1 When God did Britain's Sons recall
From long Captivity,
It seem'd at first a pleasing Dream
Of what we wish'd to see.

2 But soon, in unaccustom'd Mirth,
We did our Voice employ;
And sung our great Redeemer's Praise,
In thankful Hymns of Joy.

3 Our num'rous Foes repining stood,
Yet were compell'd to own,
That great and wond'rous was the Work
Which God for us had done.

4 "'Twas great," said They—"'Twas wond'rous great,"
Much more should We confess:
Our God has done great Things—of which
We reap the glad Success.

5 May We (whose Work commenc'd in Tears)
Still see our Labours thrive,
And finish'd with Success;—to make
Our drooping Hearts revive!