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2554.

[Ah, whither will ye fly]

As he journeyed, he came near Damascus. —ix. 3.

Ah, whither will ye fly
Ye sheep of Jesus' fold?
The death approaching nigh,
The slaughtering wolf behold:
He comes besmear'd with Stephen's blood
To martyr all the saints of God.
Now, now he ready is
To spring upon his prey,
The helpless flock to seize,
And rend, and tear, and slay!
Lord what shall stop his headlong rage,
And save Thy wasted heritage?
A word, a look from Thee
Can make the savage tame,
Disarm his cruelty
And change him to a lamb,
Can strike opposers to the ground
And all Thy church's foes confound.
Thou them in their distress
Didst at Damascus save,
That we when men oppress
Full confidence may have,

234

Rest in the fold, and safe from harm
Depend on Thine unshorten'd arm.