Once, Gi­de­on at God’s com­mand
Took from his ar­my great and grand
A chos­en few, a lit­tle band
Of just three hun­dred;
The rank and file, to their dis­may,
Were then dis­charged and sent away,
But with the few he won the day,
With those three hun­dred.

Refrain

The brave three hun­dred,
The Lord’s three hun­dred;
O help us, Lord, to num­bered be
With Thy three hun­dred.

Today we see church build­ings stand
In ev­ery ci­ty of our land,
But in each fight God has a band,
His own three hun­dred;
Thro’ rain or shine, thro’ dark or light,
These sold­iers stand up for the right,
And al­ways win, tho’ fierce the fight,
God’s own three hun­dred.

Refrain

Oh, help us, Lord, to watch and pray,
That we at last may hear Thee say,
Well done, ye no­bly won the day,
My own three hun­dred;
Then, when there are no foes to fight,
In that blest land where comes no night,
O may we walk with Thee in white,
Thy saved three hun­dred.

Refrain