1 Lord, hast thou cast the nation off? Must we for ever mourn? Wilt thou indulge immortal wrath? Shall mercy ne'er return?
2 The terror of one frown of thine Melts all our strength away; Like men that totter drunk with wine, We tremble in dismay.
3 Great Britain shakes beneath thy stroke, And dreads thy threatening hand; O heal the island thou hast broke, Confirm the wavering land.
4 Lift up a banner in the field, For those that fear thy Name; Save thy beloved with thy shield, And put our foes to shame.
5 Go with our armies to the fight, Like a confederate God; In vain confederate powers unite Against thy lifted rod.
6 Our troops shall gain a wide renown By thine assisting hand; 'Tis God that treads the mighty down, And makes the feeble stand.