While on the verge of life I stand,
And view the scene on either hand,
My spirit struggles with my clay,
And longs to wing its flight away.

Where Jesus dwells my soul would be,
And faints my much loved Lord to see:
Earth, twine no more about my heart,
For ’tis far better to depart.

Come, ye angelic envoys, come,
And lead the willing pilgrim home!
Ye know the way to Jesus’ throne—
Source of my joys and of your own.

That blissful interview, how sweet,
To fall transported at His feet:
Raised in His arms to view His face,
Thro’ the full beamings of His grace.

The call to arms is sounding,
The foemen muster strong;
While saints beneath the altar
Are crying, “Lord, how long?”
The living and the loving
Christ’s royal standard raise,
And marching on to conflict
Shout forth their Captain’s praise.

No time for self-indulgence,
For resting by the way;
Repose will come at even,
But toil is for the day;
Work, like the blessèd Jesus,
Who from His earliest youth
Would do His Father’s business
And witness for the truth.

For the one Faith, the true Faith,
The Faith which cannot fail,
For the one Church, the true Church,
’Gainst which no foes prevail;
Made one with God incarnate,
We in His might must win
The glory of self-conquest,
Of victory over sin.

Behold! upon Mount Sion
A glorious people stand,
A crown on every forehead,
A palm in every hand;
Lo! these are they who boldly
The Name of Christ confessed,
And now triumphant praise Him
In Heav’n’s unresting rest.

O Jesu! Who art waiting
Thy faithful ones to crown,
Vouchsafe to bless our conflict,
Our loving service own;
Come in each heart forever
As King adored to reign,
Till we with saints triumphant
Uplift the victor strain.

We are soldiers of Christ, who is mighty to save,
And His banner the Cross is unfurled;
We are pledged to be faithful and steadfast and brave
Against Satan, the flesh, and the world.

We are brothers and comrades, we stand side by side,
And our faith and our hope are the same;
And we think of the Cross on which Jesus has died,
When we bear the reproach of His Name.

At the font we were marked with the Cross on our brow,
Of our grace and our calling the sign;
And the weakest is strong to be true to his vow,
For the armor we wear is divine.

We will watch ready armed if the Tempter draw near,
If he comes with a frown or a smile;
We will heed not his threats, nor his flatteries hear,
Nor be taken by storm or by wile.

We will master the flesh, and its longings restrain,
We will not be the bond slaves of sin,
The pure Spirit of God in our nature shall reign,
And our spirits their freedom shall win.

For the world’s love we live not, its hate we defy,
And we will not be led by the throng;
We’ll be true to ourselves, to our Father on high,
And the bright world to which we belong.

Now let each cheer his comrade, let hearts beat as one,
While we follow where Christ leads the way;
’Twere dishonor to yield, or the battle to shun,
We will fight, and will watch, and will pray.

Though the warfare be weary, the trial be sore,
In the might of our God we will stand;
Oh! what joy to be crowned and be pure evermore,
In the peace of our own Fatherland.