How much we owe to those brave Hebrew captives
Who dared keep faith in mighty Babylon,
Refused the royal fare of self-indulgence,
To serve, without defilement, God alone!
They would not bow before the golden image,
Their faith had risen to a purer joy,
Undaunted by the seven times heated furnace,
That proudest boast of evil to destroy.
They fell down bound into that flaming madness,
But found their bonds dissolved like empty air;
Nor e'en the smell of smoke had passed upon them,
Because the Son of God walked with them there.
We know 'tis true, their story of achievement,
Since, when our path of steadfast duty trod
Led to affliction's seven times testing fire,
We, too, have found him there—the Son of God.
