Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Because young David's God is yours. Who order'd Gideon forth, To storm the invaders' camp. And all the host was overthrown. Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend, Will help his servant to the end. Peace by his injured Sovereign wrought, His Sovereign fasten'd to a tree.
Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food.
The slave of a vainglorious tribe, Who hate you while they make you known. Delight but in a Saviour's charms, And God shall take you to the skies, Embraced in everlasting arms. Here, in the fair gospel-field, Wells of free salvation yield Stream of life, a plenteous store, And my soul shall thirst no more. While I live, my pleasant song. Raise again the joyful sound.