O happy nation, where the Lord

Reveals the treasure of his word,

And builds his church, his earthly throne!

His eye the heathen world surveys,

He formed their hearts, he knows their ways;

But God their Maker is unknown.

Let kings rely upon their host,

And of his strength the champion boast;

In vain they boast, in vain rely;

In vain we trust the brutal force,

Or speed, or courage, of a horse,

To guard his rider or to fly.

The eye of thy compassion, Lord,

Doth more secure defence afford

When death or dangers threat'ning stand:

Thy watchful eye preserves the just,

Who make thy name their fear and trust,

When wars or famine waste the land.

In sickness, or the bloody field,

Thou our physician, thou our shield,

Send us salvation from thy throne:

We wait to see thy goodness shine;

Let us rejoice in help divine,

For all our hope is God alone.