1 Unshaken as the sacred hill,
And firm as mountains stand,
Firm, as a rock, the soul shall rest,
That trusts th' Almighty hand.
2 Not walls nor hills could guard so well
Old Salem's happy ground,
As those eternal arms of love,
That ev'ry saint surround.
3 While tyrants are a smarting scourge,
To drive them near to God,
Divine compassion will assuage
The fury of the rod.
4 Deal gently, Lord, with souls sincere,
And lead them safely on
To the bright gates of paradise,
Where Christ, their Lord, is gone.
5 But if we trace those crooked ways
That the old serpent drew,
The wrath that drove him first to hell,
Shall smite his foll'wers too.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Unshaken as the sacred hill |
Title: | The saint's trial and safety |
Meter: | Common Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Public Domain. |