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The wicked fools must sure suppose
that God is but a name;
This gross mistake their practice shows,
since virtue all disclaim:
The Lord looked down from heav'n's high tow'r,
the sons of men to view;
To see if any owned his pow'r,
or truth; or justice knew.
But all, he saw, were backwards gone,
degen'rate grown, and base;
None for religion cared, not one
of all the sinful race.
But are those workers of deceit
so dull and senseless grown,
That they, like bread, my people eat,
and God's just pow'r disown?
Their causeless fears shall strangely grow,
and they, despised of God,
Shall soon be foiled; his hand shall throw
their shattered bones abroad.
Would he his saving pow'r employ
to break our servile band,
Loud shouts of universal joy
should echo through the land.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1696
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 53;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1821 | # 53 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
