All who cleave to Christ, the Head!
Wake, arise, O mighty nation,
Ere the foe on Zion tread:
He draws nigh, and would defy
All the hosts of God Most High.
Saints and heroes, long before us,
Firmly on this ground have stood;
See their banner waving o’er us,
Conquerors through the Saviour’s blood!
Ground we hold whereon of old