And take the battle-field for thee.

I fear not the swift arrow's power
Since thou art my high, strong-built tower;
The darts may have a bitter sting,
I shelter 'neath thy feathery wing.

Before me the Goliaths tall
Must quickly flee or headlong fall;
The foe is bruised beneath my feet;
In thee the victory is complete.

Jesus, to thee I give up all,
To live or die, to stand or fall.
The sparrows have thy kindly care;
I'm more than they, then need I fear?

I have a refuge from all harm
Within thy strong encircling arm;
Thou keepest me by day and night,
And guidest my weak steps aright.

The hairs on my unworthy head
Are numbered all, thy Book has said.
Gathered, like the defenseless brood,
My soul is kept in quietude.

As kind and loving parents would
Give to their children all things good,
So from thy presence angels bring