The Church’s Safety and Triumph. Ps. 46
I. Watts L.M.
1
God is the refuge of his saints
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.
2
Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep and buried there:
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.
3
Loud may the troubled ocean roar,
In sacred peace our souls abide,
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles and dreads the swelling tide.
4
There is a stream whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God;
Life, love, and joy, still gliding through,
And watering our divine abode.
5
That sacred stream, thine holy Word,
That all our raging fear controls;
Sweet peace thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.
6
Zion enjoys her Monarch’s love,
Secure against a threatening hour;
Nor can her firm foundation move,
Built on his truth and armed with power.
