Unless our Souls win back to Thee,
We shall have lost this fight.
Yes, though we win on field and sea,
Though mightier still our might may be,
We still shall lose if we win not Thee.
Help us to climb, as in Thy sight,
The Great High Way of Thy Delight.

It is the world-old strife again,—
The fight 'twixt good and ill.
Since first the curse broke out in Cain,
Each age has worn the grim red chain,
And ill fought good for sake of gain.
Help us, through all life's conflict, still
To battle upwards to Thy Will.

Are we to be like all the rest,
Or climb we loftier height?
Can we our wayward steps arrest?—
All life with nobler life invest?—
And so fulfil our Lord's behest?
Help us, through all the world's dark night,
To struggle upwards to the Light.

If not,—we too shall pass, as passed
The older peoples in their time.
God's pact is sure, His word stands fast,—
Those who His sovereignty outcast
Outcast themselves shall be at last.
So,—lest we pass in this our prime,
Lord, set us to the upward climb!