Backward, Christian soldiers, fleeing from the fight,
With the cross of Jesus nearly out of sight.
Christ, our rightful Master, stands against the foe,
But forward into battle we are loathe to go.
Refrain:
Backward, Christian soldiers, fleeing from the fight,
With the cross of Jesus nearly out of sight.
Like a mighty tortoise moves the Church of God;
Brothers we are treading where we’ve always trod.
We are much divided, many bodies we,
Having many doctrines, not much charity.
Crowns and thorns may perish, kingdoms rise and wane,
But the Church of Jesus hidden does remain.
Gates of hell should never ’gainst the Church prevail;
We have Christ’s own promise, but think that it will fail.
Sit here then ye people, join our useless throng,
Blend with ours your voices in a feeble song.
Blessings, ease and comfort, ask from Christ the King;
With our modern thinking, we don’t do a thing.
