O God of Hosts, Thine ear incline, Regard our prayers, our cause be Thine: When orphans cry, when babes complain, When widows weep, canst Thou refrain? Now red and terrible, Thine hand Scourges with war our guilty land; Europe Thy flaming vengeance feels, And from her deep foundations reels. Her rivers bleed like mighty veins, Her towers are ashes, graves her plains; Slaughter her groaning valleys fills, And reeking carnage melts her hills. O Thou, whose awful word can bind The roaring waves, the raging wind, Mad tyrants tame, break down the high Whose haughty foreheads beat the sky, Make bare Thine arm, great King of Kings! That arm alone salvation brings: That wonder-working arm which broke From Israel's neck the Egyptian yoke. Burst every dungeon, every chain! Give injured slaves their rights again! Let truth prevail, let discord cease, Speak -- and the world shall smile in peace! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AFRICAN CHIEF by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS [OR VILLERS] (1) by THOMAS CAREW IN ANSWER TO MR. POPE by ANNE FINCH TOM'S GARLAND: UPON THE UNEMPLOYED by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SONNET: THE HUMAN SEASONS by JOHN KEATS UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS AN ESSAY ON MAN by ALEXANDER POPE |