When weariness doth cloak the spirit round,
And burdens, silent, press upon the breast,
When unseen sorrows chain the feet to ground,
And prayers seem lost in heaven’s vast unrest—
Look not to fleeting hopes that rise and fall,
Nor trust the heart when faith itself grows dim;
For God Himself is shield to one and all
Who in His mercy hide and rest in Him.

Every word of God proves true and sure,
Not one hath failed through ages dark or bright;
His promises endure, forever pure,
A refuge steadfast in the blackest night.
He is the shield—no arrow finds its mark
When soul takes shelter ‘neath His mighty wing;
Though tempests rage and shadows gather stark,
His truth protects; His faithfulness doth cling.

Behold the cross, where greatest promise stood—
The Lamb once slain, the victory complete;
Redemption sealed in agony and blood,
Fulfilled in love no darkness could defeat.
If God so kept His vow through death’s own door,
Shall lesser griefs undo His covenant grace?
Nay—every trial meets the shield He bore,
And in Christ’s finished work we find our place.

O tired heart, when doubt would whisper low
That thou art forgotten in the fray,
Recall: the shield of God shall never go;
He stands between thee and the foe alway.
No burden breaks what grace hath made secure,
No path too dim for His unchanging ray;
The cross declares, the Word itself is sure—
God is our shield; take refuge while ye may.

So rest, belovèd, in this armor bright,
Though seasons weary and the night seems long;
His every promise glows with living light,
And turns thy mourning into endless song.
For He who rose and reigns above the strife
Is shield eternal—thy defense, thy song, thy life.