who cleave rivers and woods in twain,
Whose terror turns mountains into dust;
They care not for the world;
They care not for its pleasures;
In their passion, in their zeal,
In their love for Thee, O Lord,
They aim at martyrdom,
Not the rule of the earth.
Thou hast united warring tribes,
In thought, in deed, in prayer.
The burning fire that life had sought
For centuries, was found in them at last.
They think of death, not as life’s end,
But as the ennobling of the heart.
Awaken in them an iron will,
And make their eye a sharpened sword.