by George Verwer

Backward Christian soldiers,
Fleeing from the fight,
With the cross of Jesus,
Nearly out of sight.
Christ our rightful master
Stands against the foe
Onward into battle, we
seem afraid to go.

Chorus:
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 often trod.
We are much divided,
Many bodies we,
Having different doctrines, but
Not much charity.

Crowns and thrones may perish,
Kingdoms rise and wane,
But the cross of Jesus
Hidden does remain.
Gates of hell should never
'gainst the Church prevail,
We have Christ's own promise, but
we think it might fail.

Sit here then ye people,
Join our sleeping throng.
Blend with ours, your voices
in a feeble song.
Blessings, ease and comfort
Ask from Christ the King,
But with our modern thinking,
We won't do a thing.