1 On Britain, long a favor'd Isle,
Now o'erwhelmed with sin and shame,
Deign, mighty God, once more to smile;
The same thy power, thy grace the same.
2 Let peace descend with balmy wing,
And all its blessings round her shed;
Her liberties be well secur'd,
And commerce raise its fainting head:
3 Let the loud cannon cease to roar,
The warlike trump no longer sound;
The din of arms be heard no more,
Nor human blood pollute the ground.
4 Let hostile troops from their hands,
The useless sword, the glittering spear;
And join in friendship's sacred bands,
Nor one dissentient voice be there.
5 Thus save, O Lord, a sinking land,
Millions of tongues shall then adore,
Resound the honors of thy name,
From spread thy praise from shore to shore.
Source: A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #DXXX
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