1 My soul, be on thy guard; Ten thousand foes arise; The hosts of sin are pressing hard To draw thee from the skies. 2 O, watch, and strive, and pray; The battle ne'er give o'er; Renew it boldly every day, And help divine implore. 3 Ne'er think the victory won, Nor lay thine armor down: Thy arduous work will not be done Till thou obtain thy crown. 4 Fight on, my soul, till death Shall bring thee to thy God; He'll take thee, at thy parting breath, To His divine abode.
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