1 God, to thee we humbly bow,
Hand unarmed and naked brow;
Musket, lance, and sheathed sword
At thy feet we lay, O Lord!
Gone is all the soldier's boast
In the valor of the host:
Kneeling here, we do our most.

2 Of ourselves we nothing know:
Thou and thou alone canst show,
By the favor of thy hand,
Who hast drawn the guilty brand.
If our foemen have the right,
Show thy judgments in our sight,
Through the fortunes of the fight.

3 Now, O God, once more we rise,
Marching on beneath thy eyes;
And we draw the sacred sword
In thy name and at thy word.
May our spirits clearly see
Thee through all that is to be,
In defeat or victory.