See, gra­cious God, be­fore Thy throne
Thy mourn­ing peo­ple bend!
’Tis on Thy so­ve­reign grace alone,
Our hum­ble hopes depend.

Tremendous judg­ments from Thy hand,
Thy dread­ful power dis­play:
Yet mer­cy spares this guil­ty land,
And yet we live to pray.

Great God, and why this na­tion spare,
Ungrateful as we are?
O be these aw­ful warn­ings heard,
While mer­cy cries, Fore­bear.

What nu­mer­ous crimes in­creas­ing rise,
Where Sa­tan shows his smile?
What land so fa­vored of the skies,
And yet what land so vile?

How changed, alas! are truths di­vine,
For er­ror, guilt and shame!
What im­pi­ous num­bers, bold in sin,
Disgrace the Chris­tian name!

O bid us turn, al­migh­ty Lord,
By Thy re­sist­less grace;
Then shall our hearts ob­ey Thy word,
And hum­bly seek Thy face.

Then should in­sult­ing foes in­vade,
We shall not sink in fear;
Secure of ne­ver fail­ing aid,
If God, our God, is near.