The music score of this hymn can be found at #100 of Heavenly Melodies
Lyrics: Isaac Watts
Help, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion loses ground!
The sons of violence prevail,
And treacheries abound.
Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatterer’s part;
With fair, deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.
If we reprove some hateful lie,
They scorn our faithful word:
“Are not our lips our own,” they cry,
“And who shall be our Lord?”
Scoffers appear on ev’ry side,
Where a vile race of men
Is rais’d to seats of pow’r and pride,
And bears the sword in vain.
Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blasphemy grows bold,;
When faith is rarely to be found,
And love is waxing cold:
Is not thy chariot hastening on!
Hast thou not given this sign?
May we not trust and live upon
A promise so divine?
“Yes, saith the Lord, now will I rise,
“And make oppressors flee;
“I shall appear to their surprise,
“And set my servants free”
Thy word, like silver sev’n times try’d,
Through ages shall endure;
The men that in thy truth confide,
Shall find thy promise sure.