My soul, be on thy guard,
Ten thousand foes arise,
And hosts of sin are pressing hard
To draw thee from the skies.

Oh, watch, and fight, and pray,
The battle ne’er give o’er,
Renew it boldly every day,
And help divine implore.

Ne’er think the vict’ry won,
Nor once at ease sit down;
Thine arduous work will not be done
Till thou hast got the crown.

Fight on, my soul, till death
Shall bring thee to thy God;
He’ll take thee at thy parting breath
Up to His blest abode.