Help, Lord, for men of virtue fail,Religion loses ground,The sons of violence prevail,And treacheries abound.
Their oaths and promises they break,Yet act the flatterer’s part;With fair, deceitful lips they speak,And with a double heart.
If we reprove some hateful lie,How is their fury stirred!“Are not our lips our own?” they cry;“And who shall be our Lord?”
Scoffers appear on every side,Where a vile race of menIs raised to seats of power and pride,And bears the sword in vain.
Lord, when iniquities abound,And blasphemy grows bold,;When faith is hardly to be found,And love is waxing cold;
Is not Thy chariot hastening on?Hast Thou not giv’n this sign?May we not trust and live uponA promise so divine?
“Yes,” saith the Lord, “now will I rise,And make oppressors flee;I shall appear to their surprise,And set My servants free.”
Thy Word, like silver sev’n times tried,Through ages shall endure;The men that in Thy truth confideShall find the promise sure.