No salvation for the mansion[1]
Where the Cross in meet expansion
On the door-post stood not graved:
Where it stood, the midnight blast
Of the avenging Angel passed,
And the first-born child was saved.
Wood the widow's[2] hands collected,
When salvation unexpected
Came, the Prophet's mystic boon:
Where the wood of faith is wanted,
There the Spirit's oil is scanted,
And the meal is wasted soon.
Rome beheld each shattered vessel[3]
And Maxentius vainly wrestle
In the stream against its might:
This procured the bright ovation
O'er the Persian and the Thracian
When Heraclius won the fight.
Types of old in Scripture hidden
Setting forth the Cross, are bidden,
In these days, to fuller light;
Kings[4] are flying, foes are dying,
On the Cross of Christ relying
One a thousand puts to flight.
