There’s a strife we all must wage,
From life’s entrance to its close;
Blest the bold who dare engage!
Woe for him who seeks repose!
Honored they who firmly stand,
While the conflict presses round;
God’s own banner in their hand,
In his service faithful found.
What our foes? Each thought impure
Passions fierce, that tear the soul;
Every ill that we can cure;
Every crime we can control;
Every suffering which our hand
Can with soothing care assuage;
Every evil of our land;
Every error of our age.
On, then, to the glorious field!
He who dies his life shall save;
God himself shall be our shield,
He shall bless and crown the brave.