让风随意散播，
或在水面撒落，
看，殉道者的骨灰，
最后必再收聚；
在我们近周或远方，
从分散的尘土，
必发生许多的种子
见证荣耀上主。
父神已经收取
他们末后生命的气息；
撒但徒然夸口
他们死亡是它的胜利；
虽然死了，却仍然，仍然说话，
他们号角的舌头宣告
那唯一有能力的尊名
向广阔苏醒的大地。
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Flung to the heedless winds,
Or on the waters cast,
The martyrs' ashes, watched,
Shall gathered be at last;
And from that scattered dust,
Around us and abroad,
Shall spring a plenteous seed
Of witnesses for God.
The Father hath received
Their latest living breath;
And vain is Satan's boast
Of victory in their death;
Still, still, though dead, they speak,
And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim
To many a wakening land
The one availing name.
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