The Doorkeepers of Zion,
    They do not always stand
 In helmet and whole armour,
    With halberds in their hand;
 But, being sure of Zion,
    And all her mysteries,
 They rest awhile in Zion,
 Sit down and smile in Zion;
 Ay, even jest in Zion;
    In Zion, at their ease. 

The Gatekeepers of Baal,
    They dare not sit or lean,
 But fume and fret and posture
    And foam and curse between;
 For being bound to Baal,
    Whose sacrifice is vain,
 Their rest is scant with Baal,
 They glare and pant for Baal,
 They mouth and rant for Baal,
    For Baal in their pain! 

But we will go to Zion,
    By choice and not through dread,
 With these our present comrades
    And those our present dead;
 And, being free of Zion
    In both her fellowships,
 Sit down and sup in Zion—
Stand up and drink in Zion
 Whatever cup in Zion
     Is offered to our lips!