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Hymn/Song Information

Hark tis a martial sound To arms ye




Hark, 'tis a martial sound !
To arms, ye saints, to arms !
Your foes are gathering round,
And peace has lost its charms:
Prepare the helmet, sword, and shield;
The trumpet calls you to the field.


No common foes appear
To dare you to the fight,
But such as own no fear
And glory in their might:
The Powers of Darkness are at hand ;
Resist, or bow to their command.


An arm of flesh must fail
In such a strife as this ;
He only can prevail
Whose arm immortal is :
'Tis Heaven itself the strength must yield,
And weapons fit for such a field.


And Heaven supplies them too :
The Lord, who never faints,
Is greater than the foe,
And He is with His saints :
Thus arm'd, they venture to the fight;
Thus arm'd, they put their foes to flight.


And, when the conflict's past,
On yonder peaceful shore
They shall repose at last,
And see their foes no more ;
The fruits of victory enjoy,
And never more their arms employ.

marker 99
LYRICS
Meter: 6 6 6 6 8 8
Writer(s):
    Trans/Adapted:
      Dates: 1809
      Bible Refs:
      MUSIC
      Name: ST. JOHN (PARISH)
      Meter: 6 6 6 6 8 8
      Writer(s):
        Dates: 1850
        SCORE PREVIEW
        score
        echo '
        ';
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