There is triumph in heaven;
A lost one is found!
He hears the sweet voices
Float nearer around:
"A mortal who listens,
And seeks for his brow,
Of religion and virtue,
The sacred halo;
"Attend him, befriend him,
Revive and assist;
Away from his spirit
The poison and mist;
The snares from his feet,
And the scales from his eyes,
And waft, through his bosom,
A breath from the skies.
"Rejoice! we have saved him,
He listens our voice,
He knows us—obeys us;
For ever rejoice!
Already around him
A blessing we throw,
Earth's happiest worshippers
Never can know.
"Wherever he roveth,
Whatever betide,
We will answer his calling,
Will walk by his side.
If sickness assail him,
A cup shall be given,
His torments to soften,
Of patience from heaven.
"If duty conduct him
To ruin's dark brink,
His eyes shall not waver,
His nerves shall not shrink.
If passion assault him,
His soul shall be strong;
He shall pass mid temptation
Untainted along.
"Let him fear—for his way
He hath chosen aright—
Nor the arrow by day,
Nor the terror by night.
Though the earth reel around him,
His spirit shall be,
Like a rock that back dasheth
The foam of the sea."