My soul, be on thy guard;
ten thousand foes arise;
the hosts of sin are pressing hard
to draw thee from the skies.
O watch, and fight, and pray;
the battle ne'er give o'er;
renew it boldly every day,
and help divine implore.
Ne'er think the vict'ry won,
nor once at ease sit down;
the arduous work will not be done
till thou hast got the crown.
Fight on, my soul, till death
shall bring thee to my God;
He'll take thee, at thy parting breath,
up to His rest above.