Lord, how my nu­mer­ous foes in­crease,
Excite my fears, dis­turb my peace!
The pow­ers of hell against me rise,
And God, they cry, His help de­nies.

But Thou, my glo­ry and my shield,
My God, Thy pow­er­ful aid shalt yield;
On Thee my stead­fast hopes re­pose,
To lift my head o’er all my foes.

To God I cried―my ev­en­ing prayer
Humbly im­plored Je­ho­vah’s care;
He vowed my wishes to ful­fill,
And heard me from His ho­ly hill.

Then, with His guard­ian mer­cy blest,
I laid my wea­ry frame to rest;
Sweet slum­bers closed my peace­ful eyes,
Nor foes mo­lest, nor fears sur­prise.

Again the shades of dark­ness flee,
I wake, sus­tained, my God, by Thee;
Thy guard­ian care re­news my days,
And claims my morn­ing song of praise.

Now shall my heart its fears dis­claim,
I trust in faith Je­ho­vah’s name;
Though round my soul ten thou­sand rage,
The Lord shall in my cause en­gage.

Rise, O my Sav­ior, rise and spread,
Thy shield, the shel­ter round my head;
Thy cross the ser­pent’s wrath hath broke,
And Sa­tan falls be­neath Thy stroke.

Salvation to the Lord be­longs,
His vic­to­ry claims my high­est songs;
His bless­ing all His saints shall share,
Then let His saints His praise de­clare.