THE VICTORS UPON THE SEA OF GLASS.
By Vesta N. Cudworth
The pious Wesley said, “Snatch from the Devil his best tunes, and press them into God’s service.” The dreadful moment hastens, when God’s avenging arm,
Will judge the men that hate his law, and offered mercy scorn;
That dare to worship Antichrist, and bear his mark, alas!
They cannot be victorious, upon the sea of glass. A little remnant humble, will never yield, nor bow,
They hate “Catholicism,” and they love God’s holy law;
Most gladly will they suffer, but they will gain at last
A crown among the victors, upon the sea of glass. Forecasting shadows warn us of the nearness of the day,
“The time of Jacob’s trouble,” but it soon will pass away;
Then let the storm clouds gather, we need not fear the blast,
We’re going to stand as victors, upon the sea of glass. The Hebrew children were not harmed, while walking through the fire,
The furnace held the Son of God, this shall our hearts inspire;
Thus in God’s name we’ll trust, and nail our colors to the mast,
Or die, to be a victor upon the sea of glass.