Verse 1
Horrible lust of fame and power
How long shall it o’er kings prevail!
Who bid the sword their kind devour,
Lay waste the earth, and people hell,
And madly for themselves prepare
The highest thrones of torment there!

Verse 2
Father, from every bosom chase
The demon of ambitious pride;
In pity to our slaughter’d race,
For whom thy only Son hath died,
The Saviour-Prince, the peace of man,
Send him, in all our hearts to reign.

Verse 3
The kingdom of his grace alone
Can make our wars and fightings cease,
Unite our jarring wills in one
Perpetual bond of perfectness,
As rivals of that host above,
Where all is harmony and love.