Vain Are the Hopes That Rebels Place

Vain are the hopes that re­bels place

Upon their birth and blood

Descended from a pi­ous race;

Their fa­thers now with God.

He from the caves of earth and hell

Can take the hard­est stones

And fill the house of Ab­ra’m well

With new-cre­at­ed sons.

Such won­drous pow­er doth He pos­sess

Who formed our mor­tal frame

Who called the world from emp­ti­ness

The world ob­eyed and came.