For the British Nation

Ah! whither should we fly
In peril and distress.

While all the dogs of war are nigh.
The enemies of peace!
Almighty God of love.
On Thee our souls we cast:

Hide Thou our hunted lives above,
And save the land at last.
A leopard watches o'er
Our cities night and day,
Prepared with unrelenting power
To spring upon the prey:
The alien armies wait,
Lured by the scent of blood,
As awful ministers of fate.
As thunderbolts of God.
Yet if our sin demands
Its just reward of pain,
O let us fall into the hands
Of God, and not of man:
His tender mercies wound,
Remorseless as the grave;
But pity in Thy wrath is found.
Which only strikes to save.
In measure then reprove,
In love Thine own chastise,
But baffle, and far off remove.
Our threatening enemies;
Blast their devices. Lord,
Nor let their counsel stand,
Knap Thou the spear, and wrest the sword
Out of the ruffians' hand.
Thyself the men refrain
Who our destruction seek,
So shall they fiercely strive in vain
The secret bar to break:
Their bound they cannot pass.

If God assign their bound.
And Jesus, as a wall of brass.
Our favour'd isle surround.
But our defence is sure,
Whate'er event betide,
Beneath the' almighty shade secure
Thy faithful ones abide:
Till all the tyranny
Of earth and hell is o'er,
Jesus, Thy mighty name shall be
Our adamantine tower.

Though famine, plague, and sword
Hung o'er our sinful land,
The means of swift prevention, Lord,
Are in Thine only hand:
Or if the curse descend,
By sovereign Love subdued,
The curse shall bless, the ill shall end
In everlasting good.