I.

SUR

URROUNDED by unnumbered foes,
Against my soul the battle goes;
Yet, though I weary sore distressed,
I know that I shall reach my rest.

I lift my tearful eyes above,

His banner over me is love.

2.

Its sword my spirit will not yield,
Though flesh may faint upon the field;

He waves before my fading sight
The branch of palm-the crown of light.

I lift my brightening eyes above,

His banner over me is love.

3.

My cloud of battle-dust may dim,
His veil of splendor curtain him,
And in the midnight of my fear
I may not feel him standing near;
But, as I lift mine eyes above,
His banner over me is love.

GERALD MASSEY, 1828

I.

BE

E not dismayed, thou little flock,
Although the foe's fierce battle-shock,
Loud on all sides, assail thee.

Though o'er thy fall they laugh secure,
Their triumph cannot long endure:
Let not thy courage fail thee.

2.

Thy cause is God's: go at his call,
And to his hand commit thy all.

Fear thou no ill impending.
His Gideon shall arise for thee,
God's word and people manfully,
In God's own time, defending.

3.

Our hope is sure in Jesus' might;
Against themselves the godless fight,
Themselves, not us, distressing.
Shame and contempt their lot shall be;
God is with us, with him are we;

To us belongs his blessing.

GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, 1594-1632
Tr. ELIZABETH CHARLES, 1828-