Who sees, as he looks to the kindling sky,
God and his captain, the Saviour, nigh;
Who sees the mighty recompense,
When soul is conquering flesh and sense;
Sees heaven and all its angels bright,
At the very end of his mortal fight,
At the black close of that agony
Which sets the impatient spirit free;
Then, as in Christ he sinks to sleep,
Weep for the Dying Martyr, weep.