O God, Thou Potentate of all,
Upon Thy fiat we would call,
And pray that as the die is cast,
Thy grace may guide us to the last!
Grant us a race of stalwart men
To lead in public life again,
Prophetic, noble, grand in dower—
Such, Lord, exalt to thrones of power.

Put far from each the selfish aim,
The lure of spoils, the zest of fame;
With single heart and honest hand
May they bear rule throughout the land;
The shows of state, the sport of kings,
May they account but paltry things,
And dedicate their hearts and days
To Thy vast sovereignty and praise.

In all their councils and their laws,
Unmoved by scorn or vain applause,
May they seek daily to fulfill
The purpose of Thy perfect will;
And thus, as changing cycles run,
And eras pass from sun to sun,
May right­eous­ness gird all our frame,
And generations bless Thy name!