Ye servants of Jesus, to battle away,
The foe now awaits you in martial array:
Tho’ your forces may be small,
Ye shall conquer tho’ ye fall,
Ye are Christ’s own soldiers all,
Away, away.

Let mem’ries of martyrs, whose glories we’ll share,
Let love of our Lord, whose dear cross we will bear,
Be our glory and our shield,
As the sword of faith we wiled,
Then to doubt we ne’er shall yield,
On, on, fight on.

Then faint not at dangers, your Captain is near,
With His Spirit within, His presence will cheer;
With His eye He’ll safely guide,
‘Neath His shield He will thee never leave thy side,
On, on, pray on.