He held the pitcher, stooping low,
To the lips of little ones below;
Then raised it to the weary,
And bade him drink when sick and faint.
They drank – the pitcher thus between –
The hand that held it scarce was seen.

He blew the trumpet soft and clear,
To call the waiting soldiers near,
And then with louder note and bold,
To raze the walls of Satan's hold!
The trumpet coming thus between –
The hand that held it scarce was seen.

But when the Captain says, Well done,
Thou good and faithful servant – come,
Lay down the pitcher and the lamp,
Lay down the trumpet – leave the camp,
The weary hands will then be seen,
Clasped in those pierced ones – nought between,

Marvin Lewis