Surrounded by unnumbered foes

1 Surrounded by unnumbered foes,
Against my soul the battle goes;
Yet though I weary, sore distrest,
I know that I shall reach my rest:
I lift my tearful eyes above,--
His banner over me is love.

2 Its sword my spirit will not yield,
Though flesh may faint upon the field;
He waves before my fading sight
The branch of palm, the crown of light:
I lift my brightening eyes above,--
His banner over me is love.

3 My cloud of battle-dust may dim,
His veil of splendor curtain Him;
And in the midnight of my fear
I may not feel Him standing near:
But as I lift mine eyes above,
His banner over me is love.

Amen.

The Hymnal: Published by the authority of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1895