Look down, O Lord, from heaven behold,

And let thy pity waken!

How few the flock within thy fold,

Neglected and forsaken!

Almost Thou’lt seek for faith in vain,

And those who should thy truth maintain,

Thy word from us have taken.

With frauds which they themselves invent

Thy truth they have confounded:

Their hearts are not with one consent

On thy pure doctrine grounded;

And, whilst they gleam with outward show,

They lead thy people to and fro,

In error’s maze astounded.

God surely will uproot all those

With vain deceits who store us,

With haughty tongue who God oppose,

And say, “Who’ll stand before us?

By right or might we will prevail;

What we determine cannot fail,

For who can lord it o’er us?”

For this, saith God, I will arise,

These wolves my flock are rending;

I’ve heard my people’s bitter sighs

To heaven my throne ascending:

Now will I up, and set at rest

Each weary soul by fraud opprest,

The poor with might defending.

The silver seven times tried is pure

From all adulteration;

So, through God’s word, shall men endure

Each trial and temptation:

Its worth gleams brighter through the cross,

And, purified from human dross,

It shines through every nation.

Thy truth Thou wilt preserve, O Lord,

Pure from their artful glozing;

Oh! make us lean upon thy word,

With hearts unmov’d reposing,

Though bad men triumph and their crew

Are gather’d round, the faithful few

With crafty toils enclosing.