1 Now let our songs address the God of peace,
Who bids the tumult of the battle cease;
The pointed spears to pruning hooks he bends,
And the broad falchion in the plough-share ends.
His pow'rful word unites contending nations
In kind embrace and friendly salutations.

2 While we beneath our vines and fig-trees sit,
Or thus within thy sacred temple meet,
Accept, great God! the tribute of our song,
And all the mercies of this day prolong.
Then spread thy peaceful word thro' ev'ry nation,
That all the earth may hail thy great salvation.