God’s Three Hundred

Once

Gi­de­on at God’s com­mand

Took from his ar­my great and grand

A chos­en few

a lit­tle band

Of just three hun­dred;

The rank and file

to their dis­may

Were then dis­charged and sent away

But with the few he won the day

With those three hun­dred.

The brave three hun­dred

The Lord’s three hun­dred;

O help us

Lord

to num­bered be

With Thy three hun­dred.

Today we see church build­ings stand

In ev­ery ci­ty of our land

But in each fight God has a band

His own three hun­dred;

Thro’ rain or shine

thro’ dark or light

These sold­iers stand up for the right

And al­ways win

tho’ fierce the fight

God’s own three hun­dred.

Oh

help us

Lord

to watch and pray

That we at last may hear Thee say

Well done

ye no­bly won the day

My own three hun­dred;

Then

when there are no foes to fight

In that blest land where comes no night

O may we walk with Thee in white

Thy saved three hun­dred.