Great God, whose uni­ver­sal sway
The known and un­known worlds ob­ey,
Now give the king­dom to Thy Son,
Extend His pow­er, ex­alt His throne.

Thy scept­er well be­comes His hands,
All Heav’n sub­mits to His com­mands;
His jus­tice shall av­enge the poor,
And pride and rage pre­vail no more.

With pow­er He vin­di­cates the just,
And treads th’op­press­or in the dust;
His wor­ship and His fear shall last,
Till hours and years and time be past.

As rain on mea­dows new­ly mown,
So shall He send His in­flu­ence down:
His grace on faint­ing souls dis­tils,
Like heav’n­ly dew on thirs­ty hills.

The hea­then lands that lie be­neath
The shades of ov­er­spread­ing death
Revive at His first dawn­ing light,
And de­serts blos­som at the sight.

The saints shall flour­ish in His days,
Dressed in the robes of joy and praise;
Peace, like a ri­ver from His throne,
Shall flow to na­tions yet un­known.