P.XLV.II | Church Hymn Book#P.XLVI.I | P.XLVI.II |
1 God is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.
2 Let mountains from their seats be hurl'd
Down to the deep, and buried there,
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.
3 Loud may the troubled ocean roar,
In sacred peace our souls abide,
While ev'ry nation, ev'ery shore,
Tremble and dreads the swelling tide.
4 There is a stream, whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God!
Life, love and joy, still guiding thro'
And wat’ring our divine abode.
5 That sacred stream, thy holy word,
Supports our faith, our fear controls;
Sweet peace thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.
6 Zion enjoys her Monarch’s love,
Secure against a threat'ning hour;
Nor can her firm foundations move,
Built on his truth and arm'd with pow'r.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | God is the refuge of his saints |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1816 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | The Church's Safety and Triumph among National Desolations |