Will God for Ever Cast Us Off?

Will God for ev­er cast us off?

His wrath for ev­er smoke

Against the peo­ple of His love

His lit­tle chos­en flock?

Think of the tribes so dear­ly bought

With their Re­deem­er’s blood;

Nor let Thy Si­on be forgot

Where once Thy glo­ry stood.

Lift up Thy feet and march in haste

Aloud our ru­in calls;

See what a wide and fear­ful waste

Is made with­in Thy walls.

Where once Thy church­es prayed and sang

Thy foes pro­fane­ly roar;

Over Thy gates their en­signs hang

Sad to­kens of their pow­er.

How are the seats of wor­ship broke!

They tear the build­ings down

And he that deals the hea­vi­est stroke

Procures the chief re­nown.

With flames they threat­en to de­stroy

Thy child­ren in their nest;

Come

let us burn at once

they cry

The tem­ple and the priest.

And still

to height­en our dis­tress

Thy pre­sence is with­drawn;

Thy wont­ed signs of pow­er and grace

Thy pow­er and grace are gone.

No pro­phet speaks to calm our woes

But all the seers mourn;

There’s not a soul amongst us knows

The time of Thy re­turn.

How long

eter­nal God

how long

Shall men of pride blas­pheme?

Shall saints be made their end­less song

And bear im­mor­tal shame?

Canst Thou for ev­er sit and hear

Thine ho­ly name pro­faned?

And still Thy jeal­ousy for­bear

And still with­hold Thine hand?

What strange de­liv­er­ance hast Thou shown

In ag­es long be­fore!

And now no oth­er god we own

No oth­er god ad­ore.

Thou didst di­vide the rag­ing sea

By Thy re­sist­less might

To make Thy tribes a won­drous way

And then se­cure their flight.

Is not the world of na­ture Thine

The dark­ness and the day?

Didst Thou not bid the morn­ing shine

And mark the sun his way?

Hath not Thy pow­er formed ev­ery coast

And set the earth its bounds

With sum­mer’s heat

and win­ter’s frost

In their per­pe­tu­al rounds?

And shall the sons of earth and dust

That sac­red pow­er blas­pheme?

Will not Thy hand that formed them first

Avenge Thine in­jured name?

Think on the co­ve­nant Thou hast made

And all Thy words of love;

Nor let the birds of prey in­vade

And vex Thy mourn­ing dove.

Our foes would tri­umph in our blood

And make our hope their jest;

Plead Thy own cause

Al­migh­ty God

And give Thy child­ren rest.