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I (Bass drum beaten loudly) BOOTH led boldly with his big bass drum— |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.” |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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Walking lepers followed, rank on rank, |
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Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank, |
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Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale— |
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Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:— |
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Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath, |
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Unwashed legions with the ways of Death— |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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(Banjos) Every slum had sent its half-a-score |
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The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.) |
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Every banner that the wide world flies |
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Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes. |
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Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang, |
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Tranced, fanatical, they shrieked and sang:— |
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“Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?” |
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Hallelujah! It was queer to see |
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Bull-necked convicts with that land make free. |
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Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare, |
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On, on upward thro’ the golden air! |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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II (Bass drum slower and softer) Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod, |
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Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God. |
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Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief, |
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Eagle countenance in sharp relief, |
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Beard a-flying, air of high command |
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Unabated in that holy land. |
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(Sweet flute music) Jesus came from out the court-house door, |
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Stretched his hands above the passing poor. |
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Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there |
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Round and round the mighty court-house square. |
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Yet in an instant all that blear review |
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Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new. |
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The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled |
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And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world. |
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(Bass drum louder) Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole! |
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Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl! |
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Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean, |
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Rulers of empires and of forests green! |
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(Grand chorus of all instruments. Tambourines to the foreground) The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire! |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir |
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(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) |
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O, shout Salvation! It was good to see |
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Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free. |
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The banjos rattled and the tambourines |
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Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens. |
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(Reverently sung, no instruments) And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer |
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He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air. |
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Christ came gently with a robe and crown |
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For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down. |
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He saw King Jesus. They were face to face, |
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And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place. |
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Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb? |