Lift High the Cross

Come, brethren, follow where our Captain trod,
our King victorious, Christ the Son of God.

Led on their way by this triumphant sign,
The hosts of God in conquering ranks combine.

Each newborn servant of the Crucified
Bears on the brow the seal of Him Who died.

This is the sign which Satan's legions fear
and angels veil their faces to revere.

Saved by this Cross whereon their Lord was slain,
the sons of Adam their lost home regain.

From north and south, from east and west they raise
in growing unison their songs of praise.

O Lord, once lifted on the glorious tree,
as thou hast promised, draw the world to thee.

So shall our song of triumph ever be:
Praise to the Crucified for victory.

Let every race and every language tell
of him who saves our souls from death and hell.

From farthest regions let their homage bring,
and on his Cross adore their Savior King.

Set up thy throne, that earth's despair may cease
beneath the shadow of its healing peace.

For thy blest Cross which doth for all atone
creation's praises rise before thy throne.