1 Poor fearful saint, be not dismayed,
Nor dread the dangers of the night;
Thy God will ever be thy aid,
And put the hosts of hell to flight.

2 Nor sin, nor Satan, can o’ercome
The arm that vindicates thy cause;
God, thy own God, will lead thee home,
In spite of all that may oppose.

3 [Should hosts within, and hosts without,
At once unite to make thee yield,
Thy God shall put them all to rout,
And make thee master of the field.]

4 In every sore and deep distress,
“I am thy God” shall be thy stay;
Thy God shall all thy woes redress,
And drive thy guilty fears away.

5 This soul-supporting truth contains
All blessings that a God can give;
In sorrows, sicknesses, or pains,
Thy God will every need relieve.