They will accuse and they will mock.

This they’ll do it without thought.

His church the object of their hate.

But for their judgment we will wait.

It’s not our job to right the wrong.

Yes, we who once were of that throng.

Tis more our job to hold up high,

That blessed hope his blood did buy.

Let he who scatters do his job.

Let he who gathers restrain the mob.

We are but to do him well.

And to this world the gospel tell.