P.XLVI.I. God is the refuge of his saints

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
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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