1 Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follow'r of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause,
Or blush to speak His name?
Must I be carried to the skies
On flow'ry beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed thro' bloody seas?

2 Are there no foes to me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?
Sure I must fight if I would reign:
Increase my courage, Lord;
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.

3 Thy saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer, tho' they die;
They see the triumph from afar
By faith's discerning eye.
When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thine armies shine
In robes of vict'ry thro' the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.