1 Come and behold the works of God,
What desolations He will make;
In vengeance, when He wields His rod,
The heathen rage, their kingdoms quake
He utters forth His voice—’tis felt:
Like wax the world’s foundations melt;
The Lord of hosts is in the field,
The God of Jacob is our shield.

2 Again He maketh wars to cease,
He breaks the bow, unpoints the spear,
And burns the chariot—joy and peace
In all His glorious march appear:
Silence, O earth! thy Maker own;
Ye Gentiles, He is God alone;
The Lord of hosts is in the field,
The God of Jacob is our shield.