Thou spak­est, Lord, and in­to one
The floods to­ge­ther flowed;
Freed from its wa­tery veil, the land
Its ver­dant pas­tures showed.

O Fa­ther, who the earth has giv­en
Our place of toil to be,
Knit all with­in its one wide bound
In one true char­ity.

Strangers and pil­grims here be­low,
We seek a home above,
Where Thou wilt ga­ther in Thine own
Who live in ho­ly love.

Unloving words, with deeds of ill
And words of an­gry strife,
Shall ne­ver, Lord, Thy glo­ry see,
Nor win the heav’n­ly life.

The earth it­self from day to day
Their bur­den scarce sus­tains,
And yearns, in tra­vail, to be free
From dark cor­rupt­ion’s chains.

Yea, we too groan with­in our­selves,
And that adopt­ion wait
For which the Ho­ly Spir­it’s seal
Did us pre­des­tin­ate.

Eternal glo­ry be as­cribed
To God, the One in Three,
By whom is poured into our hearts
The grace of char­ity.