Classic Poem

While, Lord! from thee our rulers take their pow'r,
Give them thy greatness humbly to adore;
With hearts sincere to hold a righteous sway,
Bid justice triumph, and the proud obey;
Defend th' oppress'd, strike off the bondman's chain,
Avenge bold wrongs, nor yield the sword in vain.

While desolations o'er all lands are hurl'd,
May they uphold the pillars of the world—
The meek, the wise, the faithful, and the just,—
But tread the vile oppressor in the dust;
To fear thy name, to speed thy kingdom, Lord!
Be this their aim, and glorious their reward.

Give them the public weal alone to prize,
And each base purpose nobly to despise;

Teach them, that greatness, pow'r, and place are thine,—
Gifts from thy hand, bestow'd for ends divine;
Rulers—thy stewards—to mankind are giv'n,
To bless the good, and build the cause of Heav'n.

Thou art the Judge; thy sceptre rules the skies,
At thy command the just to glory rise;
Thy fearful vengeance guilty wretches share,
Drink the last dregs, and plunge in deep despair;
To thy great name our raptur'd songs we'll raise,
And give the KING OF KINGS immortal praise.