The Battle-Song of Gustavus Adolphus

Michael Altenburg (1584–1640)

Anonymous translation from the German

FEAR not, O little flock! the foe

Who madly seeks your overthrow,

Dread not his rage and power;

What though your courage sometimes faints?

His seeming triumph o’er God’s saints

Lasts but a little hour.

Be of good cheer; your cause belongs

To him who can avenge your wrongs,

Leave it to him, our Lord.

Though hidden now from all our eyes,

He sees the Gideon who shall rise

To save us, and his word.

As true as God’s own word is true,

Not earth or hell with all their crew

Against us shall prevail.

A jest and by-word are they grown;

God is with us, we are his own,

Our victory cannot fail.

Amen, Lord Jesus; grant our prayer!

Great Captain, now thine arm make bare;

Fight for us once again!

So shall the saints and martyrs raise

A mighty chorus to thy praise,

World without end!Amen.