Isaac Watts, 1719
God is the refuge of His saints,|
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold Him present with His aid.
2. Let the mountains from their seats be hurled
3. Loud may the troubled ocean roar;
4. There is a stream whose gentle flow|
Supplies the city of our God;
Life, love, and joy, still guiding through,
And wat'ring our divine abode.
5. That sacred stream, thine holy word,
6. Zion enjoys her Monarch's love,
| Song Index | Home Page |