Raise not Thy hand in judg­ment, Lord,
[originally, Enter not into jud­gment, Lord]
With us, a guil­ty race;
Thy need­ful suc­cor now af­ford,
And help us in dis­tress.

Let not the wa­ter­spouts des­cend,
Nor burst upon our plains;
But in Thy mer­cy con­des­cend
To stay the sweep­ing rains.

Command the cloud­ed sun to shine,
And shed a con­stant ray;
Directed by a hand di­vine,
Our night shall turn to day.

Oh let its fruc­ti­fy­ing beam,
The pre­cious grain ma­ture;
And we Thy good­ness will pro­claim,
Whose pro­mise shall en­dure.

Wonder and love shall tune our tongues,
For all Thy kind­ness shown,
While thank­ful we in joy­ful songs,
Thy gra­cious hand will own.