O God, no longer hold Thy peace, No longer silent be; Thine enemies lift up their head To fight Thy saints and Thee. Against Thine own, whom Thou dost love, Their craft Thy foes employ; They think to cut Thy people off, Thy church they would destroy.
Thine ancient foes, conspiring still, With one consent agree, And they who with Thy people strive Make war, O God, on Thee. O God, who in our fathers’ time Didst smite our foes and Thine, So smite Thine enemies today Who in their pride combine.
Make them like dust and stubble blown Before the whirlwind dire, In terror driv’n before the storm Of Thy consuming fire. Confound them in their sin till they To Thee for pardon fly, Till in dismay they, trembling, own That Thou art God Most High.