We entered in poor worn soldiers,
We came out bolder knights,
To march on to the Prince's battle,
And war for His glorious rights,
For had we not each re-taken
The oath of allegiance high,
And sworn round the Royal Standard
To conquer, or to die.
Song of Azael.
I heard the voice of the Death Angel speak,
As slowly he pass'd me by,
And I saw him throw snow on the crimson cheek,
And darken the laughing eye.
I saw him glide down through many a street;
Tears followed him like spring rain;
And yet ever unheeding tears or prayers,
He mattered his wild wild refrain,
"Come away with me, sweet baby so bright,
I love the young flowers of the rosebud's hue,
What? mother would keep thee always in sight,
And see the sad tears in those eyes so blue.
Come with me, little one.
All thorns and crosses for you are done,
Mother will meet thee where all is fair,
Grown to the height of the angels there.
Quiet and deep,
Be now thy sleep,
Baby, so white.
For thou shalt travel where sorrow and strife
Never shall darken thy pathway again.
Azael must take home to the Lord of Life
The darlings He bought on the cross with pain.
Ah! you smile, little one.
Pleasure and glory for you are won,
Near to the angels, you're not afraid
Of going with me far into the shade.
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