When We Know With Souls Grown

When we know, with souls grown weary,
After battle rest is sweet,
And we, trusting, lay our burden
At the Master’s nail-pierced feet,-
When light floods the pathway hidden,
Shall we say, with spirit free,
“I have fought as thou hast bidden,-
Lord, thine the victory?”

Not our own, the victor’s glory,
Tho’ the battle fierce may be;
Not our own, defeat’s sad story,-
Our fight-his victory.

Not our own the joy triumphant
Of the darkness brought to light,
Nor the glory of the banner
held aloft thro’out the fight;
Not our own, for he who shareth
All the battle’s brunt with thee,
High our vanguard standard beareth,
And leads to victory. [Chorus]

Yea, tho’ darkness on thy warfare
Creeps behind life’s setting sun,
And tho’ brave thy fight and faithful,
Still the battle is not won.
Fear not ‘mid the shades of even,-
“Fight!” the word he gave to thee,-
Will not he who reigns in heaven
Guard his own victory? [Chorus]