1 Thy foes succeeding times shall own,
Long as the sun and waxing moon,
With varied light, in swift career,
Alternate guide the circling year.

2 The Son from Heaven His grace shall pour,
Delightful as the copious shower,
Whose drops refresh the new-shorn plain,
And swell with life the foodful grain.

3 His care the just aloft shall raise,
Nor fair prosperity His days
Desist to crown, till round the pole,
The measured months shall cease to roll.

4 From sea to sea His wide command
Shall reach, and from Euphrates’ strand
Through realms of various tongue extend,
Far as to earth’s remotest end.

5 To Him the desert tribes shall kneel;
His foes, that on their conquering steel
Reposed ere while their frantic trust,
Shall prostrate fall, and lick the dust.