1 God, to correct the world,
In wrath is slow to rise;
But comes at length, in thunder cloth'd,
And darkness veils the skies.
2 His banners, lifted high,
The nations' God declare,
And, stain'd with blood, with terrors mark'd,
Spread wonder and despair.
3 All earthly pomp and pride
Are in his presence lost;
Empires o'erturned, thrones, sceptres, crowns,
In wild confusion tost.
4 While war and wo prevail,
And desolation wide;
In God, the sov'reign Lord of all,
The righteous still confide.
5 Mysterious is the course
Of his tremendous way:
His path is in the trackless winds,
And in the foaming sea.
6 Yet, though now wrapt in clouds,
And from our view conceal'd
The righteous Judge will soon appear,
In majesty reveal'd!
7 He'll curb the lawless pow'r,
The deadly wrath of man;
And all the windings will unfold
Of his own gracious plan.
8 The sons of tyranny,
In ruin shall be hurl'd;
And light, and liberty, and bliss,
Embrace the new-born world.
Source: Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #687