1 It was midnight in the valley, and the camp was dark and still,
Where the slumb’ring host of Midian lay along the sloping hill,
When a blinding flash of torches, and a trumpet loud and shrill,
Threw out the battle cry:

Chorus:
Blow ye the trumpet, for the Lord hath made us free;
Your blazing lamps raise high!
"The Sword of the Lord and of Gideon," shall be
Our conqu’ring Battle Cry.

2 Where the faint and fearful thousands had returned at God’s command,
By the chosen few and faithful, vict’ry came to Gideon’s band;
Hear them giving God the glory, and around the camp they stand
And shout their Battle Cry: [Chorus]

3 Christian soldiers, be not fearful; onward with your Captain go;
Ever "looking unto Jesus." you shall conquer ev’ry foe;
He hath triumph'd--take your trumpets, let the world your vict’ry know;
Sing loud your Battle Cry: [Chorus]