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1 Protect us, Lord, from fatal harm;
Behold our rising woes;
We trust alone the powerful arm,
To scatter all our foes.
2 Their tongue is like a poison'd dart,
Their thoughts are full of guile,
While rage and carnage swell their heart,
They wear a peaceful smile.
3 O God of grace, thy guardian care,
When foes without invade,
Or spread within a deeper snare,
Supplies our constant aid.
4 Let falsehood flee before thy face,
Thy heavenly truth extend,
And nations taste thy heavenly grace,
And all delusion end.
5 With daily bread the poor supply,
The cause of justice plead,
And be thy church exalted high,
With Christ the glorious head.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Protect us, Lord, from fatal harm |
Meter: | Common Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1787 |
Scripture: |