Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Gates of Brass

Lift up your heads

ye gates of brass!

Ye bars of ir­on! yield;

And let the King of Glo­ry pass—

The cross is in the field.

That ban­ner

bright­er than the star

That leads the train of night

Shines on their march

and guides from far

His serv­ants to the fight.

A ho­ly war those serv­ants wage;

Mysteriously at strife;

The pow­ers of Heav’n and hell en­gage

For more than death or life.

Earth’s rank­est soil they see out­spread;

So thronged

it seems with­in

One ci­ty of the livi­ng dead

Dead while alive to sin.

The forms of life are ev­ery­where

The spi­rit no­where found;

Like va­pors kind­ling in the air

Then sink­ing in the ground.

No hope have these above the dust

No be­ing but a breath;

In van­ity and lies they trust

Their ve­ry life is death.

Ye ar­mies of the liv­ing God

His sac­ra­ment­al host!

Where hal­lowed foot­step nev­er trod

Take your ap­point­ed post.

Follow the Cross

the ark of peace

Accompany your path

To slaves and re­bels bring re­lease

From bond­age and from wrath.

A bar­ley-cake o’er­threw the camp

Of Mi­di­an

tent by tent

Ere morn the trum­pet and the lamp

Through all in tri­umph went.

Though Chi­na’s sons like Mi­di­an’s fill

As grass­hop­pers the vale

The sword of God and Gi­de­on still

To con­quer can­not fail.

As Je­ri­cho be­fore the blast

Of sound­ing rams’ horns fell

Sin’s strong­holds here shall be down cast

Down cast these gates of hell.

Truth er­ror’s le­gions must o’er­whelm

And Chi­na’s thick­est wall

(The wall of dark­ness round her realm

)

At your loud sum­mons fall.

Though few and small and weak your bands

Strong in your cap­tain’s strength

Go to the con­quest of all lands;

All must be His at length.

The clos­est sealed be­tween the poles

Is op­ened to your toils;

Where thrice a hun­dred mill­ion souls

Are of­fered you for spoils.

Those spoils

at His vic­tor­ious feet

You shall re­joice to lay

And lay your­selves

as tro­phies meet

In His great judg­ment day.

No car­nal wea­pons those ye bear

To lay the ali­ens low;

Then strike amain

and do not spare

There’s life in ev­ery blow.

Life! more than life on earth can be;

All in this con­flict slain

Die but to sin—eter­nal­ly

The crown of life to gain.

O fear not

faint not

halt not now;

Quit you like men

be strong;

To Christ shall Bud­dha’s vo­ta­ries bow

And sing with you this song:

Uplifted are the gates of brass

The bars of ir­on yield;

Behold the King of Glo­ry pass;

The cross hath won the field.