PAGE 2
The Church And Word Of God
by
And did the world with devils swarm
All gaping to devour us,
We fear not from them the least harm;
Success lies sure before us.
This world’s prince accurst,
Let him rage his worst,
Only roars about;
His doom it is gone out,
A word can overthrow him.
The Word they’ll have to let it bide,
Nor there claim any merit;
He is with us, and on our side
With his own gifts and spirit!
Let them take our life,
Goods, name, child, and wife–
Everything may go:
To them it is no gain;
The kingdom ours remaineth.
IV.
THE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOURTH PSALM.
Were God not with us all the time–
Israel may loud declare it–
Were God not with us all the time,
We must have now despaired;
For we are such a little flock
Despised by such a crowd of folk,
Who all do set upon us!
‘Gainst us so angry is their mood,
If God had given them tether
Us they had swallowed where we stood,
Body and soul together.
We should have been drowned all, like those
O’er whom the waters great did close,
And swept them off relentless.
Thank God! their throat who did not let
Us swallow when it gaped;
As from a snare a bird doth flit
So is our soul escaped.
The snare’s in two, and we are through:
The name of God it standeth true,
The God of earth and heaven. Amen.
V.
A CHILDREN’S SONG, TO SING AGAINST THE TWO
ARCHENEMIES OF CHRIST AND HIS
HOLY CHURCH, THE POPE AND THE TURKS.
Lord, keep us by thy word in hope,
And check the murder of Turk and Pope,
Who Jesus Christ, thine only Son,
Would fain from off thy throne cast down.
Proof of thy strength, Lord Christ, afford,
For thou of all the lords art Lord;
Thy own poor Christendom defend,
That it may praise thee without end.
God Holy Ghost, who Comfort art,
Give to thy folk on earth one heart;
Stand by us breathing our last breath;
Into life lead us out of death.
VI.
A SONG OF THE HOLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH,
FROM THE TWELFTH CHAPTER OF THE APOCALYPSE.
Her, the worthy maid, my heart doth hold,
And I shall not forget her.
Praise, honour, virtue of her are told;
Than all I love her better.
I seek her good,
And if I should
Right evil fare,
I do not care:
With that she’ll make me merry!
With love and truth that never tire
Glad she will make me very,
And do all my desire.
She wears a crown of pure gold, where
Twelve stars their rays are twining;
Her raiment like the sun is fair,
And bright from far is shining.
Her feet the moon
Are set upon;
She is the bride
By Jesus’ side!
She hath sorrow, must be mother
To her fair child, the noble Son,
Of all men lord and brother,
Her king, her crowned one.
That makes the old dragon ramp and roar;
The child he tries to swallow;
His rage is rage and nothing more!
No hurt that rage will follow.
The child up high
Into the sky
Away is heft,
And he is left
On earth, all mad with murder.
The mother all alone is she,
But God will watch and ward her,
And her true Father be.
VII.
A SONG CONCERNING THE TWO MARTYRS OF CHRIST,
BURNT AT BRUSSELS BY THE SOPHISTS OF LOUBAINE,
WHICH TOOK PLACE IN THE YEAR 1523.