Rise, ye child­ren of sal­va­tion,
All who cleave to Christ the head;
Wake, awake, O migh­ty na­tion,
Ere the foe on Zi­on tread;
He draws nigh, and would de­fy
All the hosts of God most high.

Saints and mar­tyrs long be­fore us
Firmly on this ground have stood;
See their ban­ner wav­ing o’er us,
Conquerors through the Sav­ior’s blood.
Ground we hold, where­on of old,
Fought the faith­ful and the bold.

Fighting, we shall be vic­to­ri­ous
By the blood of Christ our Lord;
On our fore­heads, bright and glo­ri­ous,
Shines the wit­ness of His Word;
Spear and shield on bat­tle­field,
His great name; we can­not yield.

When His ser­vants stand be­fore Him
Each re­ceiv­ing his re­ward,
When His saints in light ad­ore Him,
Giving glo­ry to the Lord;
Victory! our song shall be
Like the thun­der of the sea.