Equip me for the war,
And teach my hands to fight,

Equip me for the war,

And teach my hands to fight,
My simple, upright heart prepare,
And guide my words aright;
Control my every thought,
My whole of sin remove;
Let all my works in thee be wrought,
Let all be wrought in love.

O arm me with the mind,
Meek Lamb! which was in thee,
And let my knowing zeal be joined
With perfect charity;
With calm and tempered zeal
Let me enforce thy call,
And vindicate thy gracious will
Which offers life to all.

O do not let me trust
In any arm but thine!
Humble, O humble to the dust
This stubborn soul of mine
A feeble thing of nought,
With lowly shame I own,
The help which upon earth is wrought,
Thou dost it all alone.

O may I love like thee!
In all thy footsteps tread,
Thou hatest all iniquity,
But nothing thou hast made.
O may I learn the art
With meekness to reprove;
To hate the sin with all my heart,
But still the sinner love.


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