Classic Poem

The Lord has drawn his mighty sword,
And spread his banners brave;
They shine upon the mountain top
And gleam upon the wave;
From pole to pole and shore to shore
He goes his royal way
Till ev'ry tribe and ev'ry tongue
Shall own his Kingly sway.
Nor short his arm, nor slack his will,
To work his purpose high;
Tho' earth itself should quail and quake,
And stars forsake the sky;
The chains of sin his arm shall break
And set the pris'ners free,
And death itself deliver up
The dead of land and sea.
The young and old, the rich and poor,
The lowly and the great,
Shall march beyond the Jasper walls,
And in the pearly gate;
Then heard the everlasting song,
And laid the armor down,
And Christ our Lord as King of kings,
Shall wear the royal crown.

But we who now his banners bear,
By and by a crown shall wear;
By and by, yes, by and by,
By and by a crown shall wear.
By and by, by and by, by and by.