My brethren all, on you I call; arise and look around you;
How many foes bound to oppose are waiting to surround you;
The trumpet calls on Zion's walls; shake off your sleep and slumber;
Arise and pray; we'll win the day, tho we are few in number.
To God we'll cry, and hell defy, tho Satan roars like thunder;
The voice of prayer makes sinners stare while filled with awe and wonder.
While music sweet makes some retreat, our Jesus still draws nigher;
His precious name lights up the flame that sets our souls on fire.
While grace divine in others shines, with such we are delighted;
With them we crowd and sing so loud, poor sinners are affrighted.
The sweetest joys our pow'r employ, to see the cause advancing
Tho some go off and boldly scoff, and say that we are dancing.
Some mournfully for mercy cry, and stubborn hearts are bended;
If we but smile some say we're wild, and so go off offended.
If souls are born, we bear the scorn; - let sinners tell the story -
For Jesus' name we'll bear the blame, and give Him all the glory.
But as we fly, we'll always cry to God for their salvation,
O, God of love, send from above, and save the vicked nation:
Thy spirit send, their hearts to bend; arrest them by Thy thunder;
Let sweetest songs employ their tongues, while filled with joy and wonder.