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

Oh, 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,
And lay thy armour down;
Thy arduous work will not be done,
Till thou obtain thy crown.

Recordings none