An end­less line of splen­dor,
These troops with Heav’n for home,
With creeds they go from Scot­land,
With in­cense go from Rome.
These, in the name of Je­sus,
Against the dark gods stand,
They gird the earth with va­lor,
They heed their king’s com­mand.

Onward the line ad­vanc­es,
Shaking the hills with pow­er,
Slaying the hid­den de­mons,
The li­ons that de­vour.
No blood­shed in the wrest­ling—
But souls new born arise—
The na­tions grow­ing kind­er,
The child-hearts grow­ing wise.

What is the fi­nal end­ing?
The is­sue, can we know?
Will Christ out­live Mo­ham­med?
Will Ka­li’s al­tar go?
This is our faith tre­men­dous—
Our wild hope, who shall scorn—
That in the name of Je­sus
The world shall be re­born!