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

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

Ne’er think the victory won,
Nor lay thine armor down:
Thy arduous work will not be done
Till thou obtain thy crown.

Fight on, my soul, till death
Shall bring thee to thy God;
He’ll take thee, at thy parting breath,
To His divine abode.