Look down, O Lord, from heaven behold

1 Look down, O Lord, from heaven behold,
And let Thy pity waken!
How few the flock within Thy fold,
Neglected and forsaken!
Men suffer not Thy Word to stand,
And faith seems quenched on every hand
Dark times have us o'ertaken.

2 With fraud 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.

3 God surely will uproot all those
Who with deceits now store us;
with haughty tongue they God oppose,
And say, "Who stands before us?
By right or might we shall prevail;
What we determine cannot fail,
For who can lord it o'er us?"

4 Then saith our God: I will arise,
These wolves My flock are rending;
I've heard My people's bitter sighs
To heaven, My throne, ascending:
My saving Word shall fight
And fearlessly and sharply smite,
The poor with might defending.

5 As silver tried by fire 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.

6 Defend, O God, Thy truth, and stay
This evil generation;
And from the error of their way
Keep Thine own congregation.
The wicked everywhere abound,
And would Thy little flock confound,
Which, Lord, forbid them. Amen.