XCIII. John Norden

O GOD, that guidst thy faithfull flock,

And leadst it by thine hand;

That gaust it water of the rock

In dry Arabia land:

Giue grace to vs to flye the men

That teach thy word awry,

Of whom thy Son forewarnd vs, when

He did their slights espye.

He did foresee hypocrisie

Should lurke in godly weede,

And wolues in sheepe-lyke tire to lye,

And on thy sheepe to feede.

The subtile serpent shrowdes his wiles,

Attirde like angell bright;

And false apostles, fraught with guiles,

Do counterfeite the light.

The man of sinne, that sits on hye

With triple crowne on pate,

And lifts his lewdnes to the skie,

Holds sauing Christ in hate.

He sends his subtile sots by swarmes

Through all the world, to win

Thy children pure by wicked charmes,

To draw their soules to sinne.

Keepe vs thy children, Lord, therefore;

Direct vs by thy grace,

That their inchantments may no more

Our zeale sincere deface:

And let thy truth be still our guide,

That we thereby may knowe

Their falshood, who doo start aside,

And flye the subtile foe.