|BELIEVERS, like their Lord of old,
Must bear with foes and trials here:
Yet may the weakest saint be bold,
With such a Friend as Jesus near.
|2||The lionís roar need not alarm,
O Lord, the weakest of Thy sheep;
The serpentís venom cannot harm,
While Thou art near to watch and keep.
|3||Before, when dangers round me spread,
I cried to my almighty Friend;
He covered my defenceless head;
So now Iíll trust Him to the end.
|4||O refuge of the poor and weak,
Regard Thy suffering peopleís cry;
Humble the proud, uphold the meek,
And bring us safe to Thee on high.
|Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847|