The ancients said, We’ll trust in thee, nor ever be dismayed.
They said, ’Tis nothing, Lord, with thee, with many or with few,
To put a mighty host to flight, and all our foes subdue.
Will you go against the multitude, in his own strength and name?
He fought their battles and he’s still unchangeably the same.
Their hope’s an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast too,
And buoys their spirits up in all the conflicts they go through.
Will you have this hope to cheer you, to an unfading crown—
A crown that far outshines this world, with all its grand renown?
They’ve no abiding city here, but look for one to come,