1 O, speed thee, Christian, on thy way!
And to thine armor cling;
With girded loins the call obey
That love and mercy bring!

2 There is a battle to be fought,
An upward race to run,
A crown of glory to be sought,
A victory to be won.

3 O, faint not, Christian! for thy sighs
Are heard before God's throne;
The race must come before the prize,
The cross before the crown.