My soul, be on thy guard:
Ten thousand foes arise,
The host of sin are pressing hard,
To draw thee from the skies.

O watch and fight and pray,
The battle ne’er give o’er.
Renew it boldly ev’ry day;
And help divine implore.

Ne’er think the vict’ry won,
Nor lay thy armor down;
Thy ard’ous work will not be done,
Till thou obtain thy crown.

Recordings none