Rest on the splendor of the prize.
3 No idling now, no wasteful sleep;
We trim our lamps, our vigils keep;
No shrinking from the desperate fight,
No thought of yielding or of flight;
4 No love of present gain nor ease,
No seeking man nor self to please.—
With the brave heart and steady eye,
We onward march to victory.
5 Night is far spent, and morn is near—