Verse 1
Flung to the heedless winds
Or on the waters cast
The martyr’s ashes, watched
Shall gather in at last
And from that scattered dust
Around us and abroad
Shall spring a plenteous seed
Of witnesses for God
Verse 2
The Father hath received
Their latest living breath
And 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 availing name