Angels your march op­pose,
Who still in strength ex­cel,
Your sec­ret, sworn, eter­nal foes,
Countless, in­vi­si­ble.
With rage that ne­ver ends
Their hell­ish arts they try;
Legions of dire ma­li­cious fiends,
And spir­its en­throned on high.

On earth the usurp­ers reign,
Exert their bane­ful pow­er,
O’er the poor fall­en sons of men
They ty­ran­nize their hour:
But shall be­liev­ers fear?
But shall be­liev­ers fly?
Or see the bloody cross ap­pear,
And all their pow­er de­fy?

Jesus’ tre­men­dous name
Puts all our foes to flight:
Jesus, the meek, the ang­ry Lamb,
A li­on is in fight.
By all hell’s host with­stood,
We all hell’s host o’er­throw;
And con­quer­ing them, through Je­sus’ blood,
We still to con­quer go.

Our cap­tain leads us on;
He beck­ons from the skies,
And reach­es out a star­ry crown,
And bids us take the prize:
Be faith­ful un­to death;
Partake My vic­to­ry;
And thou shalt wear this glo­ri­ous wreath.
And thou shalt reign with Me.