424 Look down, O Lord, from heaven behold,

1 Look down, O Lord, from heaven behold, And let Thy pity waken! How few the flock within Thy fold, Neglected and forsaken! Men suffer not Thy word to stand, And faith seems quenched on every hand, Dark times have us o'ertaken. 2 With frauds which they themselves invent The truth they have confounded: Their hearts are not with one consent On Thy pure doctrine grounded; And, whilst they gleam with outward show, They lead Thy people to and fro, In error's maze astounded. 3 God surely will uproot all those Who with deceits now store us; With haughty tongue they God oppose, And say, "Who stands before us? By right or might we shall prevail; What we determine cannot fail, For who can lord it o'er us?" 4 Then saith our God: I will arise, These wolves My flock are rending; I've heard My people's bitter sighs To heaven, My throne, ascending: My saving word for them shall fight And fearlessly and sharply smite The poor with mild defending. 5 As silver tried by fire is pure From all adulteration; So, through God's word, shall men endure Each trial and temptation: Its worth gleams brighter through the cross, And, purified from human dross, It shines through every nation. 6 Defend, O God, Thy truth, and stay This evil generation; And from the error of their way Keep Thine own congregation. The wicked everywhere abound, And would Thy little flock confound, Which, Lord, forbid them. Amen.