Look ye, bro­thers, time is roll­ing,
Rolling ra­pid­ly away;
Vesper bells will soon be toil­ing,
Toiling for the dy­ing day;
Rouse thee, com­rades, nerve for la­bor,
In life’s bat­tle, dare and do!
Boldly wield truth’s gleam­ing sa­ber,
Vanquish wrong and right pur­sue.

Refrain

Hark! the bu­gle sounds the ral­ly,
Gird you, com­rades, for the fight;
Hark! the bu­gle sounds the ral­ly,
Gird you for the fight.

Plant your stan­dard firm and fear­less,
On the ci­ta­del of might;
Hard may seem the task and cheer­less,
But the pro­mised crown is bright;
Poor your­self, you have for oth­ers
Wealth you may not, must not, keep:
Words of cheer for droop­ing bro­thers,
Tears to shed with those who weep.

Refrain

Smiles to cheer the lone one’s la­bor,
Toiling o’er life’s wea­ry way,
Bread to share with poor­er neigh­bors,
Hungering, starv­ing ev­ery day;
Go to hearts that pine and per­ish,
Wipe the flow­ing tears away;
Every smitt­en spi­rit nour­ish,
Drooping sad­ly by the way.

Refrain

Carry glad­ness to the sigh­ing,
Give your strength to bear the lame,
Whisper com­fort to the dy­ing,
Whisper soft­ly Je­sus’ name;
Up some hill or down some val­ley,
Seek the lost to guide aright,
Hark! the bu­gle sounds the ral­ly,
Gird you, com­rades, for the fight.

Refrain