Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, the vic­to­ry won,
Enter thy master’s joy.
The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear;
A mortal arrow pierced his frame:
He fell, but felt no fear.

Tranquil amid alarms,
It found him on the field,
A veteran, slumbering on his arms,
Beneath his red-cross shield.
His sword was in his hand,
Still warm with recent fight,
Ready that moment, at command,
Through rock and steel to smite.

It was a two-edged blade
Of heav’nly temper keen;
And double were the wounds it made,
Where’er it glanced between.
’Twas death to sin—’twas life
To all who mourned for sin;
It kindled and silenced strife,
Made war and peace within.

Oft with its fiery force
His arm had quelled the foe,
And laid, resistless in his course,
The alien armies low.
Bent on such glo­ri­ous toils,
The world to him was loss,
Yet all his trophies, all his spoils,
He hung upon the cross.

At midnight came the cry,
To meet thy God prepare!
He woke, and caught his captain’s eye;
Then, strong in faith and prayer,
His spirit, with a bound,
Left its encumbering clay;
His tent, at sunrise, on the round,
A darkened ruined lay.

The pains of death are past,
Labor and sorrow cease;
And, life’s long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ, well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eter­nal ages run,
Rest in thy Sav­ior’s joy.