1 O LORD, look down from heav'n, behold,
and let your pity waken;
how few are we within your fold,
your saints by all forsaken.
True faith seems quenched on ev'ry hand,
your Word is not allowed to stand;
dark times have us o'ertaken.
2 O God, root out all heresy,
and of false teachers rid us
who proudly say, "Now where is he
who shall our speech forbid us?
By right or might we shall prevail,
what we determine cannot fail;
we want no lord and master!"
3 Therefore said God, "I must arise,
the poor my help are needing;
to me ascend my people's cries,
and I have heard their pleading.
For them my saving Word shall fight
and fearlessly and sharply smite,
the poor with might defending."
4 Defend your truth, O God, and stay
this evil generation,
and from the error of its way
keep your own congregation.
The wicked ev'rywhere abound
and would your little flock confound,
but you are our salvation!
Source: Christian Worship: Psalter #12A