O God, to whom re­venge be­longs,
Proclaim Thy wrath aloud;
Let so­ver­eign power re­dress our wrongs,
Let jus­tice smite the proud.

They say, The Lord nor sees nor hears:
When will the fools be wise?
Can He be deaf who formed their ears?
Or blind, who made their eyes?

He knows their im­pi­ous thoughts are vain,
And they shall feel His pow­er;
His wrath shall pierce their souls with pain
In some sur­pris­ing hour.

But if Thy saints de­serve re­buke,
Thou hast a gent­ler rod;
Thy pro­vi­denc­es and Thy book
Shall make them know their God.

Blest is the man Thy hands chas­tise,
And to his du­ty draw;
Thy scourg­es make Thy child­ren wise
When they for­get Thy law.

But God will ne’er cast off His saints,
Nor His own pro­mise break;
He par­dons His in­her­it­ance
For their Re­deem­er’s sake.