Singing the Songs of Zion
Mark D. Rhoads
"Every night the holy songs of Zion go up on this balmy spring air, a sweet incense, I think,
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A charge to keep I have
| When I can read my title clear |
To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
| Let cares, like a wild deluge come, |
And storms of sorrow fall!
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n, my All.
There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll,
Across my peaceful breast.
| " I never felt so much the loss of any earthly blessing. By and by night fell, and the stars shone out clear and beautiful above the dark field, and I began to think of that great God who had given his Son to die a death of agony for me, and that he was up there — up above the scene of suffering, and I above those glorious stars; and I felt that I was going home to meet him, and praise him there; and I felt that I ought to praise God, even wounded and on the battle-field. I could not help singing that beautiful hymn: |
“When I can read my title clear
". . . there was a Christian brother in the brush near me. I could not see him, but I could hear him. He took up the strain, and beyond him another and another caught it up, all over the terrible battle-field of Shiloh. That night the echo was resounding, and we made the field of battle ring with the hymns of praise to God." (Moore, Frank. The Civil War in Song and Story 1860-1865. New York: P. F. Collier, 1889, p. 254)