THERE are two little armies

  On the world's great battle field;

Though unnoted oft by mortals,

To the eye of God revealed.

Though we hear no shouts of triumph,

Though we see no fearful fray,

Those little armies battle

For Right, and Wrong each day.

They must fight, no ground is neutral,

And watch the sides they take:

One little army chooses

To fight for truth's dear sake;

And the banner floating o'er it,

Rises proudly up to view,

And I read this glorious motto:

"Fighting for the Good and True,

The Beautiful and True!"

How brave that little army!

What a halo o'er it shines!

And even angels welcome,

Every soldier to its lines!

How stirring is the music

Of the tramp of little feet,

That in God's holy, happy highway

Swiftly onward and upward beat,

Onward and upward beat.

Alas! The other army

'Neath a gloomy flag unfurled,

Marches with the hosts of evil,

Treads the dark ways of the world!

Not for the True and Beautiful,

Does it grow brave and strong,

For I read upon its banner,

"Fighting for the Wrong,

Old surly-hearted Wrong!"