The Chariots of the Lord Are Strong

The cha­ri­ots of the Lord are strong

Their num­ber pass­eth ken;

Mount them and fight against the wrong

Ye who are val­iant men.

Where

un­ab­ashed

the pow­er of sin

Vaunts an un­hin­dered sway

Ride

in the strength of God

and win

Fresh laur­els in the fray.

For free­dom wield the sword of might

And cut the bands that bind;

Strike bold­ly in the cause of right

And still fresh laur­els find.

Where hands are weak

and hearts are faint

Through con­flict sharp and sore;

Where hearts that mur­mur no com­plaint

Shrink at the thought of more:

There let the pow­er of God be shown

To quell sa­tan­ic might;

To res­cue those who strive alone

Despondent in the fight.

Ride on

the cha­ri­ots of the Lord

Dispel the hosts of sin;

Ye who are val­iant

wield the sword

And still fresh laur­els win.