Now unclothed, like skeletons, they stand.
They stand through many dark sky nights
where the moon doth give no light.
Through bow-breaking snows and ice,
through storms and floods, they faint not.
Holding fast, staying true to what God
has created them to do.

Rays of golden sun exhibit budding leaves and flowers
a tree's reward.
And when they produce sweet fruit,
the world is better still.
For what is true can turn back an evil tide.

Marching forward, eyes on Christ,
the battle is fought, standing still at peace,
a life's reward.
Shade is in this parched, dry land.
Will people come to know it?
What will they find on you?