When his fellow-prisoner, the Duke Ernst of Brunswick-Luneberg, began to despair, John Frederick comforted him: "Do not distress yourself. Since we have been worsted in the struggle, let us arm ourselves with patience, and we shall overcome in the end. Let us show by our actions, that we despise misfortune, and thus shall we wrest the victory from our enemy's hand. This is the true manner of taking our revenge." A second year of misery was added to the first; the hope of deliverance grew ever fainter; but John Frederick continued true to himself,--a hero in the warfare of faith. Like David of old, the God-fearing monarch, in the midst of his affliction, sounded his harp and a psalm rang forth from his prison,--a psalm, whose notes to this day appeal to each human heart, bringing strength, and peace, and consolation: "As God hath willed, so too will I,[1] And naught my trust shall alter, In trial and perplexity. O, may I never falter. All things that be, God certainly For purpose wise is sending; What He hath willed Must be fulfilled, To reach a blessed ending. "As God hath willed it must abide, Self-will would but mislead me: Forbidden joys I'll cast aside, And graciously He'll heed me. Howe'er it seem, I'll rest in Him; His grace is with me surely; Howe'er it seem, I'll rest in Him, Whose purpose stands securely. "As God hath willed, I shall obey, In all to Him submitting, Who can His mighty Will gainsay? He doth what is befitting. Wisdom, nor wit, Can alter it. Nor sorest grief, nor passion; My murmuring No change could bring, His hand my way doth fashion. "As God hath willed, so I will choose, His promises believing, Obedience never more refuse, But ever to Him cleaving, Cast off my fears: All days and years Are by His law designed. In this secure: His Word is sure, I'm to His laws resigned. "As God hath willed, unchanged shall stay, As well the birds might sorrow! If hope forsake the home to-day, 'Tis to return to-morrow. The gifts of God Are well bestowed; And, if He seem unheeding, Still let me say, Most thankfully, Unto my good 'tis leading." Even as, long years ago, Luther's theses, as if borne on angel's wings, had flown through the length and breadth of Germany, thus it was with this song of the captive prince. In a wondrous manner, its strains over-leaped the prison-walls, ringing forth into the world, for thousands to hear. People sang it in the churches; troubled and stricken souls, praying for guidance, found in it the help they sought; and to the conscience of many an one who had fallen from the faith, it came as a messenger of justice from God.