1 Great Lead­er of Thine Is­ra­el’s host,
We shout Thy con­quer­ing name;
Legions of foes be­set Thee round,
And le­gions fled with shame.

2 A vic­to­ry glo­ri­ous and com­plete
Thou by Thy death didst gain;
So in Thy cause may we con­tend,
And death it­self sus­tain.

3 By our il­lus­tri­ous gen­er­al sired,
We no ex­tremes would fear;
Prepared to strug­gle and to bleed,
If Thou, our Lord, be near.

4 We’ll trace the foot­steps Thou hast drawn
To tri­umph and re­nown;
Nor shun Thy com­bat and Thy cross,
May we but share Thy crown.