The lion that on Sampson roared,
And thirsted for his blood;
With honey afterwards was stored,
And furnished him with food.

Believers, as they pass along,
With many lions meet;
But gather sweetness from the strong,
And from the eater, meat.

The lions rage and roar in vain,
For Je­sus is their shield;
Their losses prove a certain gain,
Their troubles comfort yield.

The world and Satan join their strength,
To fill their souls with fears;
But crops of joy they reap at length,
From what they sow in tears.

Afflictions make them love the Word,
Stir up their hearts to prayer;
And many precious proofs afford,
Of their Re­deem­er’s care.

The lions roar but cannot kill,
Then fear them not, my friends;
They bring us, though against their will,
The honey Je­sus sends.