1 Flung to the heedless winds, Or on the waters cast, Their ashes shall be watched, And gathered at the last; And from that scattered dust, Around us and abroad, Shall spring a plenteous seed Of witnesses for God.
2 The Father hath received Their latest living breath; Yet vain is Satan's boast Of victory in their death; Still, still, though dead, they speak, And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim To many a wakening land The one prevailing name.