Father! to thy suff'ring poor,
Strength and grace and faith impart;
In thy gracious love, restore
Comfort to the broken heart;
Thine enslav'd ones, Lord! confirm,
With a holier strength of zeal;
Give thou not the feeble worm,
Helpless, to the spoiler's heel!

Torn apart, and driven forth,
To our toiling hard and long,
Father! from the dust of earth
Lift we still our grateful song;
Grateful—that in bonds we share
In thy love which maketh free:
Joyful—that the wrongs we bear
Draw us nearer, Lord! to thee.

Worn and wasted, Oh! how long
Shall thy trodden poor complain?
How much longer—bear the wrong—
Bear the galling bonds of pain?
Melt oppression's heart of steel,
Make our haughty masters see,
Make our blinded rulers feel,
That in us they mock at thee.

In thy time, O Lord of hosts!
Stretch abroad that hand to save,
Which of old, on Egypt's coasts,
Smote in twain the Red Sea's wave:
Stretch out, Lord! thy mighty hand,
From the spoiler set us free;
Then throughout this ransom'd land,
We will gladly worship thee.