The Foes of Zion Quake for Fright

The foes of Zi­on quake for fright

Where no fear was they quail;

For well they know that sword of might

Which cuts through coats of mail.

The Lord of old de­filed their shields

And laughed their spears to scorn

Their bones lay scat­tered o’er the field

By dogs and vul­tures torn.

Let Zi­on’s foes be filled with shame;

Her sons are blessed of God;

Though scoff­ers now des­pise their name

The Lord shall break their rod.

Oh

would our God to Zi­on turn

God with sal­va­tion clad;

Then Ju­dah’s harps should mu­sic learn

And Is­ra­el be glad.