1 What eyes like thine, eternal Sire,
Through sin's obscurest depths inquire?
What judge, like thee, on virtue's foes
The needful vengeance can impose?

2 The meek observer of thy laws
To thee commits his injur'd cause:
In thee, each anxious fear resign'd,
The fatherless a father find.

3 Thine is the throne; beneath thy reign,
Immortal King, the tribes profane
Behold their dreams of conquest o'er,
And vanish to be seen no more.

4 'Tis thine the orphan's cheek to dry,
The guiltless suff'rer's cause to try,
To rein each earth-born tyrant's will,
And bid the sons of pride be still.