I am, undaunted, Of Orange, ever free, To the king of Spain I've granted A lifelong loyalty. I've ever tried to live in The fear of God's command And therefore I've been driven, From people, home, and land, But God, I trust, will rate me His willing instrument And one day reinstate me Into my government. Let no despair betray you, My subjects true and good. The Lord will surely stay you Though now you are pursued. He who would live devoutly Must pray God day and night To throw His power about me As champion of your right. Life and my all for others I sacrificed, for you! And my illustrious brothers Proved their devotion too. Count Adolf, more's the pity, Fell in the Frisian fray, And in the eternal city Awaits the judgement day. I, nobly born, descended From an imperial stock. An empire's prince, defended (Braving the battle's shock Heroically and fearless As pious Christian ought) With my life's blood the peerless Gospel of God our Lord. A shield and my reliance, O God, Thou ever wert. I'll trust unto Thy guidance. O leave me not ungirt. That I may stay a pious Servant of Thine for aye And drive the plagues that try us And tyranny away. My God, I pray thee, save me From all who do pursue And threaten to enslave me, Thy trusted servant true. O Father, do not sanction Their wicked, foul design, Don't let them wash their hands in This guiltless blood of mine. O David, thou soughtest shelter From King Saul's tyranny. Even so I fled this welter And many a lord with me. But God the Lord did save me From exile and its hell And, in His mercy, gave him A realm in Israel. Fear not 't will rain sans ceasing The clouds are bound to part. I bide that sight so pleasing Unto my princely heart, Which is that I with honor Encounter death in war, And meet in heaven my Donor, His faithful warrior. Nothing so moves my pity As seeing through these lands, Field, village, town and city Pillaged by roving hands. O that the Spaniards rape thee, My Netherlands so sweet, The thought of that does grip me Causing my heart to bleed. A stride on steed of mettle I've waited with my host The tyrant's call to battle, Who durst not do his