Tune: HYFRYDOL

Words: The Psalter, 1912, alt.

Music: Rowland H. Pritchard, 1830

View Lyrics
In Your heritage the heathen
now, O God, triumphant stand;
they defile Your holy temple,
they destroy Your chosen land.
Ruthless, they have slain Your servants,
they have made Your saints to mourn;
in the sight of all around us
we endure reproach and scorn.

O how long against Your people
shall Your anger burn, O Lord?
On Your enemies, the heathen,
let Your wrath be freely poured.
Crush the kingdoms that defy You,
calling not upon Your name;
they have long consumed Your people
and have scorched Your land with flame.

O remember not against us
wicked works our fathers wrought;
stretch Your hand to us in mercy—
near to ruin we are brought.
Help us, God of our salvation,
for the glory of Your name;
for Your glory come and save us;
take away our sin and shame.

Let the scoffers' mouths be silent!
Come, avenge Your servants slain!
Loose the prisoner, save the dying,
all Your enemies restrain.
Then Your flock, Your chosen people,
to Your name their thanks shall raise,
and to every generation
we will sing Your glorious praise.
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