Warriors true, ’tis no false glory
For which now you peril life,—
For no worthless aim unholy,
Do ye plunge into the strife;
No unstable, fleeting vision
Bright before your gaze hath shone,
No day dream of wild ambition,
Now your footsteps urges on:

But a cause both great and glorious,
Worthy of a Christian’s might,
One which yet shall be victorious,—
’Tis the cause of God and right:
Men! by aim more pure and holy
Say, could soldiers be enticed?
Strike for truth and conscience solely,
Strike for Pius and for Christ.

Even like the brave Crusaders—
Heroes true and tried of old,
You would check the rash invaders
Of all that we sacred hold.
And though hosts your steps beleaguer,
Full of might and martial pride;
For the conflict be you eager—
God Himself will be your guide!

Soldiers of the Cross, remember
In the cause you fight for now,
’Tis not earthly wreaths you gather
To adorn the dauntless brow;
But the laurels bright—unfading,
Never from you to be riven—
Which will yet your brows be shading
In the shining courts of Heaven.