O Lord of Hosts, the earth is Thine,
The na­tions bow be­neath Thy sway;
Thy wis­dom, love and pow­er di­vine
All things in Heav’n and earth ob­ey.

The fa­mine, pes­ti­lence and sword,
All these Thy right­eous judg­ments are;
Yet mark not our de­serv­ings, Lord,
But lift from us the scourge of war.

The mon­arch’s haugh­ti­ness bow down,
The lof­ti­ness of man make low;
Let all the world Thy great­ness own;
And peace re­turn to dwell be­low.

O’er pas­sions fierce and hat­red sore
Shed down Thy heal­ing love again:
Bid an­gel choirs sing out once more
Peace on the earth, good will to men.

O Fa­ther, teach us bro­ther’s love;
O Sav­ior, make us one in Thee;
O Spir­it, pour forth from above
Thy mer­cy, peace and uni­ty.