1 Drest uniform the soldiers are,
When duty calls abroad;
Not purchased by their cost or care,
But by their prince bestow'd.
2 Christ's soldiers too if Christ like bred,
Have a regimental dress;
'Tis linen white and faced with red,
'Tis Christ's own righteousness.
3 A rich and precious robe it is,
Unto the soldier dear;
No rose can learn to blush like this,
Nor lilly looks so fair.
4 It is one piece and wove throughout,
So curiously that none;
Can dress them in a seamless coat,
Till Jesus puts it on.
5 'Tis wrought by Jesus skilfull hand,
'Tis ting'd in his own blood;
It makes the cherubs gazing stand;
To view this robe of God.
6 No art of man can weave this robe,
'Tis of such texture fine;
Nor could the wealth of all the globe,
By purchase make it mine.
7 This vesture never waxeth old,
No spot thereon can fall;
It makes the solder brisk and bold,
And dutiful withall.
8 This robe put on me Lord each day,
And it shall hide my shame;
Shall make me fight and sing and pray,
And bless my Captain's name.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Drest uniform the soldiers are |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1801 |