A glorious band, the chosen few, On whom the spirit came; Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew, And mocked the cross and flame. They met the tyrant's brandished steel, They bowed their necks the death to feel! A noble army-men and boys, The matron and the maid, They climbed the steep ascent of Heaven, O God! to us may grace be given THE END. casting casting a bat init the seas; for they of Gullive saith unto them "Follow me. & Turda As near its wave less p With thought as cabin as the Jundeli And how the low hest couch beside, Han specter of heavenly The bore through posits for & neck His Suviones holy name: not to hope or for Jo indolence or shomes. That Savions's presence cheeses his breast That frith his dying horn compared Desene. Lord ! while the holy servants los- Which bore him ste |