1 Brethren, while we sojourn here,
Fight we must, but should not fear;
Foes we have, but we’ve a friend,
One that loves us to the end.
Forward then with courage go,
Long we shall not dwell below;
Soon the joyful news will come,
"Child, your Father calls—Come home!"

2 In the way a thousand snares
Lie, to take us unawares;
Satan, with malicious art,
Watches each unguarded part:
But, from Satan’s malice free,
Saints shall soon victorious be;
Soon the joyful news will come,
"Child, your Father calls—Come home!"

3 But, of all the foes we meet,
None so oft mislead our feet,
None betray us into sin,
Like the foes that dwell within.
Yet let nothing spoil your peace,
Christ will also conquer these;
Then the joyful news will come,
"Child, your Father calls—Come home!"