A temple God told them to build
With blood and stone God’s house was made.
Eternal blessings they had willed
To turn the hearts of men they prayed.
Joy and peace would not last long
The temple soon was broke and burned.
Driven from their homes, they’re strong
For God, from them, will not be turned.
On frozen ground the saints traversed
Leaving blood on snow to follow.
Their foes would laugh, and they cursed
Soon their deeds would all be hollow.
Crossed the plains in hand-drawn carts
Many found their God this way.
Their sacrifice to us imparts
To live worthy every day.
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