O God, no longer hold Thy peace,
No longer silent be;
Thine enemies lift up their head
To fight Thy saints and Thee.
Against Thine own, whom Thou dost love,
Their craft Thy foes employ;
They think to cut Thy people off,
Thy church they would destroy. Thine ancient foes, conspiring still,
With one consent agree,
And they who with Thy people strive
Make war, O God, on Thee.
O God, who in our fathers’ time
Didst smite our foes and Thine,
So smite Thine enemies today
Who in their pride combine. Make them like dust and stubble blown
Before the whirlwind dire,
In terror driv’n before the storm
Of Thy consuming fire.
Confound them in their sin till they
To Thee for pardon fly,
Till in dismay they, trembling, own
That Thou art God Most High. |
