Hymns Written in the Time of the Tumults, 8

Thou God who hear'st the prayer
Presented through Thy Son,
The man that bears Thy character.
And fills the British throne,
Into Thine arms receive,
And fashion'd to Thy mind
Our nation's joy, long may he Hve
A blessing to mankind.

Thou dost the malice know,
And causeless enmity.
Which all the sons of Belial show
To one set up by Thee:
Thou seest what they intend,
Who traitorously presume
To style our blacken'd king the friend
Of anti-Christian Rome.

Confound their devilish art.
Who leagued together rise.
The poor unwary crowd pervert,
And poison with their lies:
Redeem them from the foe,
The dire Ahithophel,
And all the' associate host o'erthrow,
And chase them back to hell.

But turn their hearts again.
Back to their king and Thee,
Who, ignorant of Satan's plan,
Swerved from their loyalty:
Let them Thy subjects live,
Submit to CcBsar's power,
And never place to Satan give.
And trust his slaves no more.