Poem November 5, 1910 Issue

Fear not, O little flock, the foe...

Fear not, O little flock, the foe
Who madly seeks your overthrow;
Dread not his rage and power;
What though your courage sometimes faints?
This seeming triumph o'er God's saints
Lasts but a little hour.

Fear not, be strong! your cause belongs
To Him who can avenge your wrongs;
Leave all to Him, your Lord:
Though hidden yet from mortal eyes,
Salvation shall for you arise;
He girdeth on His sword!

As true as God's own promise stands,
Not earth nor hell with all their bands
Against us shall prevail;
The Lord shall mock them from His throne;
God is with us; we are His own;
Our victory cannot fail!

Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer!
Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare,
Thy church with strength defend;
So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise
A joyous chorus to Thy praise,
Through ages without end.

"The Battle Song of Gustavus Adolphus," from the German of Michael Altenberg.

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