Lord, hast thou cast the nation off?

Must we for ever mourn?

Wilt thou indulge immortal wrath?

Shall mercy ne'er return?

The terror of one frown of thine

Melts all our strength away;

Like men that totter drunk with wine,

We tremble in dismay.

Great Britain shakes beneath thy stroke

And dreads thy threat'ning hand;

O heal the island thou hast broke,

Confirm the wav'ring land.

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.

Go with our armies to the fight,

Like a confed'rate God;

In vain confed'rate powers unite

Against thy lifted rod.

Our troops shall gain a wide renown

By thine assisting hand

'Tis God that treads the mighty down,

And makes the feeble stand.