Lord, while afar our bro­thers fight,
Thy Church unit­ed lifts her pray­er;
Be Thou their Shield by day and night;
Guide, guard, and help them ev­ery­where:
O God of bat­tles, hear our cry,
And in their dan­ger be Thou nigh.

For those who, wound­ed in the fray,
Are lin­ger­ing still on beds of pain,
Who to their loved ones far away
May ne­ver­more re­turn again,
O God of pi­ty, hear our cry,
And in their ang­uish be Thou nigh.

For wives and mo­thers sore dis­tressed,
For all who wait in si­lent fear,
For homes be­reaved which gave their best,
For hearts now de­so­late and drear,
O God of com­fort, hear our cry,
And in the dark­est hour draw nigh.

Spare us, good Lord! If just the strife,
Yet still from guilt we are not free;
Forgive our blind and care­less life,
Our oft for­get­ful­ness of Thee.
O God of mer­cy, hear our cry,
And to our con­trite souls draw nigh.

We bow be­neath the chast­en­ing rod,
To us the sin and shame be­long,
But Thou art righ­teous, Thou art God,
And right shall tri­umph ov­er wrong.
In Thee we trust, to Thee we cry;
Lord, now and ev­er be Thou nigh.