Honored they who firmly stand,
While the conflict presses round;
God's own banner in their hand,
In his service faithful found.

What our foes? Each thought impure;
Passions fierce that tear the soul;
Every ill that we can cure;
Every crime we can control;

Every suffering which our hand
Can with soothing care assuage;
Every evil of our land,
Every error of our age.

On, then, to the glorious field!
He who dies his life shall save;
God himself shall be our shield,
He shall bless and crown the brave.