Poems (Kimball)/A Battle-Cry

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

A BATTLE-CRY.

O HOLY Cross whose sign in air
 Can put to flight our ghostly foes;
O holy Name, but breathed in prayer
 And hell is powerless to oppose;
However fierce may be the strife,
 Immortal gain our mortal loss;
By you we win Eternal Life,
 O holy Name, O holy Cross!

And what are these our sharpest wounds?
 Thy wounds, O Lord, their balm supply;
Our woes Thy woe unmeasured drowns,
 And Thine shall be our victory!
O priceless faith that dares the strife!
 O deathless hope that spurns the loss!
By you we win Eternal Life,
 O holy Name, O holy Cross!