J. Montgomery


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 the march, and guides from far

His servants to the fight.


A holy war those servants wage;

In that mysterious strife,

The powers of Heaven and hell engage

For more than death or life.


Ye armies of the living God,

Sworn warriors of Christ’s host,

Where hallowed footsteps never trod,

Take your appointed post.


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 spoils at His victorious feet

You shall rejoice to lay,

And lay yourselves as trophies meet,

In His great judgement day.


Then fear not, faint not, halt not now:

In Jesus’ Name be strong!

To Him shall all the nations bow,

And sing the triumph song.


Uplifted are the gates of brass,

The bars of iron yield;

Behold the King of Glory pass;

The Cross hath won the field.


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