1 Dreadful sin chastising God,
If the decree is past,
If the long impending rod
Must scourge our land at last,
When Thou dost in wrath reprove
The sinners who Thy judgments dare,
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.

2 If on such a land as this
Thou must avengèd be,
Yet preserve in perfect peace
The souls that trust on Thee;
Hide their precious lives above,
And make them Thy peculiar care;
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.

3 Mark the men, who deeply sigh
Our loathsome crimes to view,
Hear their deprecating cry,
And save the mournful few;
Far from them the plague remove,
The famine, and the waste of war;
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.

4 To Thy little flock of sheep,
O that Thy grace might join
Us, ev’n us who fain would weep
Beneath the wrath divine:
Help us, O Thou Holy Dove,
To breathe the much availing prayer,
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.

5 Surely now in part we feel
The answer to our cry;
Thou Thine anger dost reveal,
And bring the judgment nigh;
Now the coming woes we prove,
And groan the common ills to bear;
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.

6 Grant us still to pray and grieve
Till all the wrath is past;
This the sign Thou wilt forgive
And heal our land at last:
Heavily till then we move,
And sigh our sympathizing care,
Spare the remnant, Lord, in love
Thy praying people spare.