March on, march on, ye sol­diers true
In the cross of Christ con­fid­ing,
For the field is set, and the hosts are met,
And the Lord His own is guid­ing;
Thro’ the earth’s wide round, we the tid­ings sound
Of the Lord who came from Heav­en;
Of the migh­ty hope that with death can cope,
And the love so free­ly given.

Refrain

March on, march on, ye sol­diers true,
In the cross of Christ con­fid­ing,
For the field is set, and the hosts are met,
And the Lord His own is guid­ing.

We march to fight with the pow’rs of night,
That hold the world in sor­row;
And the brok­en heart shall be healed of its smart,
And arise to a joy­ful mor­row;
O’er the realms of night shall our stand­ard bright
Arise, their dark­ness clear­ing;
And souls that were dead to the Lord who bled,
Shall re­vive at His glad ap­pear­ing.

Refrain

O so long is the fight, but the God of light
Is ev­er watch­ing near us;
And the pray­ers that rise to the list­en­ing skies
Like a song of hope shall cheer us;
Till the sun­rise broad of the day of God
Shall shine on the Vic­tor’s glo­ry;
And earth at rest, in her Lord con­fessed,
Shall re­joice in the fin­ished sto­ry.

Refrain