1 0 little flock, fear not the foe
Who madly seeks your overthrow;
Dread not his rage and pow'r.
And though your courage sometimes faints,
His seeming triumph o'er God's saints
Lasts but a little hour.
2 Be of good cheer; your cause belongs
To Him who can avenge your wrongs;
Leave it to Him, our Lord.
Though hidden yet from mortal eyes,
His Gideon shall for you arise,
Uphold you and His Word.
3 As true as God's own Word is true,
Not earth nor hell's satanic crew
Against us shall prevail.
Their might? A joke, a mere facade!
God is with us and we with god--
Our vict'ry cannot fail.
4 Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer;
Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare,
Fight for us once again!
So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise
A mighty chorus to Thy praise,
|First Line:||O little flock, fear not the foe|
|Title:||O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe|
|Author:||Jacob Fabricius, 1593-1654|
|Translator:||Catherine Winkworth, 1827-78|
|Scripture:||Luke 12:32; 2 Timothy 4:18; Luke 18:7-8; Revelation 7:9-17|
|Topic:||The Church Militant; Reformation|
|Name:||KOMMT HER ZU MIR|
|Key:||e minor or modal|
|Source:||German, Nürnberg, 1534|