For the Conversion of the French

Supreme, immortal Potentate,
Whose will omnipotent is fate,
Who on Thy lofty throne
Dost with unrivall'd glory sit.
Till earth, and heaven, and hell submit,
And bow to Thee alone:

Hear us, in this our evil day.
Against the treacherous nation pray,
Which by pernicious wiles
Conspires our country to o'erthrow,
And with the wisdom from below
The Christian world embroils.

A nation whom no oaths can bind.
The false corrupters of mankind,
The slaves of every lust.
Despiteful, insolent, and proud,
Haters of the Redeeming God,
And murderers of the just.

Fraught with the policy of Rome,
By the old felon led, they come
To scatter, steal, and slay;
Brethren and countrymen divide,
While with gigantic steps they stride
To universal sway.

Arise, O Lord of hosts, arise.
Open the drowsy nation's eyes.
To see the threaten'd blow;
E irope's unconscious states alarm,
In strict confederacy to arm
Against the common foe.

O let Thy jealousy awake.
Into Thy hand the matter take,
That all Thy hand may see;
Vhich casts the proud and mighty down,
Which doth the weak and humble crown
With more than victory.

Compel triumphant Gallia's pride
To own that God is on our side,
Who nothing fear but God:
Nor can their plots or arms succeed,
While in our Saviour's steps we tread,
And glory in His blood.

The wTctches, Lord, who Thee blaspheme,
O let Thy blood be heard for them.
Into the furnace cast;
So shall the infidels return,
Look upon Thee they pierced, and mourn.
And 'scape the fire at last.