Why doth the Lord stand off so far?
And why con­ceal His face,
When great ca­la­mi­ties ap­pear,
And times of deep dis­tress?

Lord, shall the wick­ed still de­ride
Thy jus­tice and Thy pow­er?
Shall they ad­vance their heads in pride,
And still Thy saints de­vour?

They put Thy judg­ments from their sight,
And then in­sult the poor;
They boast in their ex­alt­ed height,
That they shall fall no more.

Arise, O God, lift up Thine hand,
Attend our hum­ble cry;
No ene­my shall dare to stand
When God as­cends on high.

Why do the men of mal­ice rage,
And say, with fool­ish pride,
The God of Heav’n will ne’er en­gage
To fight on Zi­on’s side?

But Thou for­ev­er art our Lord;
And pow­er­ful is Thine hand,
As when the hea­thens felt Thy sword,
And per­ished from Thy land.

Thou wilt pre­pare our hearts to pray,
And cause Thine ear to hear;
He heark­ens what His child­ren say,
And puts the world in fear.

Proud ty­rants shall no more op­press,
No more des­pise the just;
And migh­ty sin­ners shall con­fess
They are but earth and dust.