Verse 1
Before Jehovah’s awful throne
Prostrate, and humbled in the dust,
Th’ immortal Potentate, we own,
The universal Judge is just!
He hath on earth destruction brought,
Hath from their seats the mighty driven,
And, setting up the things of nought,
The Kingdom to the Basest given.

Verse 2
A thousand different causes join’d
T’ accomplish, Lord, thy strange Decree,
T’ effect what all our foes design’d
In vain, unless ordain’d by Thee,
Unless our sinful measure fill’d
Had mark’d our race of Heaven abhor’d,
Apollyon’s dread Commission seal’d,
And left us to the slaughtering sword.

Verse 3
Our brethren, countrymen, and friends
WE forc’d to feel the Tyrant’s rod,
Expos’d them to relentless fiends
Tho’ drunk, yet thirsting for their blood:
Haters of kings, and kingly sway,
And every Sect except their own,
They triumph in their prosperous day
As fixt on a perpetual throne.

Verse 4
Swoln with the insolence of power,
Like furious beasts they madly rage
Like lions greedy to devour
They roar, and spare nor sex nor age;
The dogs of hell, let loose on all,
The pests and scourges of mankind,
Push’d on by proud, insidious Gaul
To leave nor root nor branch behind.

Verse 5
Yet ev’n where Satan keeps his seat,
Thou hast reserv’d a chosen Few,
Who wash with tears their Saviour’s feet,
And day and night for mercy sue;
Cast out, cut off from human hope
Who on th’ Almighty arm depend,
Thro’ the infernal cloud look up
Resign’d, and meekly wait the end.

Verse 6
We add our vehement suit to theirs,
With souls beneath the altar cry,
The answer of our faithful prayers
Expecting from the Lord most high,
Holy, and true, O Lord, how long
Dost Thou as unconcern’d remain,
Slow to regard our Monarch’s wrong,
T’ avenge our guiltless brethren slain?

Verse 7
Cruelly mock’d, and scourg’d, and bound,
In dungeons, and in mines conceal’d,
No mercy upon earth they found
Whom tortures coud not force to yield:
True to their King, and Country’s laws,
They fear’d an oath, they fear’d a God,
And adverse to Rebellion’s Cause,
They strove, resisting unto blood.

Verse 8
Jesus, avenge us of the Foe,
But Satan’s instruments forgive,
Their throne iniquitous o’rethrow,
But let the weak Usurpers live,
Live to repent of hellish crimes,
Good out of their own ill to bring,
And warn and teach succeeding times
To dread their God, and prize their King.