Hark, the Church proclaims her honor,
And her strength is only this:
God hath laid His choice upon her,
And the work she doth is His.
He His Church hath firmly founded,
He will guard what He began;
We, by sin and foes surrounded,
Build her bulwarks as we can.
Frail and fleeting are our powers,
Short our days, our foresight dim,
And we own the choice not ours,
We are chosen first by Him.
Onward, then! For naught despairing,
Calm we follow at His word,
Thus through joy and sorrow bearing
Faithful witness to our Lord.
Tho’ we here must strive in weakness,
Though in tears we often bend,
What His might began in meekness
Shall achieve a glorious end.