Arm of the Lord! awake! awake!

Put on thy strength, the nations shake:

And let the world, adoring, see

Triumphs of mercy wrought by thee.



Say to the heathen, from thy throne,

“I am Jehovah, God alone!”

Thy voice their idols shall confound,

And cast their altars to the ground.

Faith must obey her Father’s will

As well as trust his grace;

A pardoning God is jealous still

For his own holiness.

Though from his wrath he sets us free,

He will be Lord within,

Nor will he let his servants be

Unchastened if they sin.

We bless the Lord of tender love

Who sees the feeblest spark of grace,

And sends his Spirit from above

To bless the babes that seek his face.



His quick approving eye discerns

Where “some good thing” for God is found;

On that good thing his eye he turns,

And there he makes his gifts abound.



Well may the Lord that good espy,

‘Tis he who works all good within;

Faith’s healing look, prayer’s childlike cry,

And love which weeps o’er pardon’d sin.

Lift up a banner in the field

For those that fear thy name;

Save thy beloved with thy shield,

And put our foes to shame.

Our faith shall gain a wide renown

By thine assisting hand;

Tis God that treads the mighty down

And makes the feeble stand.

Ye fearful saints fresh courage take,

The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercies, and shall break

With blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence,

He hides a smiling face.