O hap­py na­tion, where the Lord
Reveals the trea­sure of His Word,
And builds His Church, His earth­ly throne!
His eye the hea­then world sur­veys,
He formed their hearts, He knows their ways;
But God their mak­er is un­known.

Let kings re­ly up­on their host,
And of his strength the cham­pi­on boast;
In vain they boast, in vain re­ly;
In vain we trust the bru­tal force,
Or speed, or cour­age, of a horse,
To guard his rid­er or to fly.

The eye of Thy com­pas­sion, Lord,
Doth more se­cure de­fense af­ford
When death or dan­gers threat­en­ing stand;
Thy watch­ful eye pre­serves the just,
Who make Thy name their fear and trust,
When wars or fam­ine waste the land.

In sick­ness, or the bloo­dy field,
Thou our physician, Thou our shield,
Send us sal­va­tion from Thy throne:
We wait to see Thy good­ness shine;
Let us re­joice in help di­vine,
For all our hope is God alone.