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S.M.

1 Hark, how the watchmen cry,
Attend the trumpet's sound;
Stand to your arms, the foe is nigh,
The powers of hell surround:
Who bow to Christ's command,
Your arms and hearts prepare;
The day of battle is at hand,
Go forth to glorious war.

2 Only have faith in God;

In faith your foes assail;

Not wrestling against flesh and blood,

But all the powers of hell:

From thrones of glory driven,

By flaming vengeance hurled,

They throng the air, and darken heav'n,

And rule the lower world.

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