O Lord our ban­ner, God of might,
Who wast with Jo­shua in the fight,
And Mo­ses on the hill,
Be with Thy ser­vants far away,
Their shield by night, their guide by day,
To suc­cor them from ill.

For hus­band, bro­ther, son, and sire,
We raise up hands that ne­ver tire
On this our mount of pray­er;
Thou know­est, we but dim­ly guess,
That day’s long toil, the night’s dis­tress,
And all they do and bear.

The bat­tle’s is­sue hangs on Thee;
In Thy firm hand the scales we see
Of mor­tal loss and gain:
And tid­ings car­ried swift as thought
’Twixt land and land to Thee are naught
But Thine own will made plain.

Giver of strength, O bless and aid
Thy ser­vants ’gainst the foe ar­rayed;
Go forth with them to fight!
In bat­tle’s storm their shel­ter be;
Thy Spi­rit grant, of un­ity,
Of coun­sel, and of might.

Watch o’er the wound­ed in the field,
And, where the sick and dy­ing yield
Their souls, do Thou be nigh!
Give peace with­in the heart dis­tressed,
And peace on earth, and, last and best,
Thy peace be­yond the sky.