1 Regard in tenderness, O Lord,
The ills Thy children bear;
Do Thou Thy gracious help afford,
And answer this our prayer.

2 We trust not in the arms of flesh,
We lean upon Thy word;
For Thine own arm omnipotent,
Is mightier than the sword.

3 What care we for the midnight foe?
Of arrows winged with light?
Or pestilence's fatal touch,
Since Thou, Lord, art our might?

4 We need not fear the cruel hate
Of those we've done no wrong;
We look to Thee, our Advocate,
For weapons sure and strong.

5 In common Fatherhood above,
Thou reignest o'er the world;
The poor Thou liftest from the dust,
The proud are downward hurled.

AMEN.