In Grief and Fear, to Thee, O Lord

In grief and fear

to Thee

O Lord

We now for suc­cor fly

Thine aw­ful judg­ments are abroad

O shield us

lest we die!

The fell dis­ease on ev­ery side

Walks forth with taint­ed breath;

And pes­ti­lence

with ra­pid stride

Bestrews the land with death.

O look with pi­ty on the scene

Of sad­ness and of dread

And let Thine an­gel stand be­tween

The liv­ing and the dead!

With con­trite hearts to Thee

our king

We turn

who oft have strayed;

Accept the sac­ri­fice we bring

And let the plague be stayed.