Father eter­nal, Rul­er of cre­ation,
Spirit of life, which moved ere form was made;
Through the thick dark­ness co­ver­ing ev­ery na­tion,
Light to man’s blind­ness, O be Thou our aid:
Thy king­dom come, O Lord, Thy will be done.

Races and peo­ples, lo! we stand di­vid­ed,
And shar­ing not our griefs, no joy can share;
By wars and tu­mults love is mocked, de­rid­ed,
His con­quer­ing cross no king­dom wills to bear:
Thy king­dom come, O Lord, Thy will be done.

Envious of heart, blind eyed,
With tongues con­found­ed,
Nation by na­tion still goes un­for­giv­en;
In wrath and fear, by jea­lou­sies sur­round­ed,
Building proud tow­ers
Which shall not reach to hea­ven:
Thy king­dom come, O Lord, Thy will be done.

Lust of pos­sess­ion work­eth de­so­la­tions;
There is no meek­ness in the sons of earth;
Led by no star, the rul­ers of the na­tions
Still fail to bring us to the bliss­ful birth.
Thy king­dom come, O Lord, Thy will be done.

How shall we love Thee, holy, hid­den Be­ing,
If we love not the world which Thou hast made?
O give us bro­ther love for bet­ter seeing
Thy Word made flesh, and in a man­ger laid:
Thy king­dom come, O Lord, Thy will be done.