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 threatning Hand;
O heal the Island thou hast broke,
Confirm the wav'ring 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 Confed'rate GOD;
In vain confed'rate Pow'rs 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.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, hast thou cast the Nation off? |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1740 |
Scripture: | ; |
Topic: | Day of Humiliation for Dissapointments in War; Psalm: for soldiers |
Notes: | Public Domain. |