Help, Lord, for Men of Virtue Fail

Help

Lord

for men of vir­tue fail

Religion los­es ground

The sons of vio­lence pre­vail

And trea­cher­ies abound.

Their oaths and pro­mis­es they break

Yet act the flat­ter­er’s part;

With fair de­ceit­ful lips they speak

And with a dou­ble heart.

If we re­prove some hate­ful lie

How is their fu­ry stirred!

Are not our lips our own? they cry;

And who shall be our Lord?

Scoffers ap­pear on ev­ery side

Where a vile race of men

Is raised to seats of pow­er and pride

And bears the sword in vain.

Lord

when ini­qui­ties abound

And blas­phe­my grows bold;

When faith is hard­ly to be found

And love is wax­ing cold;

Is not Thy cha­ri­ot has­ten­ing on?

Hast Thou not giv’n this sign?

May we not trust and live up­on

A pro­mise so di­vine?

Yes

sa­ith the Lord

now will I rise

And make op­press­ors flee;

I shall ap­pear to their sur­prise

And set My serv­ants free.

Thy Word

like sil­ver sev­en times tried

Through ag­es shall en­dure;

The men that in Thy truth con­fide

Shall find the pro­mise sure.