Awake, awake, Deborah; Awake, awake, utter a song: Arise, Barak, and lead away your captives, you son of Abinoam.
Bethink thee yet again how little are thy trials after all. Thou hast not yet resisted unto blood striving against sin. Thou art poor, it is true, but then thou art not sick; or thou art sick, but still thou art not left to wallow in sin; and all afflictions are but little when once sin is put away. Compare thy trials with those of many who live in thine own neighbourhood. Put thy sufferings side by side with the sufferings of some whom thou hast seen on their dying bed; compare thy lot with that of the martyrs who have entered into their rest; and oh I say, thou wilt be compelled to exclaim with Paul, “These light afflictions which are but for a moment are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us.” Come, now, I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, be of good cheer, and rejoice in the Lord your God, if it were for no other reason than that of the brave hearted Luther. When he had been most slandered when the Pope had launched out a new bull, and when the kings of the earth had threatened him fiercely Luther would gather together his friends, and say, “Come let us sing a psalm and spite the devil.” He would ever sing the most psalms when the world roared the most. Let us today join in that favourite psalm of the great German, 