Soldier of the Cross [POETRY]

Poem by Mirabeau Buonaparte Lamar
Inscribed to the Pioneer Preacher of Texas.

NAY — tell me not of dangers dire
That lie in duty’s path;
A Warrior of the Cross can feel
No fear of human wrath.
Where’er the Prince of Darkness holds
His earthly reign abhorred,
Sword of the Spirit! thee I draw,
And battle for the Lord.

I go, I go to break the chains
That bind the erring mind,
And give the freedom that I feel,
To all of human kind;
But oh, I wear no burnished steel,
And seek no gory field;
My weapon is the Word of God,
His promise is my shield.
And thus equipped, why need I fear,
Though hosts around me rise? --
There is a power in gospel truth

No heathen can despise;
And he who boldly fights with that,
Will through more perils wade
Than the vain warrior, trusting to
His bright Damascus blade.
No blasts by land or sea can shake
The purpose of my soul;
The tempest of a thousand winds
May sweep from pole to pole,
Yet still serene, and fixed in faith,
All fear of death I scorn --
I know it is my Father’s work --
He’s with me in the storm.

Then let me go where duty calls,
Where God himself commands --
Bearing the banner of his Son
To dark and distant lands;
And if the high and holy cause
Require my early fall,
A recreant he who would not die
For Him who died for all.

This poem and accompanying commentary appear in ​ The Land They Loved: Volume I, Southern Poets And Poems, 1606 -1860, of the series available from Shotwell Publishing.