1 Had not the Lord, may Israel say, Had not the Lord maintain'd our side, When men to make our lives a prey, Rose like the swelling of the tide;
2 The swelling tide had stopt our breath, So fiercely did the waters roll, We had been swallow'd deep in death; Proud waters had o'erwhelm'd our soul.
3 We leap for joy, we shout and sing, Who just escap'd the fatal stroke; So flies the bird with cheerful wing, When once the fowler's snare is broke.
4 For ever blessed be the Lord, Who broke the fowler's cursed snare, Who sav'd us from the murdering sword, And made our lives and souls his care.
5 Our help is in Jehovah's Name, Who form'd the earth and built the skies; He that upholds that wondrous frame Guards his own church with watchful eyes.