Press Forward

Press for­ward

press for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize;

While life’s bright morn

with ro­sy hue

Bedecks the flow­ers that bathed with dew

Salute thy wak­ing eyes

Press for­ward to the prize.

Forward

for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize.

Forward

for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize.

Press for­ward

press for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize;

When in the noon of life thy heart

From Heav’n’s high call­ing would de­part

And doubts and fears arise

Press for­ward to the prize.

Press for­ward

press for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize;

When morn and noon of life are past

And ev­en­ing sha­dows length­en fast

And swift the day­light flies

Press for­ward to the prize.

Press for­ward

press for­ward

Press for­ward to the prize;

Though sweet the songs we sing be­low

A rich­er prize will Heav’n be­stow

And there our trea­sure lies

Press for­ward to the prize.